,

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY Gift of
F. Kingsbury Curtis

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% flisit to (Europe

IN 1851.

Mer de Glace.

VOL. l.

NEW-YORK:
P. PUTNAM & COMPANY
1853.

VISIT TO EUROPE

IN 1851.

BY
PROF. BENJAMIN SILLIMAN,
OF YALE COLLEGE.

IN TWO VOLUMES, "WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.

VOLUME I.

NEW-YORK:
GEORGE P. PUTNAM & CO., 10 PARK PLACE.
M.DCCO.LIII.

Ehtbred according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S53, "by
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Connecticut.
r ¦
v I

JOHN F. TROW,
Printer & Stereotypes,
49 Ann -street.

CONTENTS VOL. I.

INTRODUCTION, 1.
VOYAGE TO LIVERPOOL, 6— Structure and Economy of the
Steamer Baltic, 9—14 — Head of Old Kinsale, 15.
ARRIVAL IN LIVERPOOL, 16— Liverpool, 17— Mr. John Taylor,
17 — Other Friends, 19 — Liverpool in 1851, 21 — Public
Buildings and St. James's Cemetery, 22 — Railroad Stations,
Streets, and Docks, 23 — Commerce, 24 — Royal Institute and
Remarkable Fossils therein, 25-28 — Miscellaneous, 28 —
Slave Trade, 29— Poverty and Wealth, 31.
LIVERPOOL TO CHESTER, 32— Antiquities at Chester and Peculiar
Structure of the Town, 34 — Ancient Cathedral, 35 — Excur
sion to Eaton Hall, 37 — House, Grounds, and Gardens,
88-39— Roman Altar, 40.
EXCURSION IN WALES,- 42— Conway Castle, Bangor Station, and
Menai Strait, 43 — Suspension and Tubular Bridges, 44-47 —
Caernarvon and its Castle, 48 — Birth-place of Edward, II.,
49 — Ride to Llanberris, 50 — Quarry of Slate, 52 — Geological
Character of the Welsh Slate, 53 — Royal Victoria Hotel,
64 — Dolbarden Castle, 55 — Departure from Llanberris, 55 —
Mountains and Gorge of Llanberris, 57 — River Dee, Welsh
Harper, Corwin, 58.
VALE OF LLANGOLLEN, 59— Place Newydd and the Ladies of
Llangollen, 60-62 — Castle Dinas Bran, 63 — Valle Crucis
Abbey, 64 — Pillar' of Eliseg, 65 — Llangollen to Chirk
Castle, 65 — Viaduct and Aqueduct Bridges, 66 — Chirk
Castle, 66-69 — Chirk Church, 70 — Passing into England, 70.
Chirk to Birmingham, 71 — Birmingham, 72.
Birmingham to Oxford, 73 — Gloucester Cathedral, 74 — Arrival at
Oxford, 74 — Excursion to London, 75.
Arrival in London, 75 — Dr. Mantell, 76 — Geological Society, Somer
set House, 77 — Remarks made at the Session of the
Society, 78-81.

iv Contents.
Return to Oxford, 82 — Excursion to Blenheim with Dr. Gray of
' Cambridge, 82 — Splendid Apartments and Pictures, 83, 84 —
Library, 84 — Presentation for Degrees at Oxford, 85 — Re
marks on the State of Learning at Oxford, 86-88 — Conver
sation at Henry Thornton's, in 1805, on same subject, 88 —
Dinner at Dr. Daubeny's, 90 — Dr. Buckland's Illness, 90 —
Dr. Kidd, 91 — Cabinets of Natural History, 91 — Ashmolean
Museum and Radeliffe Library, 92 — General Remarks on
Oxford University, 93 — Monument to Ridley, Latimer, and
Cranmer,
Return to London, 96 — Entrance to London from the West, 96 —
Trafalgar Square and its monuments, 97 — Impressions of
Old Scenes, 98 — The Crystal Palace, 99 — Soiree at Dr.
Mantell's, Temple Bar, 100 — Church of the Crusaders,
101 — Service in Westminster Abbey, 102 — British Mu
seum, 103 — Monuments of Ancient Nineveh, 105 — Townley
Marbles, 106 — Changes, Progress, 107 — Courtesy of Man
ners in public places, 108 — Change at British Museum, 108.
DEPARTURE FOR THE CONTINENT, 109— London to Folkstone
by night, 109 — Passage to France, 110.
BOULOGNE, 111— Reminiscences of 1805, 111— Boulogne to Paris,
112 — Railroad, Agriculture, Villages, 113 — Abbeville, Ami
ens, 114.
PARIS, 115 — Hotel des Princes, 115 — Boulevards des Italiens, 116
— Public Grounds and Walks, 116 — Place de la Concorde, 117
— Place Vendome, 118 — Hotel des Invalides, Champs de
Mars, 119 — Artesian Well of Grenelle, 121 — M. Cordier, 123.
Garden of Plants, 123 — MM. Brongniart and Edwards, 124 — Ce
dar of Lebanon of Jussieu's planting, 125 — Zoological De
partment, Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy, 126 — Gallery
of Zoology, Sir Francis Head, 127 — Collection in Mineral
ogy and Geology, 128 — Botanical Gallery and Library, 129.
Pere la Chaise, 129-133 — Notre Dame, 133 — Versailles, 134-138 
Arc de Triomph, 139 — Magnificent view from, 140 — Arcde
Carrousel, 141 — Column of July, 142 — Medical College, and
Lecture by Prof. Wurtz, 144 — Medical Museums, 145.
Palace of St. Cloud, 146 — Pictures, 147 — Gobelin Tapestry, 148 
Sevres Porcelain, 149 — Inlaid floors, 149.
Manufactory of Porcelain, 150 — Museum of, 151 — M. Eblemars,
152 — Chapel Ferdinand, 153 — Manufacture of Gobelin Ta
pestry, 156 — Pi-of. Fremy's Lecture, 157 — The Mint, M. Pe-
louze, 158 — Geological Collections, M. de Verneullle, 159

Contents. v
— Cuvier's Museum, 160 — Museum of the School of Mines,
M. Dufrenoy, 161 — MM. de Beaumont, Bayle and Senar-
mont, 162 — The Pantheon, 162 — Experiment of Mr. Fou-
chault, 163— Public Worship, 164— The Madelene, 165.
Club Dinner, 166-168 — Dejeuner a la Fourchette, 168 — Scientific
Artists, 169.
The French Academy, 171 — Distinguished men met there, 172.
DEPARTURE FROM PARIS for Lyons, 163— The Diligence, 174—
Places passed on the Road, 175 — Tonnere to Dijon, 176.
DIJON, 179— Churches and public buildings, 180 — Palace of the Dukes
of Burgundy, 181 — Tombs of Philip leHardi and Jean Sans
Puer, 183 — Railroadto Chalons, 184 — Chalons, 185 — Chalons
to Lyons, 186 — Steamers on the Rhone, Bridges, 187.
LYONS 188— Arrival, Porters, 188— Hotel d'Univers, 189— Public
Square la Belle Cour, 190 — Museum, 191 — Manufactures
of Silk, 192 — The Weavers; 193 — View from the tower on
the Hill Fouvriere, 194 — Roman Monuments, 196 — Ancient
Massacres, 198.
LYONS TO VALENCE, 199— Vienne, 200— Climate and Vine Cul
ture, 201 — Alps of Dauphiny, 202 — Sabbath in Valence, 202
— Communion Service, 203 — Valence to Avignon, Pont St.
Esprit, 304.
AVIGNON, 205 — Ancient Papal Palace, 204 — Interesting Roman
remains in the Museum, 206.
AVIGNON TO NISMES AND ARLES, 207— Roman Amphitheatre, at
Nismes, 208 — Roman Temple, Maison Carre and its Museum,
211 — Ancient Gateways, 211 — Fountain of the Nymphs, 212
— Nymphaeum and Pont du Garde, 213— Progress ofthe
Season, 214 — Amphitheatre at Arles, 214 — Its Masonry,
215 — Roman Theatre and decayed appearance of Aries,
216.
TO MARSEILLES by Night, 219— Our Consul Mr. Hodge and
Church of Notre Dame du Garde, 218 — Commerce and Health
of Marseilles, 219 — Our Courier, 220 — Hi3 duties and per
sonal history, 221.
MARSEILLES TO GENOA by Land, 222— Face of the country, bar
ren hills, villages, 223 — Maritime Alps and Lord Brougham's
Villa, 224 — Semitropical vegetation, enter Sardinia, Na
poleon's Column at Canne, 225.
ENTRANCE INTO ITALY, 226— Custom House at the Bar, 226—
Nice, 227 — Its appearance and history, 228.

vi Contents.
NICE TO SAVONA AND GENOA, 229— Francois engages a Vettu-
rine for the Riviera Road, 229— Retrospect of Nice and
View of the snowy Alps, 230— The Reviera or Cornice
Road, the Ancient Aurelian Way, 231— Scenery and slide
of the Mountain, 232 — Mentone, husbandry, poverty of
the people, 233— Ventimiglia, 234 — Palm trees and dates,
St. Reme, 235— Mountain torrents, a crafty Ligurian, Oneg
lia the birth-place of Andrea Doria, 236 — Gigantic Ge
ological section, 237 — A Sardinian inn at Alassio, 238 —
Progress toward Genoa, Allenza, Finale and Cathedral of St.
John, 240— Tunnels through the Mountains, perilous preci
pices, 241 — Savon a, comfortable hotel, 242 — Port of Savona,
Columbus, 243 — Savona to Genoa, Rovagnie, Congoletto and
Voltri, 244.
GENOA, 217 — Aspect of Genoa from the water, fine ride, large Land
traffic and Beggars, 245 — Geology, 246 — Early History,
Monument to Columbus, 248 — Streets, 249 — Architecture
and Palaces, 250 — Palace Brignole Sale, CnTiRcnES, 251 —
St. Ambrose, 252 — Unfinished Appearance of the Churches
exteriorly, 253  Palatacini Villa, 253 — Hedge of Roses,
Marble Palace and. Terrace, 254 — Temples, Fountains, and
Groves, 255—56 — Grotto and Lake, 257, 25S — Monument to
Chiabrera,259 — Wine inHogskins, 260 — Dilapidated Palaces,
261 — Palazzo Doria, 262.
GENOA TO LEGHORN and Civita Vecchia, 262, 264— Steamer Bos-
phore, second embarkation, 262 — Leghorn, English Resi
dents, Aqueduct and Fountain, 263 — Artificial Harbor,
View of Elba, 264 — Harbor of Civita Vecchia, Port of
Trajan, 265 — Montenegro Chief and his Attendants, 266.
CIVITA VECCHIA to Rome, Castle of Santa Severa, 266— Miserable
aspect of the Country, 267 — Reflections, 267 — Beautiful
Castle, St. Peter's Dome in the distance, Ancient Aqueduct,
Enter Rome by the Porta Cavalleggieri, Piazza del Populo
and Hotel des Isles Brittannique, 269.
ROME, Reflections, 270 — Industrious use of time, Vicissitudes,
271 — Spoliations, 272 — Building Materials, travertine, pe-
perino, Ancient Basalt from the Alban Hills, 273 — Heathen
Rome, 274 — The Tiber, Excursion to Tivoli, 275 — Church
of St. Maria degli Angeli, Michael Angelo, 276 — St. Lorenzo,
towers, 277 — Geology — Solfaterra Lake, 278, 279 — Ancient
Bridge (pons mammeus) Via Tiburtine, 280.
Hadrian's Villa, 281 — Tivoli Scenery and Antiquities, 282 — Arti-

Contents. vii
ficial Galleries and River, Accident of 1826 — Cataracts, 283
— Donkey Ride and return to Rome, 284.
ROME FROM THE TOWER OF THE CAPITOL, 285— Distribution
and Altitude ofthe Hills, 286, 287 — General View of Rome,
288 — The Forum and Arch of Septimius Severus, 289 —
Jupiter Tonans, and Temple of Concordia, 290 — Via Saora,
and Column of Phocas, 291 — Arch of Titus and The Capitol,
292 — Roman Milestone,MuSEUM of the Capitol, 293 — Antique
Busts and Statues, 294 — Statues in Rome, 295 — Skill in
working Hard Stones, Ancient Map, 296 — Tarpeian Rock
and Coliseum, 297, 298— The Pantheon, 299— Ancient
Monuments — Tomb of Raphael, 301 — Tomb of Cecilia Me-
tella, 302 — Pyramid of Caius Cestus, 303— English Ceme
tery, 304 — Columns of Antonine and Trajan, 305 — Castle
of St. Angelo, 306, 307.
Churches — St. Maria Maggiore, 308 — St. John Lateran, 309 — Late
ran Palace and Museum, 309 — St. Peter's, 311-315 — The
Vatican Pictures, 316 — Frescoes by Michael Angelo and
Raphael, 317 — The Stanze described, 317-319 — Sistine
Chapel, 320 — Raphael's Tapestries, Gallery of Ancient
Monuments and Statues, 321, 322 — Egyptian Museum, 323
— Etruscan Antiquities, 324— Jewelry, 325 — The Library,
Vases, 326 — Relics of the Early Christians, 327 — Cameos,
328.
Church of St. Sebastian and the Catacombs, 329 — Tomb of the
Scrpios, AppIan Way, 331 — Mamertine Prison, 33-5 — Con
vent and Cemetery of the Capuchins, 336 — A Golgotha, 337
— Collegio de Propagande Fide, 338 — Collegio della Sapienza,
339.
Other Memorials of Ancient Rome, 339 — Circus of Romulus, 340 —
The Palace of the Caesars, 341 — Fountain of Egeria, Cloaca
Maxima, 342 — Modern Palaces, 344 — Barbarini and Colonna
Palaces, 345 — Borghese Palace and Villa Albani, 346 — Mis
cellaneous, 347,
ROME TO NAPLES, 348— Monte Albano, and Aricia, 349— Velletri
and Pontine Marshes, 350 — Terracina, the Neapolitan,
Boundary at Midnight, 351 — First View of Vesuvius, 352.
NAPLES, 352 — H6tel des Etrangers, Service at the Chapel of the
English Embassy, 352 — Excursion to Herculaneum and
Pompeii, 353 — Portici, Resina, Torre del Greco, 354 — Aspect
of Vesuvius, approach to Pompeii, 355 — House of Diomede,
356 — Eruption oe Aug. 24, a. d. 79, 357 — Death of Pliny,

viii Contents.
Remains of the Family of Diomede, 358— Stratification of the
Ashes, Streets of Pompeii, 359— Tombs, Discovery of Pom
peii in 1748, Mosaics, 361— Frescoes, New Excavations, 362
—The Forum, 364— The Theatres, 365— Public Baths, Foun
tains, Ancient City Walls, 366— Baker's Shop, Glass, Hollow
Walls, 367.
The Museum (Musceo Borbonico), 368— Utensils, 369— Works of Art,
The Candelabra, 370— Surgical Instruments, Pills, House
hold Gods, 371— Ancient Sculptures, Farnese Bull, 372.
Herculaneum, 37 3— Earthquake, A. d. 63, 373— Herculaneum like
Pompeii was buried in pumice and ashes, not in fluid
Lava, 374 — Discoveries in Herculaneum, the Theatre, 375 —
The Well, Reflections, 376— Papyri, Z11— Remarks, 378—
Stable, 379— Vesuvius, 380— Road up the Mountain, Vol
canic Hill, 380 — Regular disposition of the loose matter in
Beds; Observatory and Prof. Melloni, 381 — Our Moun
tain Guides, Contention, 382 — Ride to the Cone, 383 —
Ladies carried -in Chairs, 383 — Mode of ascent, Appearance
of the Cone, 384 — Explorations on the Summit, 385 — Sub
lime View, Depth of the Crater, 386 — Loss of Life in the
Eruption of 1850, Appearance of the Interior of the Cone,
387 — Eruption of February, 1850, Views from Vesuvius, 388 —
Descent to the Valley of Somma, 389 — Lava and Minerals
of Vesuvius, 390 — Accumulation of Lava, 391 — Height and
Origin of Vesuvius, 392.
Environs' of Naples, 393 — Grotto of Posilippo, 394 — Lake Agnano,
Grotto del Cane, 395 — Villa of Lucullus and Hot Vapor
Baths, 397 — Tomb of Virgil, 398 — Bay of Baiae, 399 —
Puteoli, 400 — Temple of Jupiter Serapis, 400 — Description
of the Ruins, 401, 402 — The Columns are not Monolithic,
Geological Inferences, 403 — Era of these Changes, Remains
of Caligula's Bridge, 405 — Interest of these Ruins.
The Solfateera, 406 — Blast of Acid Vapor, Sulphur and Arsenic,
407 — Manufacture of Alum by Volcanic Heat, Hot Baths
of Nero, 408 — Perfect Condition of the Apartments, 409 —
Monte Nuovo, 410 — Lucrine Lake and Cave of the Sibyls,
411 — Ancient. Excavations and Towns, 412 — Temples on
the Bay of Baiae, 413 — Lakes and Prisons of Nero, Piscina,
Mirabile, 414 — Mole and Bridge of Puzzoli, 415 — Amphi
theatre of Puzzoli, 416— Peculiar mode of Construction, 417
— Reflections, 418.

INTKODUCTION AND EXPLANATION.
IN the years 1805 and 1806, I passed twelve months in
Europe, chiefly in England and Scotland, with an interlude
of a month in Holland and Belgium.
My observations were recorded in a journal addressed to my
only brother, then, like myself, a young man ; and although
not originally so intended, circumstances, after a few years,
induced their publication. Three successive editions appeared,
and a fourth was arrested by the failure of the publisher.
Although the work has been long out of print, it has not
passed into oblivion, being still in request, especially by travel
lers about to visit the countries which it describes. Between
the termination of the early tour — June, 1806, and the com
mencement of the recent one, March, 1851 — nearly forty-five
years had elapsed, and they had borne me along, on the
resistless tide of time, through the most interesting scenes and
relations of human life, from its bright morning to its serene
evening. If an only brother prompted my early efforts, an
only son induced those of a later date.
For his sake chiefly, I consented to cross the ocean again,
and to put forth all requisite energy in travelling, at a period
of life when most men desist from wandering, and seek the
quiet of home.
Accustomed through life, when journeying, to record im
portant observations, I readily yielded to the wishes of my
Vol. i.— 1

2 Introduction and Explanation.
children, who invited me to do it now, and thus an unbroken
record, as in my youthful travels, was preserved from the be
ginning to the end of the tour. As then, it was fully written
out as far as possible " at the time, and on the spot." Al
though I wrote, in the present instance, chiefly for my children,
other persons, whose judgment, taste, and candor entitle them
to confidence, having perused these sketches, have recom
mended their publication.
Still, the writer is bound to make up his own mind, inde
pendently, as he has endeavored to do, upon the value of his
observations, before he offers them to the public. The coun
tries visited by me, and my domestic party, during the late
season, were England, Wales, France, Sardinia, Tuscany, Borne,
and the Boman States, Naples, and the Neapolitan States, in
cluding Sicily ; also Lombardy and the Venetian States,
Switzerland, Geneva and the Alps, and the Jura Mountains,
Germany, Prussia, Belgium, and again France and England.
These countries, it is true, are familiar to travellers ; many
Americans have passed over them during the late season, and
they have been often described. Still, to those who have re
mained at home (and only a very small portion of mankind
can ever travel abroad), recent narrative and description may
have the freshness of novelty ; the reader soon becomes identi
fied with the traveller, and enjoys with him the beautiful and
grand in nature, and the productions of human skill in the
useful and ornamental arts.
While glancing over my manuscripts, with reference to the
question of publication, I have found that the interest of the
hour is easily revived ; the enthusiasm which impelled us along
through many thousand miles, in many different countries, is
kindled afresh, and it is not difficult to believe that others,
being made partakers of our adventures, may participate alsc
in our excited and gratified feelings.
If my early travels were deemed instructive and interest-

Introduction and Explanation. 8
ing, I may hope that those of my mature years may not prove
a failure; especially as the advantage is not often enjoyed by
travellers of making comparisons at periods of time so distant.
It is also true that different classes of objects will arrest the
attention of different observers ; the manner in which they are
viewed and described will take its hue and form from the
mind and taste of the writer, and therefore each work will have
its own peculiar character.
The recent tour was made at a fortunate period. Europe
was then, on its surface, in a state of profound tranquillity, and
no moral or physical impediment interfered with our peaceful
progress. With the advantage on the continent of an ex
perienced and faithful courier, all matters of police, relating to
passports and baggage, were successfully arranged, so that we
were never stopped, and rarely hindered, nor were we for a mo
ment placed in fear.
We saw, indeed, in many countries, the ravages of revolu
tion and of civil war ; cities scarred and mutilated by shot and
shells ; exploded fortresses in ruins ; private dwellings and
palaces burned, and entire streets with nothing remaining but
smoked and tottering walls. The calm which we witnessed was,
however, that of military despotism ; for the bayonet and musket,
the sabre and cannon, in the hands of legions of soldiers, held
the people in awe, while they secured the quiet and safety of
peaceful travellers like ourselves. To us, abstaining from all
interference in the politics of Europe, the sublime and beauti
ful in nature, and the instruction which they afford in science ;
the monuments of antiquity ; the places rendered memorable
by historical events, or by physical eatastrophies ; galleries of
the fine arts ; collections in natural history ; the triumphs of
architecture and of engineering ; establishments of physical sci
ence, and of the useful arts ; eminent individuals, and the face
of human society, presented sources of contemplation that were
never exhausted. Safety, progress, and comfortable lodgings

4 Introduction and Explanation.
being secured, we made little account of petty annoyances,
and our history was, therefore, that of prosperous and happy
travellers; protected on the seas and in every country, by
a kind Providence, and returned to their own land without
an hour's interruption by sickness, and without the slightest
accident. If the reader is willing to accompany such a party, which
was cheered by the companionship of well educated and intel
ligent ladies, and impelled by the ardor and energy of young
men, while years and experience added the balance of caution,
it is hoped that he will not be disposed to desert in the pro
gress of the journey, and that he will find it rich in sources of
entertainment and instruction ; although perilous adventures
and hairbreadth escapes, which were never encountered, form
no part of the story.
When matters of science came in our way, or were sought
out by us, they were recorded in a readable and intelligible
form, without unnecessary technicality, and will be found, as is
believed, to harmonize with the general plan and spirit of the
narrative. Of scientific men, and other eminent individuals, I have
not hesitated to write freely, because I could write favorably,
and I have often mentioned their names ; I have even taken
that liberty sometimes in domestic scenes, but never except
where they illustrated manners and the state of society, and
when the notice taken of them presented the persons and their
families in an attractive and favorable light. Domestic scenes
of an opposite kind we never met with, and had it been other
wise, I should certainly have passed them in silence.
Topics of science (as in general they stand detached) may
be omitted by persons to whom they are not interesting ; they
do not interfere with those more popular subjects that are
attractive to all, and which form the great body of the work,
while they are sufficiently numerous to give dignity to the nar-

Introduction and Explanation. 5
rative, of which truth* is the soul, — truth as regards the history
of the past and the delineation of the present. There is no
occasion to resort to fiction, while facts are hung up before the
eyes in ripe clusters, which need only to be gathered to form a
rich and grateful vintage.
* The entire narrative has been rewritten, and if there are errors,
they are not those of neglect and inattention.

I.
gjprtatt from ^m-^axl anl> Dsswgt to ^iktpal
March 5, 1851.
A PASSAGE to Europe, and especially to Liverpool, is so
common an event, that any notice of it may seem quite
superfluous. Still such important changes have taken place in the means
of travelling by sea, since I left New-York in my former tour,
April 4, 1805, that a few remarks, chiefly connected with that
subject, may be interesting, especially to the youthful part of
my readers.
Then (April, 1805) a few friends lingered on the pier in
the East River, while the swelling sails of the Ontario soon bore
us beyond their ken. The Ontario was one of the largest of
the ships then in the Liverpool trade— her measurement being
between 400 and 500 tons. She was, however, a weak ship —
labored heavily in gales of wind, and perished, with all on
board, on the homeward-bound passage.*
No other ship for Liverpool was up at that time, or I should
not have hazarded a passage in her.
Nothing was then known of the noble packet ships, models
of strength and beauty, with the tonnage of sloops-of-war, and
* She was injured by being stranded in coming out of the dock
in Liverpool but was repaired at great expense.

8 Voyagk to Liverpool.
the accommodations of splendid private dwellings, which now
hold a fair rivalry with the ocean steamers.
In one of these steamers, on this occasion, our party took
their passage. The Baltic, of the Collins Line, an United
States Mail Steamer, commanded by Captain Comstock, left
the dock in the North River at noon, March 5, 1851. Her
splendid saloons and ample decks were previously crowded by
hundreds of genteel and intelligent people — some impelled by
curiosity — but most of them drawn by affection, to take leave
of departing friends. My own family,* with only one excep
tion, were all present, to bid adieu to a father, and brother, and
sister, and son, and the near relatives of the other members of
our party of seven, were added to the group. The warning
bell which remanded visitors to the shore, now cleared the
decks of all except the passengers ; and many a glazed eye
from the pier shot upward its smiles, shining through tears,
like sunbeams in an evening shower. The last bell struck its
mournful peal, and the parting gun thundered farewell ! when
the chains that held the ship were dropped ; the escape pipe
became mute as the steam was turned upon the machinery, and
in an instant the powerful wheels gave headway to the floating
castle. But a few minutes of speed, every instant increased,
were allowed for the waving of hands and handkerchiefs, till
both they and the persons of our friends faded away in the dim
distance, and before evening we had passed the Narrows and
the Hook — had dismissed our pilot, and shot out into the ocean
billows. As similar passages are now made every week, the details
of ours will be omitted, except a few facts illustrative of the
ocean steam navigation, and of the structure and economy of
* I shall be pardoned for mentioning that the only brother, nam
ed in the preceding introduction, was then present, in vigorous
health.

Voyage to Liverpool. 9
those unrivalled steamers of the Collins Line, which now so
justly command the public confidence and admiration; and
perhaps a few other interesting notices may be added, of a mis
cellaneous character.
Notices of the Structure and Economy of the Steamer
Baltic. — By the courtesy of Captain Comstock, I was permit
ted, with my son, to examine the Baltic. I recorded my ob
servations, and on reading them to the Captain, they were found
to be correct, except a few emendations and additions.
Although the structure and economy of these ocean steam
ers are familiar in New-York, Boston, and a few other principal
seaports, the information may be acceptable to the thousands
who have not enjoyed similar opportunities. I may remark
that, having crossed the ocean in two of the Collins steamers,
the Baltic and the Pacific, and having examined the Arctic,
while still on the stocks, and when she was near to being fin
ished, I have had sufficient opportunities of becoming acquainted
with them, and also with several of the British steamers, includ
ing those of the largest size.
Size of the Baltic, 3200 tons, carpenter's measure ; this
is equal to the size of a frigate, or an Indiaman, of the first
class. The length of the Baltic is 287 feet — breadth of beam, 46
feet — depth of the hold 32 feet ; to the top of the gunwale 34
feet 6 inches.
Diameter of the Wheels 36 feet; number of floats* in
each wheel 26; their length 12£ feet; breadth 28 inches;
thickness 3$ inches; each float is armed with 300 pounds
of iron, and six men are required to lift one of them.
The Engine has two working cylinders, each of 96 inches
inside diameter in the clear ; length of stroke 10 feet ; number
* Answering to the buckets or paddles of a common water-wheel
of a mill. 1*

10 Voyage to Liverpool.
of revolutions in a minute 11 to 14, and when the ship is light
12 to 16.
The Vacuum is equivalent to 14 pounds upon the square
inch— a near approximation to a perfect vacuum, which corres
ponds to 15 pounds on the square inch.
Pressure of Steam, 12 to 20 pounds upon the square
inch; usually 12 to 15 pounds; this is all the amount of the
power tending to produce explosion, while including what is
gained by the vacuum, the effective motive power is equivalent
to 26, 29 and 34 pounds on the square inch. The highest
pressure used in our passage was 18 pounds, equivalent to a
working force of 32 pounds, and the lowest was 1 or 8 pounds,
giving a moving force of 21 or 22 pounds.
The ability of the boilers corresponds to 50 pounds, and
with the addition of the vacuum to 64 pounds; it follows,
therefore, that they are generally worked with less than half
their power.
The entire weight ofthe steam machinery is 1000 tons, and
it occupies 60 feet in the length of the ship.
Capacity for Passengers, 160 berths, aside from the ac
commodations for the people of the ship.
Strength of Structure. — The timbers are fitted side by
side, and calked so tight that it was said the ship would float
even before she was planked. Plates of iron 6 inches wide and
1£ inches thick, are let in, obliquely, into the timbers at the
distance of 28 inches from the centres of each, and therefore
they are 22 inches apart.
They are crossed obliquely by other bars, or plates of the
same dimensions, which are let into the boards or planks that
are nailed over them. Copper bolts, for 20 feet from the keel,
pass through the plates of iron at their intersection, and in
many other places, and copper sheathing covers 18 feet of the
lower part of the hull, the draft being 19 feet, and 20 with the
coal in.

Voyage to Liverpool. 11
The ships of this line are as strong as wood, iron and cop
per can make them, and they hardly leak at all. They would
bear long thumping upon the rocks before they would go to
pieces. The movement of the machinery, and the stroke of
the waves produce scarcely a perceptible tremor, and not the
slightest deviation in the deck from a right line can be seen,
when viewed horizontally from stem to stern through its length
of nearly 300 feet.
No opening of a joint is perceived even in the beams that
form the capping of the gunwale; a knife-blade cannot be
passed between their contiguous ends.
Position of the Machinery, resting on the iron bed-plate,
on the kelson, or engine bed ; the bed-plate, which is cast in
one piece, weighs 40 tons. The machinery is below, and is
invisible from the deck, except through certain doors. A wave
can hardly reach it at all, even should it break over the ship ;
and by closing the apertures above, the engine room is safe
from flooding, while ventilation is secured by large tubes, hav
ing their orifices higher than the upper or promenade deck.*
The people below, on the level of the kelson, where there is
little motion, hardly know when there is a storm above ; they
live in a comparatively quiet world of their own, and always
in a tropical climate, even when among icebergs.
Working of the Machinery. — It travels onward with the
most admirable ease and regularity ; even with a heavy head
wind and opposing waves, it moves like clockwork, without
apparent labor, throwing up its mighty arms and moving its
ponderous levers as if there were no weight to be lifted, or vis
inertias to be overcome.
By observations made up to the 10 th day of the passage,
and within 450 miles of Cape Clear, in Ireland, there had not
been the slightest leak of steam, nor had it been necessary to
* Called in our Western boats the hurricane deck.

12 Voyage to Liverpool.
turn a screw, although for several days together we breasted a
heavy head sea, impelled by adverse winds.
Except the effect of hidden flaws in the immense masses
of wrought iron that form some of the principal moving parts,
¦ there seems to be little cause for anxiety, as the machinery ap
pears to be, in general, equal to every emergency.
Danger from Fire — always a subject of anxiety ; but in
ships protected as the Baltic is, the danger is believed to be less
than in a sailing ship. The engine room is lined with iron ; the
boilers and their furnaces are everywhere surrounded by that
metal and by water, and no wood is in a position to be unduly
heated. All lights, except those necessary to the management of
the ship, are extinguished at eleven o'clock ; many people
are up all night, and are about in every place; there are
fire engines always ready to flood the ship, and they are
adapted so as to be wrought both by hand and by steam power.
Still the danger from fire is very formidable, as has been too
often experienced on the lakes and rivers of North America,
also in the bay of Gibraltar, in the case of the U. S. frigate Mis
souri, and very recently in the almost entire destruction of the
people on board the Amazon, an English steamer near the
Stilly light.
Behavior as a Sea-Boat. — Admirable in every variety
of weather. This immense vessel rides upon the waves like a
duck, and has, in general, a dry and comfortable deck, rarely
shipping a sea — although the spray dashes over the forecastle
in showers. I know not whether rolling is peculiarly incident to steam
ships ; the Baltic often rolls one wheel deep under the water,
where it labors hard, while the other revolves, without resist
ance, in the air ; and thus they alternate.
Comparative Safety. — On a lee shore, or approaching
breakers or icebergs, or among them, the steam vessel has a

Voyage to Liverpool. 13
very decided advantage, not to mention her power of advanc
ing against winds, waves, and currents, and of making headway
when, after a gale, a heavy swell, without wind, is so distressing
to sailing ships ; and all dangers are diminished in proportion
as the time is shortened. Except danger from the breaking of
machinery, there appears hardly any point in which the steam
ship is liable to peculiar hazard. The experience of the dis
abled Collins steamer, Atlantic, in returning to Europe over
two-thirds of the width of the ocean, by the use of her sails and
spars alone,* has, however, greatly increased the public confi
dence in this kind of vessels.
Warming of the Ship. — This is effectually accomplished
by steam tubes, passing under the marble tables. A passage
across the Northern Atlantic early in March — running from
42° to 52° of latitude — is of course a cold one ; and as we
came near the region of the floating ice, the thermometer
sunk suddenly to 32°, and the decks were glazed with sleet
and snow. Our cautious commander prudently steered a little
south to avoid the ice ; and, for myself, I had no disposition to
renew the interview with the floating bergs, as I saw them,
during a day and a night, in April, 1805. It was believed
that we sailed within a few miles of them.
As we approached the mouth of the channel, the motion
of the ship was stopped for twenty minutes, for the purpose of
examining the machinery, when it was found to be in perfect
order. Numbers in the Ship. — More than 50 persons are em
ployed about the machinery, of whom 48 attend to the coal
and the fires, and there are six or eight engineers.
There are 30 to 40 servants — 20 to 25 sailors, and 3 or 4
supernumerary officers — in all, about 140 — besides 10 passen
gers — more than 200 persons in all.
* She was favored by a fair wind ; otherwise her people might
have been in danger of starvation.

14 Voyage to Liverpool.
Returning in the Pacific, we had more than 400.
Style and Furnishing. — Very elegant — rich enough for
a nobleman's villa. Of mirrors, large and small, there are
about 50 ; indeed, they are in such excess that a passenger
cannot look in any direction without meeting his own image, or
the faces of his companions. In an accidental position in which
I was one day reading, I looked up, and saw six repetitions
of myself, and the original made seven — equal to the entire
number of our own party. Surely the most inordinate self-love
would be satisfied with so many reduplications.
The table was amply supplied, and had the best attendance ;
articles of animal food were packed in ice ; of luxuries there
was a great abundance, and if any articles were not ihe best,
they were too few and too unimportant to be worth mentioning.
The passengers were all courteous, and many were very
agreeable ; having ladies in our party, we were entitled to sit
in the ladies' cabin, in which, however, on both passages, con
versation was almost drowned, when there was a heavy swell,
by the incessant groaning and creaking of the partitions and
doors. The officers were very attentive to the ship, and kind to
the passengers. Captain Comstock was mild and very oblig
ing, but in command, cool and decisive, with a clear mind and
sound judgment. The passengers, on their arrival, presented
him with a gold chronometer of the value of £50, with reso
lutions of approbation for himself, his officers, and engineers.
Religious Observances. — Bibles and prayer-books were
to be found on all the tables, and on the second Sabbath, in
the English Channel, we had worship conducted by devout
laymen, as there was no clergyman on board. Profane or
improper language of any kind was not heard, except in the
forecastle among the sailors.
Speed of the Ship.— We descried Ireland on the tenth
day. Our progress had averaged 250 miles in twenty-four

Voyage to Liverpool. 15
hours, and we usually made ten miles an hour even against
strong winds and a head sea.
It was truly admirable to see a great ship holding bravely
and steadily on her course, despite of winds, waves, and cur
rents, and making her passage in one-half or one-third of the
time commonly occupied by a sailing ship ; my passage out,
April, 1805, was 26 days — a rapid transit for that period.
Head of Old Kinsale. — It was a bright and beautiful
Sabbath morning, when, with a smooth sea and a balmy air, our
decks being alive with cheerful passengers, we were ploughing
our way rapidly along and very near to the Irish coast on our
left, so that the land, with all its scenery, was in full view.
Here, within two or three miles, rose the rocky promontory
of the Head of Old Kinsale, upon which the Albion Captain
Williams, an American packet ship for Liverpool, was wrecked
in April, 1822. All the officers, most of the people, and all
the cabin passengers (save one*), 40 in number, perished in
the midst of a tremendous nocturnal tempest. With the aid of
a good telescope and the instructions of the captain, I could
identify the exact place ; a vertical and lofty cliff, against
which, on that fatal night, the billows broke so furiously that
no one could land, and the ship immediately went to pieces.
The sight was intensely interesting to me, because our
gifted Professor Fisher, of Yale College, a young man of the
first promise, was among the sufferers. His talents were of a
high order, and his acquisitions, for a man of 26 years of age,
were wonderful in variety and accuracy, and perhaps never
surpassed. He had a sensitive dread of the dangers of the
sea, and did not decide on the voyage without much hesi
tation.! * Mr. Everhart, of Chester, Pennsylvania.
f To his friend, Prof. Olmsted, we are indebted for an interesting
memoir of him.

16 Arrival in Liverpool.

$miral ra fitarpri.
In such narrow seas, with rock-bound shores, serene and
bright weather is ever most welcome ; such weather we en
joyed ; between the Tuscar Rock, the eastern point of Ireland,
and Holyhead, in the Isle of Anglesea, we passed in a quiet
night, and the light-houses made our course safe and certain.
The morning, however, brought fog and rain, but we
dropped anchor in the Mersey at 8£ a. m., on Monday, March
17, — our passage having been accomplished in eleven days
and twenty-one hours. One of the Cunard steamers had the
advantage of us by one day in the length of her passage, not
having deviated from her course on account of the ice. An
amicable rivalry is now sustained between that fine line and
the American steamers. Both perform their duty admirably,
and Liverpool and New- York are virtually but 1000 miles
apart. A small English steamer soon came alongside of our lofty
ship, and one of the first persons whom we recognized was
Captain West, of the American steamer Atlantic, respecting
which vessel such intense solicitude had been experienced at
home. We were gratified to learn that on examination of the
broken shaft at Birmingham, no flaw or fault had been dis
covered in the iron ; the fracture arose simply from mechanical
stress, a greater task having been assigned to it in impelling so
large a vessel against the winds and the waves, than it was
able to accomplish.
Similar accidents have occurred repeatedly among the
British Steamers.

Liverpool. 17

The Landing. — The small steamer took first the baggage
on shore, and after a delay of two hours (not very patiently
endured by the passengers, who, being unwilling to remain be
low, were standing out in the fog and rain), we all passed down
the long and steep stairs, which placed us safely on the deck
of the humble tender ; and soon, with hearts grateful to our
Infinite Preserver, we gladly leaped upon the quay, and I was
truly happy to tread again the soil of Old England. It seemed
as if the many years which had passed since I was here in my
youth, were expunged, and that the two periods were fused
into one* Such a feeling was, however, instantly repressed by
the certainty that most of those whom I had known, when I
was here before, must have passed away, and that it would be
happy if a single individual known to me here at that period,
should now be found.

March IT.
Mr. John Taylor. — Such an individual was, however,
found. In my former visit to England, an accidental meeting
in May, 1805, in a stage-coach, on a ride between Liverpool
and Manchester, secured to me from a citizen of that place,
useful and agreeable attentions and domestic hospitality. The
mutual kindness thus produced, did not die away, and in later
years has been revived and cherished by correspondence.
I trust it is not improper to add that my friend, Mr.
John Taylor, formerly of Manchester, but for many years an

18 Liverpool.
eminent merchant in Liverpool, being informed of our intended
visit to Europe, had kindly made every arrangement for our
accommodation, and his servant was on the wharf waiting out-
landing, with a letter explaining the details. My son and our
younger friend and fellow-traveller, Mr. B., proceeded to the
Custom House, and without trouble or delay, passed our bag
gage. Under the guidance of Mr. Taylor's servant, I proceeded
with the ladies and our two young gentlemen, Messrs. C. and
F., to our appointed home, the Stork Hotel in Queen's Square,
where we were soon rejoined by our friends with the lug
gage from the Custom House. Here, through the kind care
of Mr. Taylor, we found the fire burning in our pleasant
parlor, and our bed-rooms all ready for our reception. Thus
we were immediately domesticated, and at once felt at home
in England ; — in half an hour I had the pleasure, in our par
lor, of taking my old friend by the hand, and of receiving, with
my companions, his hearty welcome to the fatherland.
A hearty welcome indeed it was, with an equally cordial
response. We parted, it is true, in the morning of life, and we
now met again in its sober evening ; but although the snows
had descended upon our heads, and had not melted, the social
warmth, like the fires which glow in the bosom of snowy Etna,
had not burned out, and we soon became young again.
We might have passed in the street without recognition, but
former impressions were soon revived, and although my early
friend had now blanched locks, he bore no mark of infirmity.
I found him, both mentally and physically, in full vigor — his
natural ardor not abated, his manners most amiable and kind,
and he entered into our views and plans with great zeal and
intelligence ; his features, person, and manner gradually rein
stated themselves in my recollection, and we travelled back in
turn to his worthy father's house in Manchester, and began
again where we had left off in our youth.

Liverpool. 19
The rain and the grateful repose from the agitation of the
sea, with a dinner served up to our party in the peculiarly
comfortable style of Old England, not a whit abated from the
good taste of gone-by years, gave us a delightful feeling of
home ; and our sympathies for the homes we had left were
quickened by an unanimous resort, in the evening, to our pens,
to give our friends in America the assurance of our safety and
happiness ; nor did we forget, as a family, to return thanks to
Heaven for our safe and rapid passage, and for the happy en
trance upon our European travels.
Other Friends. — I soon found that I had been too hasty
in concluding that, in Liverpool, we should be both unknowing
and unknown. We were warmly greeted by Mr. Washington
Jackson and his son, and the amiable ladies of that interesting
family, all of whom we had known in New Orleans and in
New Haven ; nor less cordial was Mr. Clare, an intelligent
young gentleman of Liverpool, whom I had known at my own
house, and who also had now a home of his own, graced by a
lovely wife, and a circle of friends, who made an evening at
their house very pleasant to me. A home was warmly prof
fered to us by the Jacksons, but as our stay would be short,
it was not in our power to accept their hospitable overtures.
Among those whom I knew in 1805, 1 no longer found
Mr. Freme and his estimable lady, nor Mr. Ewart, with his
high official friends, nor the accomplished scholar, historian
and poet, Roscoe ; and no wonder, for the time which bears
away a generation of men, and half another, had passed, and
those, now in the meridian or even in the early evening twi
light of life, both in Liverpool and every where else, were then
children, and. not a few of them unborn.
From what we now saw of the people we could not enter
tain a doubt that, had we allowed ourselves time to cultivate
the society of individuals, we should have found all the kind
ness and all the useful services which we could have desired.

20 Liverpool.
But we were in haste to proceed to the continent, and there
fore we had not the leisure at command which this great city
deserved. We enjoyed the hospitality of Mr. Taylor, and during the
hours passed at his house received much interesting informa
tion on many subjects.
It is indeed extraordinary that a man of business — a mer
chant, who is constant in his counting-room, and vigilant in
watching the markets, should have a mind overflowing with
knowledge, as his heart is with kindness. Astronomy, classical
literature, poetry, history, antiquities and the fine arts, com
merce and manufactures, public policy and efforts of benevo
lence, all find a lodgment in his capacious mind. He is a warm
friend to the liberties of mankind, but is not a bigoted adherent
to any party in his own country, in which he takes an inde
pendent position for its prosperity. He is a decided friend to
the United States, as was his father before him, who was also a
warm admirer of Washington ; — the family being from Scot
land, they have an hereditary right to be lovers of liberty. Mr.
Taylor is an amateur astronomer, and has sustained a corres
pondence with some of the most eminent astronomers of the
day, Sir John Herschel, Encke, Airy, Le Verrier, and others.
When we were about to leave Liverpool, he furnished us with
written instructions and memoranda as to the interesting objects
on our proposed route (which will soon be mentioned), and we
found all his suggestions to be correct, especially as to what re
lated to antiquities and the physical features of the country.
He gave us also letters of introduction to some of the most
eminent philosophers in Rome.
In 1805 I had more leisure, and in my former journal, Liv
erpool, as it then was, is described with sufficient fulness, and
those who have perused that work will appreciate the few com
parisons which it was now in my power to make.

Liverpool in 1851. 21

£itaipurt in 1851.
This city is so enlarged and changed since my former visit,
that, except for its position on the Mersey, I should hardly know
it to be the same place. Its population was then estimated to
be 80,000— now it is 350,000. The population of New-York
was, at that time, about equal to that of Liverpool ; now New-
York has more than 500,000 people, exclusive of Brooklyn
and the other vicinal cities around the bay, which may add
150,000 or 200,000 more.
The houses of Liverpool cover a vastly more extended area
than in 1805, and they have every appearance of wealth and
comfort. There are many new and magnificent streets and
squares, and public buildings.
The Town Hall, St. George's Hall, the Harmonic Hall, the
Custom House, the Post Office, the Sailor's Home, the Exchange
and many other structures of hewn stone — which also is the
material of many of the more modern private dwellings, —
give the city an air of dignity and permanency.
The Town Hall is elegantly fitted up ; it contains all neces
sary public offices, and a spacious ball-room, with the appen
dages of drawing-room and supper-room. On the great stair
case is a beautiful statue of the Hon. George Canning, of
sarcastic memory, for many years a Member of Parliament for
Liverpool. His fling at the American National Flag as "a few
yards of striped bunting" probably exalted the heroism of those
who fought under it.
St. George's Hall is another splendid building, erected for
the courts, for concerts, balls, &c.
In these buildings there are many columns made of granite,
and of imitations of it so perfect that they can hardly be dis-

22 Liverpool in 1851.
tinguished from the true granite. Near the Town Hall is the
Exchange, a vast building, included in three sides of a square ;
it is thronged with the business men of this great emporium
of commerce. In the centre of its area is a grand monument,
to the memory of Lord Nelson, accompanied by the emblemat
ical figures of Death and Victory ; while on the pedestal his
battles are represented in relief.
The Exchange Building was begun in 1809, and includes all
the offices and accommodations necessary to commerce, and
the news-room contains, as is said, all the papers of the world.
The churches are numerous ; we were not here on the Sabbath,
and did not enter any of them. The Institution for the Blind,
which I visited in 1805, is now removed to a larger and better
building, and is in vigorous and useful operation. The blind
inmates make excellent baskets, cord, mats, &c. There is an
excellent Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, and there are
several hospitals and other charitable institutions.
The Botanic Garden and Athenaeum, which I saw in 1805,
are still cherished and sustained, and a Zoological Garden has
been introduced, which is furnished with many beautiful living
animals. St. James's Cemetery. — The large and deep stone quarry,
once near the city, which I saw and described in 1805, is now
included within the city, being converted into a Cemetery, and
is a beautiful and solemn place. Its walls are covered with
vines, and it is nearly filled with monuments of those who have
departed during the last 46 years. We descended into this ele
gant Necropolis, which is in the finest order ; the monuments
are in perfect preservation ; they are kept in a neat and decent
condition, and this deep-seated repository of the dead, sloping
upward and expanding in full daylight in the midst of a great
city, is an affecting sight ; it would be picturesque if it were
not so solemn.
The most interesting object to us was the tomb of Mr. Hus-

Liverpool in 1851. 23
kisson, the distinguished Member of Parliament from Liver
pool, who was killed at Parkside by a railroad engine, Sept. 15,
1830, in the presence of Lord Wellington, and other distin
guished men, who had convened to celebrate the completion of
the Liverpool and Manchester Railroad. Owing, it is said, to
a nervous excitability, he lost his self-possession, when, being
on the ground on the approach of the engine, he took the
wrong course, and lost his life by a fatal wound.
His tomb is a beautiful temple, and his statue stands in the
midst of it.
Near the Custom House there is a grand bronze statue of
Mr. Huskisson, cast at Munich, and presented by the widow of
the illustrious statesman.
There is also in Liverpool a large necropolis — " a spacious
burying-ground for persons of all denominations ; " it is on the
Brunswick road.
The Railroad Stations in Liverpool are excellent struc
tures. They are made of iron, and other incombustible materi
als, and are spacious, airy, lofty and elegant.
There is a tunnel connected with the London and North
west Railway Station, which runs through to Edge Hill, 2,230
yards, more than a mile and a quarter ; its breadth is 25 feet,
and its height 1 7 feet. Many railroads communicate directly
or indirectly with Liverpool, and have added immensely to its
commerce. The Streets are in the main extremely well paved, and
they are lighted by gas. The middle of the street is macada
mized in a manner truly admirable, and, this being the carriage
way, is so smooth and hard that the wheels roll over it with a
most agreeable motion, as on the floor of a house. One horse
will convey four or five, or even six persons in a large and
heavy carriage.
The Docks, as they were in 1805, were described in my
former work. Then there were few of them ; only six wet

24 Liverpool in 1851.
docks, and a few dry docks ; now they extend at least six miles
along the east bank of the Mersey, on which Liverpool is situ
ated, and they have been introduced also at Birkenhead, on the
opposite side of the river. The docks are the glory of Liver
pool ; they are rendered necessary by the tides of 12 to 30
feet, and large ships cannot remain in safety in the channel
of the river, unless it be far down in the offing. As we rode
along these splendid docks, mile after mile, we saw ships of all
flags and of all nations, and of every form of naval architec
ture, and with crews of all hues and costumes, and their
sailing boards on the shrouds, gave notice of their destination
for all parts of the world: India, Japan, Australia, both
Americas, &c. The wharves, too, were alive with all the land-
stir of commerce ; there were carts of all sizes and forms, loaded
with the merchandise of the world, but there was no crowding
and jostling, because there was room enough, and a good police
and civil manners made eveiy thing easy.
We admired much the massy gates and bridges connected
with the docks, and the great facility with which they were
moved. The system of docks both here and in London, is
without a parallel in the world.
The Landing-Stage. — This is an immense floating pier,
rendered necessary by the great variation between high and
low-water mark. It is 507 feet long, and 80 feet 7 inches
broad. It rests on 39 pontoons, sustaining a weight of 2000
tons ; it contains 49,000 cubic feet of wood, and cost 40,000
pounds. It was first moored in its present position June 1,
1847,* and we experienced the great convenience which it
affords. We have floating docks at New- York, but our tides
are inconsiderable compared with those of the Mersey.
Commerce of Liverpool. — This city is now said to be the
resort of more sea-going vessels than any port in the world,
* Guide to Liverpool.

Royal Institute. 25
and it is asserted that New-York is next ; I cannot vouch for
the correctness of this position. London has an immense num
ber of ships, and it may be safely asserted,- that these three
ports are, as regards ships and commerce, the leading ones of
the whole world.
At New- York, including the wharves on both the East and
North Rivers, the ships probably extend six miles, and at New
Orleans they reach nearly as far, including the river boats and
steamers; but the ships are not, in the two cases last named,
clustered together in such masses as are seen in the English
docks. Mobile has sometimes a fleet of 100 sail, chiefly foreign,
anchored 30 miles out in its bay, waiting for cotton, which is
brought off in tenders.

$0pl Institute.
This Institution was not in existence at the time of my
former visit, and we were much gratified with the contents of
these rooms.
They contain, chiefly, collections in Natural History in its
principal departments.
The Birds are very numerous, and put up in fine order
behind glass cases, which cover entirely all the sides of a large
room, and the cases are full.
There are two ostriches — an African, and an Asiatic— and
also a South American cassowary. Their feet are small, com
pared with those of the birds that made the impressions in the
red sandstone of the Connecticut river valley, or compared with
the actual feet of the Moa of New Zealand, an extinct bird,
whose other bones are in harmony with the feet. The dimensions
of the Moa (of which more hereafter) make every thing credible
Vol. l— %

26 Royal Institute.
which has been said and written respecting the fossil birds of
the valley of the Connecticut ; and it is thus proved that no
existing birds can compare, for colossal dimensions, with those
that formerly inhabited New Zealand, and, in early geological
ages, the valley of the Connecticut River.
In this collection, the family of humming-birds is fully re
presented, and their delicate forms are exquisitely exhibited.
The Crustacea are unrivalled in the perfection of their
figures and structure, the minutest and most delicate parts be
ing perfectly preserved, and there is a wonderful variety in
their dimensions, from those that are very small, size of a fin
ger nail, to those that would fill a large dinner plate ; gigan
tic, at least upon the common scale of the size of crabs — et
id omne genus.
Many of the Geological Specimens in the collection are
excellent. There is silicified wood in great masses — enormous
trunks of trees — from Australia. The impressions of Chirothe-
ria (animals with hands) are here in great perfection ; both the
impressions, i. e., the concave made by the pressure of the feet
of the animal in plastic materials— and also the convex or relief
made by the filling up ofthe concave. Of course, the animal could
have made only the concave or hollow, and the matter which
filled it up and made a convex form in relief, came in afterwards.
The Chirotherial impressions were first found at Heidel-
burghausen, in Germany, • but were afterwards discovered in
Scotland, and at the Storeton Quarry of Sandstone, near to
Liverpool, on the opposite side of the Mersey.
The largest that are there found, are of the size of the hand
of a mature man — as if he had pressed his hand upon soft and
yielding clay, which was still firm enough to retain the im
pression. These constitute a leading feature in the collection.
The impressions are very numerous at the Storeton Quarry,
especially the smaller ones, many of which are of the hind
feet ; and they are mixed with impressions made by other kinds

Royal Institute. 27
of animals, perhaps of tortoises — and there are also impressions
of vegetables. The opinion is entertained among geologists that the Chi-
rotherium (called also the Labyrinthodon, from the complex
involutions of the structure of the tooth), was a gigantic frog,
whose size was equal to that of the ox ; and if his vocal powers
were in proportion to those of his humbler representative of our
day — the bullfrog — he must have been a tremendous thunderer.
Bones have been discovered, supposed to belong to the Chi-
rotherium, and from these the inferences have been drawn
respecting the character of the animal that made the impres
sions. No doubt can be entertained that these animals, and
many others — tortoises, birds, and various reptiles — walked
or crawled upon the then soft and yielding material that now
forms our upper, or new red sandstone.
The Fossil Irish Elk, Megalocervus. — There is here
a very perfect pair of horns of the gigantic extinct Irish elk ;
they are attached to the head, which is small, and seems out
of all proportion to its vast appendages. We measured these
horns ; from tip to tip of the antlers was nine to ten feet, and
along the curve of both homs fifteen to eighteen feet. These
animals must have been, in past ages, very numerous in Ire
land and in some other countries. We saw many specimens
of these horns in the continental cabinets. Nothing of the
deer family now existing on earth, can compare for size and
noble mien with these magnificent animals, of which the last
may have been destroyed by the hand of man,* with whom it
is very possible that they may have been contemporary. As in
the case of other deer, the horns, enormous as they were, fell
off annually, and of course were as often renewed. They were
* Prof. Owen, at the Museum of the College of Surgeons, London,
said to us, that he gave no credit to the asserted associations of the
remains of the Irish elk with those of man, but Dr. Mantell thought
that their era might have reached the human.

28 Royal Institute.
peculiar to the male, in analogy with the habits of the family.
We saw entire skeletons in several museums on the Continent,
and therefore we are acquainted with the perfect form of the
animal, and are sure, from his organization, that his habits
were the same as those that characterize the race of deer at
the present time.
The Teleosaurus. — There is here a very perfect specimen
of this ancient fossil lizard, ages ago extinct, along with his fel
lows of the same family. The skeleton is six or seven feet long.
The Ichthyosaurus, or Fish Lizard. — There is here a
model of the cranium, in which the orbit of the eye would re
ceive the head of an infant.
Recent Saurians, or Lizards. — There are many speci
mens of those now living — alligators, &c.
The Hippopotamus.^-A very large stuffed specimen, and
the skeleton of a smaller individual of a different species.
There is also an immense seal, and there are many other inter
esting things which I cannot enumerate.
On the opposite side of the street, there is a collection in the
fine arts — but the picture gallery could be but very imperfectly
seen, as most of the. pictures were taken down to be cleaned.
There are also numerous casts of the Elgin marbles, and of
the most celebrated ancient statues — the Apollo of Belvidere,
Gladiators, Venus, &c, but they are all so blackened by coal
dust, that they have lost all their beauty.
Has Liverpool more smoke, or less care than London, where
there are many casts and statues that are kept clean ?
Miscellaneous. — Liverpool, as a place of trade and
wealth, is a modern town. It was anciently a small fishing
village, and has risen into consequence within a century and a
half. When ship money was levied in 1636, Liverpool paid 25
pounds — Lancaster, 30 — Chester, 26 — and Preston 40 pounds.
In 1650 Liverpool had 24 vessels of 460 tons, and navigated

Royal Institute. 29
by 76 seamen. The population of Liverpool was, in 1700,
only 5,000; in 1760, 26,000; in 1790, 56,000; in 1811,
94,376 ; now three to four hundred thousand. In 1709, the
slave trade began in Liverpool, and was zealously pursued for
a century. In 1805, 1 went on board of a new slave ship in Liverpool.
It was just finished, and had not then been employed. I went
below deck, and examined the narrow cells and the chains,
which were as yet unstained with blood, but they were all
ready for the victims which, no doubt, were found and trans
ported from Africa into slavery, in that very ship.
Our English friends, when they taunt us Americans on this
subject, should remember that they forced slavery upon us
when we were their colonies. George III., in 1774, disallowed
an act of the legislature of Virginia, prohibiting the slave trade,
because he said it " would be very injurious to the commerce
of His Majesty's subjects." * The reformation of the parent
is rather too recent to justify recrimination on the child, while
no justification of either can be sustained before God or man,
and so reports the grand moral inquest of the world.
Liverpool sustained the most vigorous and persevering op
position to the suppression of the slave trade, and this spirit
was in full activity in 1805, when I was there. At the table
of a very eminent gentleman, well known to fame, I heard the
efforts of Mr. Wilberforce on that subject decried, and it was
remarked that he was a very worthy man with good intentions,
but rather overdone with religion ; a charge which I did not
think could have been sustained against a convivial clergyman
— one of the party — whose tongue took rather a free license.
I have no disposition to upbraid Liverpool for its old sin
— the slave trade — rejoicing that it has been now many years
done away, as is the fact, also, with my own country, which has,
* I saw this rescript framed in the Athenseum of Philadelphia.

30 Royal Institute.
however, substituted a domestic slave trade, from the middle
slave States to the southern and south-western States, for which
we are justly reproached. I forbear from any discussion of the
great sin, shame, and danger of slavery, but I wish to recall the
fact of the Liverpool slave ship, which I mentioned in my early
work — and also the rescript of George III. — that I may temper
a little the severity of English recrimination. In the language
of our celebrated native singers — the Hutchinsons —
" Wait a little longer,
Better times a coming 1 "
The Mersey is 1J miles wide at its mouth, while, a few
miles above, it is seven miles wide. It presents a scene of great
animation. A long forest of masts lines its shores, and innu
merable boats and steamers are constantly plying upon its
waters. The view from the river and from the opposite shore exhi
bits Liverpool to great advantage, as it rises from the water by
a gentle ascent ending in hills ; and villas and other tasteful
mansions are seen all along the shores and upon the rising
grounds, and in the suburbs.
Light-houses and windmills are conspicuous objects in the
vicinity of Liverpool, and the English and Irish Channels lead
ing to this city are well lighted. Parties of pleasure make ex
cursions from Liverpool to places situated on the banks of the
Mersey ; but the steamers in which they embark, although
doubtless constructed with a leading view to safety, are not dis
tinguished for elegance. They are very plain, and do not pre
sent the showy appearance of the American steamers.
Concluding Remarks on Liverpool. — March 20. — Our three
days in Liverpool were very industriously employed in seeing
the city, and some of its principal lions. Good carriages and
excellent streets gave great facilities for locomotion ; and short

Royal Institute. 31
as the time was, it proved sufficient to stereotype this great and
opulent city in our minds, so that its lineaments will never be
effaced. To myself, who retained the most distinct recollection
of its aspect forty-six years ago, and could refer to my own record
of its appearance then, the present review was indeed most in
teresting ; and I have endeavored to describe some of the chan
ges that have intervened. They have been scarcely exceeded
by those of our Americau, unless we except some of the Western
cities. The population of Liverpool has been more than quad
rupled in less than half a century, and its buildings, public and
private, its fleets of merchant ships, the immense docks to receive
them, the commerce which they bring, and the wealth accumu
lated both by sea and by those great internal arteries of trade,
railroads and canals — all these and with them good Institutions
of every name, have increased in the same proportion, and the
city, which was once stigmatized by a wicked traffic, now holds
the proud pre-eminence of being the queen of lawful sea-going
commerce. Poverty in the midst of wealth. — It was painful to us
to observe that, in the midst of the splendor of Liverpool, there
are the most distressing marks of poverty. In front of our
hotel there was a large concourse of people, from early morn
ing, to attend on a market day. Among them, although the
weather was still quite cold, there were many children and girls
without stockings or shoes, and their clothes so tattered and
scanty, that neither comfort nor decency could be consulted.
Hardly did we see in Italy and Naples more revolting objectsj
or those whose claims for charity appeared more urgent. The
English are a wise and humane people, and spare neither money
nor effort in providing for the claims of humanity ; but, although
disposed to view this subject candidly, I have not been able to
learn why these sufferers are not provided for, if deserving of
charity, or not subjected to confinement, and a wholesome dis
cipline, if they are shiftless, because they are worthless. Perhaps

32 Departure from Liverpool.
Ireland, as indeed we are assured, contributes largely to this
mendicity; probably New-York, if examined, would present
spectacles as revolting as those which we saw in Liverpool ; and
it is certain that the flood of emigration to the United States,
probably an average of 1000 persons in a day, must add, among
many worthy, many more of the reckless and forlorn to our
population.

$*prta» from fikxpal
March 20.
An Incident. — Our party leaving Liverpool for the present,
took passage at 10 o'clock, a. m., in a steam ferry-boat, to cross
the Mersey, and we were soon landed in the opposite village of
Birkenhead. In this short time we formed an acquaintance
with an intelligent and gentlemanly man in the evening of life.
Casual remarks and inquiries on our part, were courteously at-
tended to by him, and we interchanged our cards. The inter
est which he manifested in us as Americans, was doubtless
increased by his having a son in our country. We informed
him of our proposed route, and of the day when we expected
to be in Birmingham, a few miles from which city was his res
idence. He volunteered to call on us, and to show us the town,
but we had to regret that our prolonged stay in Wales deprived
us of the pleasure of meeting Dr. G  again, for we found
that he had called punctually at our hotel. The incident, in
itself of little importance, is creditable to English manners. We
were trusted on our word, by this gentleman, who was a sur
geon, and had served in the English Navy.
Ride to Chester.— On landing, we found the railroad cars
ready. There are here no long cars, as with us. Those of
the first class are divided into separate coaches, each having
two seats to contain six people ; the seats are divided by low

Chester. 33
sides, and have leaning places for *he arms and for the head,
to favor sleep; three large easy chairs, placed side by side,
would resemble the arrangement in these cars. We managed
to receive our party of seven into one coach, and rode very
comfortably and sociably. The country through which we
travelled was beautiful ; the fields were green and highly cul
tivated ; the buildings were good, and there was, in the rural
scenes, no appearance of poverty.

We were soon at Chester, and in the city and its vicinity,
being busily employed, we lingered until six in the evening.
This town is venerable on account of its high antiquity, as
it was coeval with the British, Roman, and Saxon times. It was
long a Roman^station, and is still inclosed completely by a wall,
which is two miles in circuit ; it is constructed of hewn stone,
to the height of 20 feet, and several of the towers remain.
We ascended one of these, the Phoenix, from which Charles I.,
in September, 1645, was a spectator of a battle, in which his
troops were defeated at Marston Moor, or Waverton Heath,
by the forces of the Parliament.
Chester was loyal ; it bravely sustained a siege of five
months in the year 1647, and was finally reduced by famine
and distress. In two months, more than 2000 of the inhabit
ants died from the pressure of the siege. It was civil war —
brethren fighting against each other.
The walls of Chester are still entire, and our walk upon them
gave us fine views of a very beautiful country ; the river Dee,
on which Chester stands, was at our feet, and the distant moun
tains of Wales on the northwest rose in misty grandeur.
The town contains 25,000 inhabitants, the population being
Vol. 1.— 2*

34 Chester.
about that of our New Haven, but being inclosed within walls,
it covers a much smaller area. It is, in general, well built ;
there are many modem houses, but most of them are in the old
English style, and afford us interesting information as to the
accommodations of the people, in centuries long past. The
appearance is venerable ; it is grotesque, and in general highly
unarchitectural. The four gates of the city are on the site of
the ancient Roman portals, and we ride into it under arches,
that bestride the streets.
Five Roman roads come to a centre here, and now five
principal railways have their terminus in Chester.
The streets, corresponding to the modern gateways, run at
right angles north and south. They were originally sunk by
excavation far below the level of the ground, and the people
crossed on arches. Although the ancient deep cutting is half
filled up, we still, as we walk on the ground, see the people in
their houses above the level of the street, although they are on
what would usually be called the ground floor.
The front of the houses in the lower story recedes, so as to
present a continued portico, or piazza — a covered walk, through
which the people freely pass, as in the streets of other towns.
Still farther in and below are the shops, and the actual fronts
of the dwelling houses give an air of freedom and sociability,
very much in contrast with the closed doors and latticed and
curtained windows of most other cities.
It was amusing to us to walk along this covered and ele
vated thoroughfare, mingling with the people, and to pass from
it familiarly into the open doors of the contiguous shops,
situated beneath the second story of the houses, which project
over them. Thus, in those parts of the town where this ancient
arrangement is preserved, the pedestrians are completely pro
tected from the weather.
We afterwards saw a similar structure in Berne, and in
Bologna.

Chester. 35
Chester contains many relics of the Romans. The twen
tieth legion garrisoned Chester in the year 61 of Christ. Its
name, ' from the Latin castrum (camp), recalls its Roman
origin. Roman altars, coins, pottery, tiles with Roman stamps,
tesselated pavements, baths and catacombs, attest a long posses
sion of Chester by the Romans. It was evidently regarded by
them as an important station.
Roman Bath. — Beneath the Feather Inn we entered, as
through a cellar, into an excavation in the solid rock ; it was
supported by short pillars, and the place was so low that we
were obliged to stoop in order to enter ; the floor is still occu
pied by water, and there is a sudatory above, into which steam
or heated air passed through holes in the vault of the lower
room, where the heat was raised. The place which we saw
was narrow and low, confined and disagreeable, and strongly
contrasted with the luxurious baths, whose splendid ruins we
afterwards saw in Rome.
A Crypt, of unknown antiquity, is on the opposite side of
the street. We entered it through an underground room,
which was occupied as a shop.
The Crypt is 45 feet long, 15$ broad, and 11 high. It
was a place of worship, as appears from a baptismal font of
marble at the remote end of the room. It is in the Gothic
style, but with round arches, and is in high preservation. It
was a- monastic building.
The Ancient Abbey and Cathedral. — We visited the
ancient Cathedral and Abbey, objects of extreme interest to
our party, none of whom, myself excepted, had ever seen such
buildings. The Cathedral is 372 feet long on the outside,
350 within ; height of the ceiling 73 feet, and of the towei
127. It has a fine organ, and numerous sepulchral monu
ments ; its cloisters are deservedly celebrated.
Among the images, some had lost their heads by violence
or wantonness, and an unskilful mason repaired them with so

II
36 Chester.
little tact that a King's head was placed upon a queen's shoul
der, and the reverse, and a monarch crowned the bust of a vir
gin. These structures are extremely venerable from age, and
association with gone by centuries; and perhaps our veneration
is increased by the state of dilapidation in which they now
exist. They and other ancient buildings in Chester were con
structed of a deep-colored red sandstone, which exists in this
part of England ; it is the upper red belonging to the salt for
mation, and exfoliates in the weather, so that most of the or
namental carved work on the Cathedral and in the cloisters,
especially that on the exterior, is defaced, or utterly ruined ;
many of the prominent parts have fallen off.
Miscellaneous. — Probably no city in England presents
such striking proofs of antiquity as Chester. It is so identified
with antiquity, that while there we can easily imagine our
selves cotemporary with the Romans, with the Britons, and the
Saxons. Chester was formerly a place of great trade, long before
Liverpool had even a name to live ; but the filling up of the
channel of the Dee with sand, and the rivalry of Liverpool,
have caused it to decline. Chester exhibits in its bill of mor
tality decisive proof of the salubrity of its position. The deaths
are annually 1 in 40, while Liverpool loses 1 in 27J, Man
chester 1 in 28, Edinburgh 1 in 20, London 1 in 20J ; New
Haven, in Connecticut, loses 1 in 55.
Anecdote. — It is recorded that a. d. 1558, Henry Cole,
Dean of St. Paul's, stopped at Chester on his way to Ireland,
commissioned by Queen Mary to persecute the Protestants, and
exultingly showed his commission, which he replaced in his
bag ; but as soon as he left the room the good lady of the
house took out the commission, and replaced it with a pack of
cards, with the knave of clubs uppermost ; of course the Dean
made a ridiculous figure when he opened his supposed commis
sion at Dublin, in presence of the dignitaries ; and before a

Excursion to Eaton Hall. 37
new one could be obtained, happily for the Protestants, the
persecuting Mary breathed her last.*

(toman to iaton fall,
The Palace of the Marquess of Westminster.
This splendid establishment is four miles from Chester, and
our party drove to it in two cabs or flys, as they are often
called here ; they were large and heavy, far more so than our
light vehicles in America. These English carriages, being
well cushioned on all sides, and lighted by large glass windows,
are both very agreeable and comfortable. As before remarked,
in Liverpool they place four persons in them, and occasionally
there is, as was the case to-day, an extra man on the box with
the coachman. The carriage took six persons with one horse.
They work their horses much harder than we do in America.
The climate being more temperate, perhaps the horses are
more hardy.
The Castle. — We passed out of the city by the castle, the
ancient seat of the Earls of Chester. It was originally built
by William the Conqueror. The old castle was removed near
the close of the last century, and the present grand edifice was
erected ; it is Grecian — -is 103 feet long and 35 broad, and is
surrounded by a fosse, 13 feet deep, cased with hewn stone.
Most of the buildings connected with the castle are massy
and grand, and are in modern style. A garrison of some hun
dreds of soldiers is stationed there, and they were on parade
to-day, as we drove by, presenting the usual brilliant appear
ance of British troops. * Guide to Chester.

38 Excursion to Eaton Hall.
The Race Ground, called Roodee.— This ground, cov
ering 84 acres of rich meadow land, lies contiguous to the
road. It is a beautiful natural amphitheatre, in a deep depres
sion, surrounded by hills, by the city walls, and the river Dee,
in the form of a bow arching outward.
The exterior circle, in which the horses run, is one mile and
a half to two miles in circumference, and is separated from the
general area within by a low circular mound of earth. The
English gentry are very fond of the turf, and this is said to
be second to none in the kingdom. In 1848, 156 horses were
entered for the tradesman's cup, and 106 accepted, being the
largest number ever known for one race, here or elsewhere.
Thirty-four horses started for the rich prize, which was won
by a horse called Peep-o'day Boy ; he swept the stakes,
amounting to 2,500 pounds,* more than 12,000 dollars.
Eaton Hall, the seat of the Marquis of Westmin
ster. — Passing the race ground, we soon arrived at the portal
of the domain of the Marquis of Westminster, two or three
miles from the palace.
As we drove up to the gate, an elderly man, of very respec
table appearance, presented himself, and we asked permission
to drive into the park. He civilly replied that it was not,
at present, permitted, as the mansion was undergoing repairs.
But upon my telling him that we had come from a far dis
tant country, America, that we were in pursuit of knowledge,
that this was our occupation at home, and was our sole ob
ject in Europe, he added, in a courteous manner, that, as wc
had come so far, we should pass. We drove on, mile after
mile, before we reached the magnificent mansion. Through
much of the territory every thing, except the road, and some
occasional spaces, was in an unsubdued state, as much so as in
an American wild, where the first forest had been cleared away,
* Guide to Chester.

Excursion to Eaton Hall. 39
and a new growth of smaller trees had arisen spontaneously.
Perhaps this half-wilderness appearance was the result of de
sign, for on both sides, beyond this double row of woods, there
was a parallel extent of subdued and cultivated land, smooth
with green sward, and on these fields, as well as in other parts
of the vast territory, there were innumerable herds of deer
grazing quietly, along with flocks of sheep, and they were not,
any more than the latter, disturbed by our approach. Arrived
at the mansion, we were very civilly conducted through the ex
tensive conservatories and fruit gardens, wnich we found to be
highly interesting and instructive. There were many flower
ing shrubs and plants, both exotic and native, in the warm
glass houses ; one was devoted to pine-apples, which were in
healthful progress, and some of them were beginning to put
forth fruit.
The orchidese were numerous and flourishing. Being
parasite plants of many species, they were growing in connec
tion with suspended pieces of trees, and were depending from
pots and from bunches of moss and peat. In the conservato
ries there was a beautiful contrivance for opening and shutting
the glass, all at one movement and by a single effort of the
nand. There is a very extensive provision for wall fruit. Large
areas, which might be called fields, are inclosed by high brick
walls, upon which are trained, in the most beautiful manner,
peach trees, pears, and I believe apricots, branching out like
rays of light from a focus, and extending to a surprising length
— so that, in some places, the branches would mount above
the wall, were they not bent and made to take another and
lower direction. It is thus, that here in England, in more than
53° of north latitude, six degrees north of Quebec, and even
as high as Hudson's Bay, tropical fruits are matured in perfec
tion, and those of our American climates are reared to a sur
prising degree of excellence. I remember that when I was in

40 Excursion to Eaton Hall.
this country before, I tasted at a dinner in London, the most
delicious pine-apple that I had ever seen, and it was the pro
duction of an English hot-house.
The territory around the mansion was muddy, as there is
in this climate much rain from the condensed vapor of the
Atlantic, and our walks through the grounds were on that ac
count rather inconvenient. The 20th of March, too, is rather
an early day to expect dry ground in any northern climate,
either in Europe or America. Even at the vernal equinox,
and in this high latitude, the grass is of a rich green, the
shrubs and smaller trees are in leaf, of this season's growth,
and many more are in flower in the open air.
And now, what shall I say of this immense and magnificent
mansion, built in the style of the modern Gothic, with numer
ous turrets, pinnacles, and towers. I have no tables of its
dimensions, but presume that, with the offices, it cannot be less
than 400 feet long. Drawings and pictures are necessary to
make the elevation intelligible.
This palace, for it well deserves that name, is both grand
and beautiful. The main front looks east towards the Dee,
which flows through the territory ; and the grounds slope
downward from the mansion towards the river. They are laid
out in ornamental forms, and are in good progress towards per
fection, although there is still much to be done. It is obvious
that when finished, covered by rich verdure, and decorated
with the usual embellishments of English gardening, these
grounds will be worthy of the palace which they surround and
adorn. Urns, embossed with raised figures, are distributed
here and there, and a small temple covers a Roman altar, dug
up at Chester.
It is a square pillar of red sandstone, about five feet high,
18 or 20 inches in diameter, and the top is scooped out
like a dish, probably to contain the things offered in sacri
fice.

Excursion to Eaton Hall. 41
The Latin inscription on the side is perfectly legible. The
altar is inscribed to the Nymphs and the Fountains, by the
Twentieth Legion. "Nymphis et Fontibus Leg. xx — w" —
with the modest addition — " the victorious and invincible."
Eaton Hall being now occupied by artists and workmen,
who are finishing and fitting up the apartments, we could not
be admitted into the interior — but through the magnificent
windows, which we were allowed to approach, we could see
such apartments as were lighted by them. The furniture is
removed, and we could catch only glimpses of grandeur and
gorgeous embellishment. The front windows are very lofty,
and adorned by painted glass ; their cost was enormous. Eaton
Hall is warmed uniformly by the circulation of hot water in
tubes. At the opposite ends of the vast portico, stand two large
marble statues ; one is an undraped female, and the other a
knight in full armor. This villa is, I believe, not surpassed in
magnificence by any one in England, and its noble master is
said to be only the second in opulence — yielding, I presume, in
this respect, to the Duke Of Northumberland. The late Marquis
of Westminster stood godfather to Queen Victoria at her coro
nation, and her eldest son, the Prince of Wales, is also Earl of
Chester. We had to regret that it was impossible to obtain
access to the library room, which is the largest and most mag
nificent apartment in the house, and contains a valuable collec
tion of books and manuscripts.
There is here, beneath a glass case, a Torques — " a collar
or chain of gold and silver, given by the Romans to soldiers
who had distinguished themselves ; they were wreathed with
great beauty, and worn around the neck." * It is conjectured
that this ornament might have belonged to Queen Boadicea, as
it was found on the ground between Caerwys and Newmarket
* Craig's Universal Dictionary.

42 Excursion in Wales.
in Flintshire, where it is supposed a decisive battle between
Agricola and Boadicea took place, in which the latter lost
10,000 men. An unhewn stone is believed to designate the-
grave of Boadicea.

titetmsiw m WkUl
Conway Castle. — We returned to Chester in time for the
evening train to Bangor. We passed the magnificent ruin
of Conway Castle ; even in the twilight it was very grand in
its hoary antiquity.
The following notices of it I derive from the Cambrian
Mirror :
Conway was surrounded by lofty walls, with a circuit of a
mile and a quarter, in which distance there are twenty-one
strong towers, and at each of the three entrances to the town
there are two more, still stronger.
The castle stands on a bold, projecting promontory. The
external line of the fortifications contains eight lofty towers,
each crowned with a slender, elegant turret. The grand hall
was 130 feet long, and 30 wide — the roof being supported by
eight noble arches, four of which still remain. The view from
the top of the battlements is most imposing, and it is a grand
and solemn ruin. Tennant, in his Picturesque Tour, says — " a
more beautiful fortress never arose. It is a castle of matchless
magnificence." It was used as a fortress nearly 400 years. When garri
soned by Charles L, it was taken by the Parliament forces,
Nov. 6, 1646. The castle being granted to the Earl of Con
way, he despoiled it of its iron, lead, timber, &c, to be trans
ported to Ireland, but as a just retribution for his avarice and
sacrilegious spoliation, the vessel was wrecked, and all the plun-

Excursion in Wales. 43
dered treasures were lost. Although we were not able to visit
Conway, we saw enough, in our rapid transit, to justify the
preceding citations, and to fill us with regret that we could not
arrest the flight of the train, and wander over this stupendous
ruin, one of the great works of Edward I., constructed to se
cure the submission of Wales. We were soon, however, to
receive compensation, by the view of another castle, still more
magnificent. Bangor Station, March 21, 1851. — The George, House
of Mrs. Roberts.
It was quite dark when we arrived at the station, where an
omnibus was waiting to carry us a mile and a half to the
George, the well-known inn of Mrs. Roberts. This lady, in the
active period of life, and being evidently a capital manager,
deserves honorable mention. Our large party were promptly
accommodated with apartments. Our bedrooms were clean
and well-furnished, while a neat parlor, a blazing hearth, and
comfortable repast, gave us that feeling of home which comes
naturally over the traveller, when his day's work being done,
he seeks repose and comfort, and finds them, as we did now,
accompanied by a frank and kind reception, as if we were vis
iting friends, who were entitled to be received with cordiality.
Menai Strait. — Morning broke upon us in a beautiful
rural retirement ; country scenes surround the George Hotel,
and the front of the house looks out upon the Menai Strait,
which separates Wales from the Isle of Anglesea. It is to the
eye a beautiful river, half a mile wide ; the tide rises 20 to 25
feet, and through this narrow strait it rushes with great rapidity.
Posting. — As we were now out of the track of railroads,
and were about to make a circuitous ride among the mountains
of North Wales, we found it necessary to travel post, and Mrs.
Roberts promptly arranged our equipment, which was a coach
and four horses, with two postilions — one for each pair of
horses. The carriage was good, the horses active and well-

44 Excursion in Wales.
trained, and the postilions vigilant and civil. They were
dressed in blue short jackets, white corduroy breeches, and
white top boots, with spurs.
The Bridges.— Our principal object in travelling to Ban
gor was to see the two famous bridges, the Suspension Bridge,
and the Tubular Bridge, both over the Menai Strait, to con
nect the Island of Anglesea with Wales.
Both these bridges are in sight from the George Hotel, and
in sight of each other, and the Suspension Bridge is very near
to the Hotel.
The Suspension Bridge. — While our party were arrang
ing their affairs, I went forward with my son to the Suspension
Bridge, and walked upon it a distance sufficient to enable us to
observe its structure. When it was finished in 1825-6, it was
deservedly esteemed one of the wonders of the world, and it is
still entitled to hold that rank. It is indeed a stupendous
structure, of which the full details may be learned from the
official reports ; the following are among the principal facts :
It is 100 feet above the water, so that the ships, even those of
the largest class, are not impeded, and can pass under it with
out lowering a sail or a spar. The bridge is built out upon
arches from both sides of the river, to a certain distance, leav
ing the space between the points of suspension 560 feet. The
platform is about 30 feet wide. " The whole is suspended from
four lines of strong iron cables, by perpendicular iron rods, five
feet apart. The cables pass over rollers, on the tops of pillars,
and are- fixed to iron frames under ground, which are kept
down by masonry. The weight of the whole bridge between
the points of suspension is 489 tons."
The massy materials of which this bridge is composed — the
admirable manner in which they are locked together — the
great elevation at which it crosses this grand strait — its persist
ence without sign of failure during more than a quarter of a
'¦entury — its importance, as a connecting link between England

Excursion in Wales. 45
and Ireland, and the result of this early effort to conquer for
midable physical difficulties, fill the beholder with admiration
and delight, and do lasting honor to Mr. Telford, the distin
guished architect.
The Tubular Bridge. — This structure, one mile S. E. of
the other, is still more wonderful. To construct a vast tube
of iron, strong enough to admit of railroad trains passing safely
through it — to build it in separate pieces down on the common
level, to float them to the site, and raise the pieces to an ele
vation of 100 feet — place them upon firm pillars of masonry
as supports, and then to unite them into one continued tube
as a part of a grand railroad connection, between London and
Holyhead and Ireland, is an achievement which must for ever
place the name of Robert Stevenson above all praise.
From our carriage we had a distinct view of this magnifi
cent structure as we passed very near it, but a driving rain
storm, which came up suddenly, prevented our going into it, as
we did into the other. The following statements I copy from
drawings and plans of the bridge that lie before me.
Length of long tubes, 460 feet each.
Weight of " " 1800 tons.
Weight of iron in the tubes, 10,000 tons.
Length of short tubes, 230 feet each.
Weight of " " 700 tons each.
Total numbers of rivets, 2,000,000.
Total length of the bridge, 1,834 feet.
Width of each of the centre spaces, 460 feet.
Height of rails above high water, 104 feet.
Height of the Britannia Tower, 221 feet.
An enormous weight of between three and four hundred
thousand pounds caused a depression of the level only three
inches. Tl^ ordinary pressure of the railroad trains produces
a depression of one-eighth of an inch, or less, discernible only

46 Excursion in Wales.
by instruments. A pressure of more than 600,000 pounds
produced a deflection of 1.47 inch.
As works of art, these bridges are triumphs of mechanical
skill and science, and they not only establish the connection
which has been named between Wales, Anglesea and Ireland,
but they afford the prospect of a still more important connec
tion, from Galway, in Ireland, to Nova Scotia, by steamers, thus
bringing Europe and America within a week of each other.
The most massy stone pier, the Britannia, was erected upon
a firm rock which is in the middle of the river. The term
tube may convey an erroneous idea ; instead of being round, it
is square. It is an immense iron corridor, or parallelopiped
closed in, forming a horizontal iron gallery, or passage in which
the rails are laid. It is 30 feet high in the middle, and 22 feet
towards the ends. This stupendous structure proves to be a
very delicate thermometer. A little sunshine raises the centre
an inch (as the expansion cannot extend downwards), and pro
duces a horizontal deflection or swelling of an inch and a half.
For every 1'5 degrees of Fahrenheit it expands 0001 or T(,\rs
of its length, or half an inch. Alternate sunshine and showers
of rain cause the tubes to expand and contract. If one of the
tubes was placed on end in St. Paul's Churchyard, London, it
would rise 107 feet higher than the top of the cross. (Cambrian
Mirror.)* The rivets that unite the plates are an inch in diam
eter ; they are put in red hot, and beaten with heavy hammers,
and in cooling, they contract so strongly as to draw the plates
together with a force that requires four to six tons to make
them slide on each other. The tubes were raised from their
position afloat on the water, by means of a Brahmah hydraulic
press, into which the water was injected by powerful steam en-

The force exerted by this power would throw water nearly
* For all the important details, this valuable Tourift's Companion
in North Wales, may be consulted.

Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis. 47
20,000 feet high ; more than five times the height of Snowdon,
the highest mountain in Wales, and almost 5000 feet higher
than the summit of Mont Blanc. The greatest number of
men employed at any one time on this bridge was 2000, and
the fatal casualties were seven. The second tube was floated
to its place Dec. 4, 1 849, and the opening of the bridge by
the passage of cars took place March 5, 1850. It may be de
flected 13 inches without injury, and would bear a weight of
1000 tons.

%\k to tenwbmt irafo f Mkxu.
While we were looking at the Suspension Bridge our car
riage came up, the horses in fine spirits, and our young friends
delighted with the position which they had all taken on the
top of the coach ; the baggage (not a small amount) being
placed inside, and serving as ballast. Having been accustomed,
when in Britain before, to take this giddy seat, I did not hesi
tate to join my younger friends ; and now we were anticipating
much pleasure from the fine views of scenery in a bold, pic
turesque and beautiful country ; but we had not long enjoyed
our exalted position, nor proceeded many miles when a tem
pest of black clouds, gusts of wind, and powerful showers of
cold rain dissipated our romance, and for myself, I retired
among the baggage, while the rest of the party, including the
ladies (who are wont to be brave on such occasions), rode out
the storm ; but we were all glad to take refuge for a short
time in a cottage by the roadside, until some adjustments of
apparel could be made.
The climate is eminently fickle, and before our day's ride
was through we encountered squalls of rain and hail, while a
wintry wind descended ice-cold from Snowdon, and the moun
tains of that group, which were covered with snow.

48 Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis.
The western side of the British Islands receiving the aque
ous vapor blown by the prevailing westerly winds from the
Atlantic Ocean, and having high, and of course cold mountains,
the vapors are condensed, and fall in rain, hail and snow.
Caernarvon and its Castle.— Nine miles brought us to
the ancient town of Caernarvon, where we stopped to dine.
While dinner was preparing, we visited the Castle, founded by
that stern warrior, Edward I., the conqueror of Wales, and
finished by his son, Edward II. Like Conway Castle, and
other strongholds in various parts of the principality, it was
built as a part of the means of preserving the English domin
ion over a brave but subjugated people.
It is a stupendous ruin, and even now, after lapse of almost
600 years, it is magnificent and imposing beyond any thing
that exists in Britain, and perhaps in any other country.
Sketches may be obtained in the village, which will convey a
tolerable idea of its present condition ; but to obtain a full im
pression of its grandeur, it must be seen. Its material is lime
stone, and the arches and windows are of sandstone.
The works cover three acres of ground. The walls are
from eight to ten feet thick, and they include a gallery or cov
ered way, with loop-holes for the discharge of arrows. Nu
merous towers crown the walls. They have five, six and eight
sides. The largest is called the Eagle Tower, and it has three
beautiful, turrets. This we ascended, and from it we enjoyed
a grand prospect over the Menai Strait and the Island of An
glesea and Wales, with its mountains. We ascended several
of the towers by spiral stairs of stone ; the hollows worn in
them by human feet bear witness to their antiquity, and to
the full garrisons which have occupied this strong fortress;
strong against the means of attack before the invention of
cannon. All are gone down to the grave ; architects, builders, assail
ants and defenders, and the generals ^and monarchs by whom

Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis. 49
their action was stimulated. There are a multitude of apart
ments, and excepting roofs and floors, they are in such a state
of preservation as to evince that the work was thoroughly done.
Having been constructed 200 years before the invention of
gunpowder, there are no embrasures for cannon, but the loop
holes for arrows might serve equally well for musketry.
The well is still perfect and abundantly filled with water ;
the holes and passages for lead tubes to convey the water are
visible, and portions of the metal are still in place, although
cupidity has taken most of it away.
Reputed Birthplace of Edward H — We visited the
room where Edward H. is said to have been born, and at the
opposite end of the castle is the gate called that of Queen
Eleanor, because tradition says that she entered there previously
to her confinement, which her husband was solicitous to have
happen in Wales, and in this castle, that the Welsh might be
more contented under a native-born prince. The room said to
have been signalized by that event, is in the Eagle Tower, and
like that in which James VI. of Scotland, and I. of England, was
born in the Castle of Edinburgh, is small, although it might
have been comfortable.
Recent investigations have, however, proved that the room
assigned as the place of Edward's birth, could not have been
the real one, for that tower in which it is, was not then built ;
but it is not improbable that the event might have happened in
some other apartment in the castle. April 25, 1284, was the
birthday. This castle was at times the residence of the court, and the
great rooms of state still show their walls little impaired by
time, for the stone work in the interior, away from the weather,
is, in general, very perfect. The grand entrance to the Castle
was beneath a massy and lofty arch, in which are still visible
the traces of the grooves of four portcullis, while some of the
staples for the hinges, and.the fastenings of iron, remain.
Vol. l— 8

50 Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis.
The castle is uninhabited, except by the family, who act as
attendants to visitors, and their head, a veteran in the English
wars, entertained me with stirring incidents of his perilous life.
We looked into the dungeon, a horrible pit, which is 80
feet deep, dark, damp and dreary in the extreme; a place
where mercy seems never to have entered.
The castle has been taken and retaken several times, in dif
ferent wars, and has been used as a place of confinement for
state prisoners. Its broken walls are festooned with ivy; as
we walked among them, the winds howled mournfully through
the empty halls and towers, while the rooks, now undisputed
tenants of this seat of ancient strength and grandeur, scaled
unconsciously around, flapping their sable wings and disturbing
the air with their discordant notes.
The town of Caernarvon was formerly an important place,
and is still a port of some consequence on the Menai Strait. It
contains about 5000 inhabitants, and is a favorite resort for
tourists and lovers of rural scenes ; a resort which is much in
creased since the construction of the great bridges.
There were many other Castles in Wales ; a people so brave
and possessing a country having such formidable natural de
fences, were subdued and retained in subjection only with ex
treme difficulty.
In the vicinity of Caernarvon was a famous military station
of the Romans, called Saguntum.
From scenes connected with ancient wars, although in
vested with a pensive but romantic interest, we gladly turned
to the scenes of nature, ever delightful and ever new.
Ride to Llanberis, from Caernarvon Castle (a name which
we can never hear without interesting recollections) ; we pur
sued our journey through a charming country to Llanberis.
The scenery was, in the early part of the ride, mild and very
beautiful. The fields were highly cultivated ; green hedgerows
attended us nearly all the way, and the roads were excellent.

Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis. 51
As we advanced, however, stone walls began to appear, often
covered with turf; distant mountains were invested with clouds
alternately rolling up their sides in thick volumes of condensed
vapor, or flitting over their tops and borne off by the wind,
while snow appeared here and there upon the peaks and ridges.
The air remained very cold, but the greater number of our
party preferred remaining upon the top of the coach, to enjoy
the sublime view of the Welsh mountains, the Alps of Great
Britain. As evening approached, and we continued to travel onward
upon a road still excellent, it was narrowed by mountains, clo
sing in both sides with precipitous cliffs ; we wound along the
beautiful mountain lake of Llanberis, only 2 or 3 miles long,
and half a mile wide, with its crystal water, in many places
150 yards deep; and its narrow and tortuous sheet, ending in
a rivulet of discharge, attended us to the end of our day's
journey. There are two contiguous lakes at Llanberis ; both
together are hardly equal in extent to Saltonstall's lake, near
New Haven, in Connecticut, and the latter wants only the
Welsh mountains near it instead of the trap-hills, to be equally
romantic, for it has long been a favorite resort both for the
beauty of the scenery and for the fishing.
Near the end of our ride, the road was in some places
built up with stone walls from the edge of the lake of Llan
beris, and piles of rude rocky cliffs confined it to a single
track, merely wide enough for two carriages to pass each
other. Stone walls which had been growing prevalent, now
become exclusive, hedgerows having disappeared. The aspect
was in this respect like that of New England, although it was
more rude and forbidding than any thing of the kind I have
ever seen in any part of my native country.
The cultivated land diminished in extent as the rocks and
mountains increased, but all available places, even up the slopes
of the mountains, were either in grass or under cultivation.

52 Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis.
White houses and cottages decorated the slopes of the hills,
and it is not obvious to the traveller how the people can sub
sist in such a country ; but I suppose the problem is solved by
the immense slate quarries, in the midst of which we have
now arrived.
Quarry of Slate. — Welsh slate is famous all the world
over, and we visited a quarry near our hotel, where the slate
is extracted from the sides of. the mountain. Here 2000 men
were employed in blasting, splitting, selecting and transporting
the slates. As the successive blasts (and they occur fre
quently) were let off,* the reports were reverberated from
mountain to mountain, echo adding to their number, until
they died away in the distance. The sides are covered by im
mense piles of broken and refuse slates, rising almost to their
summits ; the mountains appear to be 2000 feet or more in
height, and as the ruins rise, at a high angle of elevation,
probably often 45 degrees, the slates, moved not only by
gravity, but by the concussion produced by the blasts, fre
quently slide down with a peculiar rustling noise. The slopes
are divided by flat terraces, on which the slates are moved upon
rails, in hand cars, which transport them to a slide, and down
this they are conveyed by a stationary steam engine, that al
lows them to descend at a regulated speed, and thus the brittle
slates are landed safely below, without fracture. Here they
are received on railroad cars, and are transported by locomo
tives, puffing and snorting along the mountain passes, 8 or 10
miles, to Caernarvon, for exportation from that port on the
Menai Strait.
It is said that the income of these quarries is one hundred
thousand pounds per annum; thus they are mountains of
* A horn, once in 20 or 30 minutes, gives notice to the workmen
to retreat to their coverts, and another horn recalls them to their
work; thus the fatal accidents, which were formerly freqxient, are
prevented.

Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis. 53
wealth, more valuable than the gold mines of California and
Australia. The use of slate in architecture, and the arts, has
greatly extended of late years ; large and massive pieces being
wrought into billiard tables, bathing and washing structures,
ornamented mantle-pieces, &c, as all will remember who wit
nessed the great Exhibition in London.
There is another slate quarry at Penryn, near Bangor,
which employs 2500 men, and 250 tons of slate are shipped
daily, at a port six miles distant. In Wales, the slate is appro
priated to various economical uses besides roofing. It is
wrought into chimney pieces and columns, and resembles black
marble, without its polish ; inkstands, also, and various utensils
are made from it; and it is employed in large sheets to cover
the sides of houses. The hotel where we lodged, was covered
in that manner, and the pillars of the house were constructed
of it. Slate is the great staple of this region ; its bleak mountains
will for ever afford an inexhaustible supply. Their dark frown
ing precipices give a bold and picturesque outline to the land
scape, and the mountains that are quarried for slates, exca
vated, as they are, by incessant blasting and splitting of their
solid strata, present a scene of ruins peculiarly wild, and in
vested with a gloomy grandeur. This appearance was partic
ularly impressive as evening twilight began to curtain in obscu
rity, the lofty slate mountain near the lake of Llanberis ; its
dark top rising above its wounded sides, formed a bold relief
against the distant sky, while its shaded quarries, wild and
dark, resounded with explosions that shattered still more its
eviscerated bowels, and threw out clouds of smoke into the air.
Geological Character of the Welsh Slate. — In the
language of former days, it would be called primary slate, and
to the eye, it appears like the slate of the Woodbridge Hills,
near New HaveD — like that of Dummerston, in Vermont, and
Bangor, in Maine. No great confidence is, however, any

64 Ride to Caernarvon and Llanberis.
longer reposed in those earlier divisions, except as simply im
plying a chronological order. Like the slates in the American
localities just cited, these in Wales abound with veins of quartz
and with epidote. It is probable that the division of the slate,
both in the laminae parallel to the cleavage, and oblique to, or
at right angles with it, is structural, and dependent on polar
forces ; while the proper bedding or stratification, and the ele
vation and the position of the strata, whether vertical, horizon
tal, or inclined, depend upon the general laws of geological
dynamics. I had supposed that these Welsh slates contained
no organic remains, but in an interview in London with Sir
Roderick Impey Murchison, the distinguished author of the
Silurian System, founded on his own profound examination of
the geology of Wales during many years, I learned that these
very slates of Llanberis are fossiliferous — containing marine
shells — and, therefore, they are of aqueous origin. The geolo
gical reader will find a description, with figures, of all the Welsh
fossils then known, in Sir Roderick's magnificent work.
The Royal Victoria Hotel. — In this region of desolate
mountains — winter on their summits, and cold winds sweeping
down their sides — it was grateful to weary travellers to find a
comfortable home, cheered by kind and courteous manners.
Such is the Victoria Hotel, which was erected by T. A. Smith,
Esq., the proprietor of the quarry. The house is large and
convenient, and is neatly figured in the Cambrian Mirror, in
its position at the foot of the mountains, and near the lakes ;
a delightful, romantic retirement, with fine air and excellent
trout. The house was named in consequence of a visit, in
1832, from the then Princess Victoria, and her mother, the
Duchess of Kent. The room in which they slept was occu
pied by members of our party.
If we republicans are disposed to smile at the great atten
tion paid, in this country, to all movements of the royal family,
and of other distinguished individuals, I believe, if we are

Departure from Llanberis. 55
candid, we shall find that it springs from a principle inherent
in our natures, and we at home are not negligent of such asso
ciations. Partaking of American feelings, I have seen, with interest,
in Boston, the house where Franklin was born ; in Fredericks-
burgh, Virginia, that where the mother of Washington lived,
and that in which her glorious son himself lived and died, at
Mount Vernon ; and our country is full of similar associations,
with the memory of the great, the wise, and the good ; and so
let it be ; it is a human feeling which should be respected and
cherished. Dolbadarn Castle. — We visited the ruins of an ancient
castle, called Dolbadarn. It is on a high hill, overlooking the
valley, and the entire pass of Llanberis is visible from it. It is
a small structure of its class, being only twenty-five feet in
diameter and seventy feet high.
Its history is obscure. " Owen Goch, brother to Llyweyn,
last prince of Wales, was imprisoned here upwards of twenty
years, for having joined in the rebellion against his brother."

geprte from f Ianteis, attir Dssssge \\xm%\ i\t
Itatens.
March 22.
It was necessary for us to travel by post again to-day. As
we were to encounter a considerable ascent, we took, as yester
day, a coach and four for ourselves, and a second carriage with
two horses for our baggage. At the distance of five miles we
reached the summit, when we dismissed one pair of horses, to
be returned by the post-boy, while, having now mainly a down
hill road, we proceeded with the two remaining pairs. Our
successive changes of horses were at Capel Carig, thirteen miles ;
again at Pentrevoiles, fifteen miles ; again at Corwin, fifteen

56 Departure from Llanberis.
miles, and ten more brought us to Llangollen. It is impossible
that any description should do justice to the sublime and beau
tiful scenery on the route through which we passed this morn
ing. The first five miles led us through a narrow gorge in the
mountains, where they rise abruptly from two to three thou
sand feet on each side, dark, rugged, and precipitous, their
summits wrapped in clouds, or capped by snow, and their sides
covered with massy ruins, that, in the course of age's, have
fallen from the cliffs and peaks. Some of the fallen masses are
of enormous size, and others are impending to their fall.
On some of the mountain peaks, detached rocks were seen
in giddy positions, where a small force might throw them
down. So grand were the scenes through which we were
passing, that, although the air was that of winter, most of the
party prefen-ed to shiver on the tops of the carriages rather
than to lose the grandeur of these mountain passes, which, as
it was a hard pull for the horses up hill, we had full time to
survey. It was thought by some of the party that on the slopes of
the rocks, there were marks of glacial action, but we could not
stop to examine ; from what we afterwards heard in a discus
sion in the Geological Society, in London, we found that these
impressions were correct. The mountains among which we
were travelling, are called the Snowdon Group ; but there is
one mountain, Snowdon proper, which is more than 3500 feet
high above the ocean. It is pre-eminent above the rest, and
was in view in the distance, although its top, in common with
many more, was involved in clouds and vapor, driven by fitful
gusts of wind, with occasional dashes of rain. These moun
tains, so near to the ocean, and so well prepared, both by posi
tion and their cold temperature, to condense the vapors borne
to their sides and summits by the western gales, are frequently
visited by storms and tempests. We did not attempt the
ascent of Snowdon, both because the weather was thick and

Departure from Llanberis. 57
unpropitious and the mountain snow-covered, and because we
expected to ascend the more lofty Alps and Apennines.
The gorge of Llanberis, through which we had now passed,
is one of great geological interest. It records distinctly the
effects of the forming, elevating, and disrupting forces, which
have produced its present aspect of wild and ruinous sublim
ity ; it is a scene of savage, desolate grandeur. There is not a
single tree to veil the rocks, and there is scarcely any verdure
or any living animal. We did indeed see a solitary goat high
up among the cliffs, on the side of a mountain, and it was
equally difficult to conceive how he arrived in his perilous
position, or how he was ever to escape from it. The mountain
scenery, as we proceeded, grew somewhat milder, but it was
still very grand. As we descended, beautiful verdant valleys
began to appear here and there. Many sheep were seen, but
their fleeces appeared like long hair, and extremely abundant ;
cattle, also, became numerous, and among them the native
black cattle of Wales were seen here and there. The roads
were wonderfully fine, and evidently because they had been
thoroughly made in a very difficult country of rocks, and deep
and rugged defiles.
The road, constructed with admirable skill and fidelity, and
being bounded on both sides by a high and strong stone wall,
laid in mortar, or by a natural barrier, it affords perfect security
where it is much needed, as it often passes aloDg precipitous
cliffs, and is occasionally cut out of the mountain, when, of
course, the parapet wall is needed only on one side. Indeed,
the road is perfect ; it is entirely smooth and hard, and we
could not conceive that it could be surpassed in any part of the
world, and such were our impressions after we had seen the
best roads in the most improved countries of the continent.
This is a part of the great road between London and Holy
head, in Anglesea ; it passes over the suspension bridge of the
Menai Strait. Vol. i.— 3*

58 River Dee.
In our progress, we came to a very fine agricultural coun
try. Grand mountains and hills, indeed, never deserted us,
but, among them, were magnificent valleys, with rich and well
cultivated farms.

^.ikx $tt — fetoiu — WLtte\ farpr — $m 3tmtxi
The country became eminently beautiful as we crossed the
Dee, now swollen with rains, and foaming along with a rapid
and noisy current, as we entered the ancient town of Corwin,
famous in Welsh story. It was here that the Welsh assem
bled those armies which were defeated successively by both
Henry II. and Henry IV., of England.
A Welsh Harper. — The afternoon was bright, as the sun
shone out after rain, and as we were now in the heart of an
cient Wales, while we were waiting for our horses, it was a
veiy pleasant circumstance to hear the native minstrelsy of the
true descendants of the primitive Britons, whom the Roman
power could never subdue.
A harper of a very respectable appearance, apparently
about fifty years of age, presented himself at the door, and we
invited him into the parlor. He. had a very fine instrument,
and performed several of the wild and touching aire of his
country, in a manner which drew money from our pockets, if
not tears from our eyes.
From Corwin to Llangollen our ride was rapid, and led us
through a splendid country, upon which our epithets of warm
admiration were so often lavished that our vocabulary was ex
hausted, and if silence ensued, it was because we could say no
more. We had no conception of so beautiful a region in
Wales, and our impressions were the more vivid because its

Vale of Llangollen. 59
extreme beauty was so strongly contrasted with the wild sub
limity of the pass of Llanberis.

Mt si f IanpIIm.
We arrived before evening in the beautiful and celebrated
vale of, Llangollen, and it was in our plan to pass our Sabbath
quietly here ; the first that had occurred since our landing, and
the engagements of an active week made repose and religious
observances the more acceptable.
Our Hotel — a comfortable, but unpretending place — was
contiguous to two- interesting objects, an ancient Welsh church
and the still more ancient river Dee, which flowed at the very
door of our abode.
Sabbath Morning, and a Welsh Church. March 23.
— We awoke in Llangollen. A week before we passed the
Sabbath on the English and Irish channels, and now, far
away from the agitations of the sea, our harmonious family
party were pleasantly established in our temporary home.
The morning was rainy, but we had not far to go to the
church, which was divided from us only by a small cemetery,
now full of the memorials of the dead. We entered the
church, which is a plain, ancient structure, semi-Gothic ; the
ceiling is ornamented with carved oak, and there are some
pictures of stained glass.
The morning service was in the native Welsh language, of
which the Amen, pronounced by the Clerk with great emphasis,
was the only word that was intelligible to us, although we could
follow the responses by means of a prayer-book in Welsh and
English ; the singing was melodious, the aspect of the people
serious, and it was very pleasing to observe remains of the an
cient Welsh language preserved in the primitive worship and

60 Plas Newydd.
faith of a people who were christianized very early, who con
tended long and bravely for their liberties, who were cruelly
oppressed by their more powerful neighbors, and were there
fore excited to vindictive retaliation. It is however happy,
that all the kingdoms, anciently existing in Britain, are now
united into one ; past wrongs, on all sides, are forgotten, and
there is no longer a frontier stained with blood, nor devastated
borders, nor a murdered population. In the afternoon, the
service, which was episcopal, was performed by the same cler
gyman as in the morning, and the same clerk and singers gave
their attendance. The Vale of Llangollen (pronounced Llan
gollen) is exceedingly picturesque ; a combination of the grand
and beautiful in endless variety. The river Dee, with its nu
merous turns, is an important feature in its scenery, winding,
as it does, among lofty hills, and being at present, as already re
marked at Corwin, much augmented by rain, it rushes by
our hotel with an impetuous and turbid current. Its course,
as it passes Llangollen, is soon reversed, when it returns, and
discharges its waters at Chester. It is rich in salmon, trout,
and other fish.
This valley has been famous in Welsh history. It was the
residence of their great champion, Owen Glendower ; it con
tained an abbey, and several castles crowned its high grounds.

lias l*to#, ns % f atos af f laiplta.
This vale has been rendered famous by having been the
chosen residence of two ladies of noble families, and -of Irish
extraction, who, for half a century, imparted celebrity to Llan
gollen. They are here no longer ; we saw their tombs in the
cemetery, and perused the brief memorial of their life and
death.

Plas Newydd. 61
Plas Newydd was the name of the " antique and unique
cottage of the late lamented Lady Eleanor Butler, and the
Hon. Miss Sarah Ponsonby. It is situated on a small knoll,
surrounded by lofty trees and beautiful grounds. These two
ladies came into this neighborhood in 1778, and being
pleased with the scenery, they made it their philosophical retire
ment from the frivolities of the fashionable world, from which,
and from their friends, they literally eloped. They built their
romantic cottage, and decorated it with palisades, ornamented
with grotesque and antique figures carved in oak, in a most pe
culiar style. Lady Butler died on the 2d of June, 1829, aged
ninety. Miss Ponsonby died on the 9th of December, 1831,
aged seventy-six. Both were interred in the church-yard at
Llangollen. Plas Newydd is now the property and residence
of two other maiden ladies, Miss Lolly and Miss Andrew, who
seem to tread the paths and emulate the retirement of their
predecessors. By permission, obtained through the courteous
intervention of another lady, I was permitted, with my son and
his wife, to see the house and the ladies themselves, and their
beautiful grounds. The house is a gem, and in the enjoyment
of it, the ladies, Butler and Ponsonby, from attachment to each
other, refused advantageous offers of marriage, gave up the
world, and lived here for more than fifty years in elegant retire
ment in the exercise of benevolence and hospitality."
They saw at their house the most celebrated literary char
acters of the day — Madame de Genlis, Sir Walter Scott and
others of his scale of fame — and the ladies of Llangollen con
tributed to the fame of this justly celebrated vale quite as much
as its grand and lovely scenery. They were ladies of accom
plished minds and manners, and doubtless their relinquishment
of their friends, and of the world for each other, added a de
gree of romantic interest to their quiet abode, nor were they
without some harmless, although rather amusing peculiarities
of costume.

62 Plas Newydd.
Prints are sold in Llangollen, not only of Plas Newydd,
their beautiful house, but of themselves in the somewhat
masculine attire which they chose to assume. They are re
presented in full riding dresses, such as were formerly made
of broadcloth, close fitted to the waist, and with an ample
skirt, and they wore round hats, with high crowns, I suppose
of beaver, such as are worn by gentlemen. As they were of
full habit of health, this costume did not tend to feminine de
licacy of appearance, and they might have been taken for
men in disguise. The present possessors of the house kindly
accepted our apology, as strangers from a far country, for the
liberty we had taken, and we were cordially received. One
of the ladies, although it was evening twilight, and the earth
wet with recent rain, attended us through the grounds,
which are most beautiful. Forest trees and fruit trees, and
trees and shrubs for ornament ; rich and well-trimmed hedge
rows ; varied surface of gentle hill and grassy slope ; and in
the remote and retired distance, a rivulet and waterfall ; near
the dwelling, domesticated birds of cheering song and elegant
plumage, and in the lofty trees the clamorous rooks ; all these
attractions were grouped into a harmonious variety, while in
front of the domicil was the beautiful vale and the rushing
Dee ; and upon a high hill beyond the river the shattered but
still imposing ruins of the old castle of Dinas Brann, whose
mouldering walls tell of a thousand years gone by.
The apartments of Plas Newydd are not large, but they
have a charm from the curious relics of antiquity, and produc
tions of art by which they are adorned, as well as from asso
ciation with the memory of the departed ladies. The ancient
oak, carved in great profusion of figures, crowded into panels,
staircase, hall-passage, doors, mantels, and ceiling, are vener
able for association, and interesting from their titled donors.
One door is from the Prince of Prussia, this from Valle Crutis
Abbey, &c. ; for the carved figures are antiques, taken chiefly
from celebrated ruins of abbeys, castles, and palaces of the

Cabtell Din as Brann. 63
olden time," and age has given it a deep and sombre hue.
While receiving the kind courtesies of the present occupants
of Plas Newydd, we could easily associate its unchanged ap
pearance with its late celebrated possessors, the ladies of Llan
gollen.

€uttll $1KM §OTfl.
We will not descend from Plas Newydd without looking
again across the vale and over the Dee at one of the most an
cient of the castles of Wales. Although its exact era may not
be known, it is associated with names and events memorable
in Cambrian history. The name is said to have been derived
from Bran Fendigaid, or Bran the Blessed. He was sent to
Rome as a hostage for his son, Caractaeus, who, although he
bravely defended his country of South Wales (Siluria) against
the Romans, " was at last defeated and led in triumph to the
emperor, Claudius, then at York, where his noble behavior
and pathetic speech obtained for him his liberty, a. d. 52."
Bran, the father, and his family, being at Rome during the
time of St. Paul's first imprisonment there, he is reported to
have brought back the Christian faith to his country, and,
therefore, was named Bran the Blessed.
Castell Dinas Brann was a place of great importance in the
wars of Wales ; it was often an asylum of safety, as it covered
nearly the entire summit of a precipitous and almost inacces
sible hill.
The castle was 290 feet by 140, and although the hill is
more than 900 feet above the river at its foot, its two wells
were never known to be without water. The castle is now
very completely a ruin, only a part of its walls is standing, but
from every view it presents a very picturesque and striking ob
ject.

64 Abbey of Valle Crucis.

prtS sf Mk torn.
Among the interesting objects in the Vale of Llangollen,
the Abbey of Valle Crucis, two miles from the village, is con
spicuous. It is an interesting ruin, and a portion of its walls is
in good preservation. It is believed to have been founded
about the year 1200, and was suppressed in 1535, by Henry
VHI. ; being, as is said, the first Welsh monastery which was
plundered by his insatiable cupidity. This abbey was situated
in a lovely, secluded valley, and it is still beautiful with verdure,
trees, and shrubs, along the river Dee, near which the abbey
rises, a venerable ruin, but still imposing and grand ; a silent
historian of scenes and events long past. The front wall, in
the form of a Gothic temple, is nearly entire ; even the slope
of the walls that sustained the roof is preserved, although man
tled with a profusion of vines. The principal doorway is also
entire, with a fine Gothic window above (the glass of which is
at Plas Newydd), and parts of the wall at the remote end of the
building, 180 feet distant, are still standing. The intermediate
space is filled with the ruins, which are now covered with
grass, having the consistency of turf. The abbey is supposed
to have been in perfect order 350 years ago, and but for ruth
less violence, might have been so still. A portion of the
chapel is remaining, and in a well in a cloister, was a double
benetoir, or baptismal font, a marble basin, which is still per
fect. A large portion of the materials of the abbey has been re
moved for building, and a farmer lives in a modern lodge near
at hand constructed out of these ruins. Finely carved Gothic
ornaments are plastered into the walls of the barn, or project
into the hay-loft. Recently, eleven skeletons of men were dis
covered here, being the only human remains that have been

Llangollen to Chirk Castle. 65
found on the premises, and they are supposed to designate the
place of the cemetery. The monks are reported to have lived
luxuriously, with abundance of viands and wines ; this may
have been true, but those who were destroying their establish
ment, would, of course, give no favorable report of their morals.
"The Pillar of Elisig was erected in this valley 1200
years ago, to commemorate an early chief. It was originally
12 feet high, but was thrown down and mutilated by the bar
barism of Cromwell's soldiers. The part that remains is 7 feet
long. It was re-erected a few years ago, and is still visible a
little way from the abbey. It was originally covered with in
scriptions. The Bridge over the Dee is a beautiful structure, arched
with stone, massive and yet graceful. It has already stood 500
years, and may as well last for 1000 more.
It is worthy of remark that we were very favorably im
pressed by the courtesy and intelligence of the good girls, our
guides, both at Caernarvon and Valle Crucis.

'f Iangfflkn to €\ixk €mtlt, toitjf % §rtop.
March 24, 1861.
Again in our post carriages on a bright day, with a cheer
ing sun, and a buoyant, elastic atmosphere, we drove out of
the splendid vale of Llangollen, delighted with its grand and
beautiful scenery, combining the features of lovely valleys and
rich farming lands, with picturesque hills, bold mountains, and
venerable ruins.
A few miles brought us to the two magnificent bridges
which cross the valley.
The Viaduct which sustains the railroad that passes from
London to Holyhead, is 1531 feet long; its height is 148 feet; -

66 Chirk Castle.
the number of arches, 19, and the intermediate spaces 60 feet.
It was two years and a half in building, and cost £72,346. It
spans the Dee and its valley. When we descended on our feet
to the level of the foundation, and looked upward beneath the
arches, the impression was very strong, and almost made us
giddy. The Aqueduct Bridge is a work which, if not equally stu
pendous, is still entitled to be regarded as one of the wonders
of the age. It conveys the Ellesmere canal over the vale,
an extent of 250 yards. It has ten arches, resting on
pyramidal piers of stone, which are 65 feet in the centre. It
was constructed by Mr. Telford. Two of the wonders of mo
dern engineering are exhibited here : a railroad and a canal
passing high in the air, each on their own magnificent arches.
It is remarkable that several of the greatest engineering
works of Great Britain are in this region of Wales. The Me
nai Suspension Bridge, the Menai Tubular Bridge, the Viaduct,
and the Aqueduct Bridge.
The Menai Tubular Bridge, and the Viaduct Bridge, men
tioned above, when undertaken, were both supposed to be im
possible, but science and art have triumphed, and probably the
limit of their powers in this branch of engineering has not yet
been reached.

€\lxl &mtlt.
Interesting objects are very near to each other in this re
markable region. We had only satisfied our eyes with gazing
at the magnificent Viaduct and Aqueduct Bridges, when we
arrived at the opening of the park leading to Chirk Castle, one
of the most perfect of the feudal fortresses.
We approached it by a private road of half a mile, through
the domain. The grounds are laid out very much in the style

Chirk Castle. 67
of the modern English parks. A smooth lawn of green sward,
adorned by numerous and stately beech-trees, rose by an agree
able swell, until we arrived at the castle itself. It has an air
of gloomy grandeur — serene, and majestic in its vast walls
of gray stone, forming a quadrangle of 250 feet on a side.
It is not a ruin, but is in perfect repair; it is an authentic pre
sentation of a palace and a fortress combined, such as baronial
chiefs constructed for their own security and accommodation,
and too often for the annoyance of their neighbors, long before
gunpowder, or the art of printing was discovered ; long before
America was dreamed of, and when fighting and feasting were
the chief employments of nobles as well as kings.
Chirk Castle stands on a commanding eminence, affording
rich and extensive prospects from the walls and towers. It is
believed to have been founded in 1011, before the Norman
conquest, and if this date is authentic,* it is 840 years old, nor
is this the most remote date of the structure, for it was erected
on the foundation of a castle still more ancient.
In the progress of events, reaching through so many cen
turies, it has, by inheritance, by sale, by attainder, and con
fiscation, passed into the hands of numerous possessors. Henry
VIII., to whom nothing was sacred, caused the proprietor, Sir
William Stanley, to be executed, and gave the castle to his
natural son, Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Richmond and Somerset ;
and after his death, Queen Elizabeth gave it to her favorite, the
Earl of Leicester. " After his death, it became the property of
Lord St. John, of Bletso, whose son sold it in 1595 to Sir
Thomas Myddleton, in whose family it still remains," and is
now owned by his descendant, Robert Myddleton Biddulph,
Esq., Lord Lieutenant of Denbighshire, and formerly in Parlia
ment. This castle is fortified by large round towers at the
angles, and a still larger one in front, which had formerly a
heavy portcullis. It was besieged by that iron man, Cromwell,
* Another account assigns it a later origin.

68 Chirk Castle.
and three of its sides were battered down ; but it was not taken,
being stoutly defended by Sir Thomas Myddleton, that brave
old knight, whose portrait we saw in the castle, with pointed
beard and antique costume. The hill on which Cromwell
planted his artillery is in view from the walls. The position
was very favorable for cannon, as it commanded the castle.
In the kitchen we saw many articles of ancient armor, with
others that were modern. In the lower hall is a large room,
used by the present possessor as an office. Some of the apart
ments of the castle are very splendid. The grand staircase
is in one of the round towers, and is adorned with pictures and
Gobelin tapestry. There is a magnificent saloon, 60 feet by
30, an elegant drawing-room, 30 feet square, and a long gal
lery for pictures. The ceilings of the saloon and the drawing-
room are adorned by rich gilded and colored compartments.
Among the portraits, there are many which are beautiful works
of art, and memorable also for those whom they represent.
There are the monarchs Charles I. and Charles H., father
and son, and an exquisite portrait, by Lely, of Nell Gwynne.
The Myddletons were loyal, and their devotion was felt by
these monarchs, who acknowledged it by rich presents. Charles
I. presented a chest, or secretary, splendidly inlaid with pearl,
and a cabinet, covered profusely with massive silver. In a dis
tribution of the Myddleton estate, this cabinet was valued at ten
thousand pounds, and, with this castle, was allotted to one of
the daughters, while a castle was bestowed also upon each of
the other daughters. The very bed in which Charles I. slept,
is still preserved in a room adjoining the gallery.
While the other parts of the castle, those especially that are
inhabited by the family, have been more or less decorated by
modern ornaments, the southwest wing remains in all the
stern rudeness and strength of former ages ; ages warlike and
lawless, when security was the chief object, as rapine and vio
lence were every where abroad.
There are narrow winding stairs of stone in every tower.

Chirk Castle. 69
0, how tiresome it is to wind and wind your weaiy way up
and down, and still you see it recorded in the very stones on
which you are treading, that innumerable feet of those who
walk no more on earth, have worn those deep bowl-like hol
lows as they have manned and watched the lonely towers, and
relieved guard, while the tardy hours went round.
The rooms, especially in the towers, are small, and the win
dow recesses terminate in a slit, or loop-hole, for the discharge
of arrows, while the opening inward is broad. The doors
moved on ponderous hinges, and were furnished with massive
bolts. There were also deep and spacious vaults, used as
prisons. The principal prison was 50 or 60 feet deep below
the surface ; it was frightful even to look into this dark, damp,
deep, and dismal dungeon. We saw also the iron anklets
which had evidently been used on many and many a prisoner,
the leather with which (as if to afford some show of humanity)
they were lined, was polished smooth by friction. How many
sighs and groans were breathed, and how many tears were shed
while this slow process of polishing went on !
The interior court of the castle is 165 feet by 100, and is
completely inclosed on all sides. There is an arched gate
way through which carriages are driven in.
From the summit of the castle seventeen counties may be
seen. The walls are ten feet thick.
At the time of our visit, there were numerous attendants
around the premises, and the territory gave proof of careful cul
tivation. We saw some fine animals, and we were attracted to the
stables to see the prince of donkeys ; so very large, round,
and clean, and having a strong aspect of animal happiness ;
the only beautiful and happy-looking donkey I remember ever
to have seen.
The castle was courteously shown to us by the housekeeper,
who, as we entered, requested us to use the rug and to walk on

10 Chirk Castle.
the druggets. Clumsy felt slippers are furnished in many
places, especially on the continent, to protect the polished
floors. Many historical events of interest have occurred in this
neighborhood. There are remains of ancient British fortifica
tions, particularly of Offa's dike, which was thrown up as a
boundary between the Saxons and Britons. We drove from
the castle through a second grand avenue of ancient beech-
trees, and soon our road passed through a cut in Offa's dike, a
high mound being on each side, overgrown by trees.
In the year 1164 a very sanguinary battle was fought near
this castle between the English and the Welsh. On that occa
sion, many of the English were slain, and were buried in Offa's
dike, for which reason the place is still called Adwyr Beddau :
that is, the place of graves.
Chirk Church and its Monuments. — We were now at
the end of our posting, and dismissed our carriages. We fin
ished our review of things connected with the Chirk Castle by
visiting the church of the village, a neat Gothic building of
the olden time.
Its walls are almost covered with the monuments of the
Myddleton family. There are groups of statuary, of the size
of life, representing family scenes of deep interest, and the
figures are wrought with great skill. A mother nursing her
infant presents a beautiful and touching scene ; as the fond in
fant clings to her embrace, the marble bosom seems as soft and
impressible as in life. Mr. Robert Myddleton Biddulph has a
large family pew here, and is himself a regular attendant. It
was covered, but the veil was lifted for our inspection ; the pew
was lined with cloth.
Passing into England. — Having finished our rapid in
spection of that portion of Wales which we had time to see,
and which, as we presumed, might stand as an example of the
country at large, we were now prepared to pass into England.
Before leaving Wales, I will, however, remark that the com-

Chirk to Birmingham. 71
mon people still retain their mother tongue. A company of
boys, who ran along by our carriages when we were going to
Llanberis, shouted to us in Welsh, and no doubt were solicit
ing money, but we understood not one word of their appeal,
nor did they probably comprehend one word of our reply.
The better educated people of course speak English. We
could imagine that in the aboriginal Welsh people, of this
their native land, we saw the features, physical form, and men
tal manifestations of the ancient Britons, their ancestors.

CjjirJt to iinnranlpm.
A hasty repast prepared us for a rapid ride on the railroad,
which we had now reached, and at the station-house at Chirk,
we took our tickets for Birmingham. Our course was through
Shrewsbury and Wolverhampton.
We had no time to take note of the large town of Shrews
bury, nor even to inquire for the place where the fat old knight
fought Hal two hours by Shrewsbury clock, and still less had
we opportunity to ascertain the object of numerous manufac
tories, whose tall and smoking chimneys were frequently in
view all along through a populous region. We arrived at Bir
mingham after the gas was lighted in the grand station-house.
In the English trains the conductors do not, as with us, go
through the cars while they are in motion, and take the tickets
from the passengers : the train is stopped on its arrival, and
before any of the passengers get out, the tickets are all taken
and reported at the proper office. At the stations there are
many porters and carriages in waiting, but the people are
not boisterous and intrusive as with us ; they rather wait for
your application, or for that of the conductor in your behalf.
The baggage is marked, but not checked, according to our
system, which, in this respect, is decidedly preferable to theirs.

72 Birmingham.

§OTrar#m.
March 24 and 25, 1852.
We were very soon established in the Stork Hotel, recom
mended to us by Mr. Thomas, of the Stork Hotel at Liverpool.
At the door we were welcomed by Mr. G., a very agreeable
fellow-passenger in the Baltic, and by his friend, Mr. W., both
of New- York. It is not difficult for an American to feel at
home in England, especially when he meets those whom he
has known in his own country. We were soon arranged in
our comfortable parlor, and a good dinner, well served, re
freshed us for our evening occupation ; with our travelling
books, our letters, and journals, and the unity of a family
circle, whose views and purposes are in harmony, we enjoy an
agreeable winding up of the work of our days, which is rarely
finished until the midnight hour.
March 25. — Having, when in England in 1805, made a
rapid transit through Birmingham, it was with very great re
luctance that I was compelled to leave it again without taking
time to look into its manufactories, which, as all the world
knows, are of high importance, especially in the metals.
Our plan of visiting Italy required the utmost economy of
time, and, therefore, we were constrained to take an early de
parture, after enjoying an extensive drive in open carriages, on
a fine morning, through the most interesting part of this great
city — a great city indeed— and what a contrast ! In May,
1805, when I was here for a few hours, Birmingham contained
78,000 people, now 300,000 ! We can hardly tell of greater
increase in our towns in the United States ; and every where, as
far as we have hitherto gone, all things tell of progress, of ad
vancement in arts, wealth, population, and general prosperity —
a degree of prosperity, however, which does not prevent ex
treme poverty among the masses — but this does not, to the

Birmingham to Oxford. 73
general traveller, appear on the surface of things, except in par
ticular cases, as already observed at Liverpool.
Even to our rapid and superficial observation, in the few
hours remaining at our disposal, it was obvious that Birming
ham is not, as many suppose, merely a dusky smoky town of
workshops and manufactories. These do indeed abound, but
we drove through numerous fine streets, wide, clean and quiet,
adorned with stately private dwellings, and public edifices
of magnitude and importance. Birmingham is situated in the
heart of the kingdom, in the midst of a splendid country, and
its manufactures are transmitted to all the regions of the earth.

iOTinj$am to ®*toro, lis glmrastar. March 25.
In order to reach the great Western Railway, which would
convey us near to Oxford, it was necessary to pass to Glouces
ter on the Severn, and to proceed even to the vicinity of Bristol
and Bath. At Gloucester we had merely time to visit the
great Gothic Cathedral. It is 440 feet long, and its other
dimensions being in proportion, it is therefore of vast size, and
is truly venerable and magnificent.
It is full of the tombs and monuments of the religious
orders of former days ; of Knights, and warriors,* and of the
beautiful and lovely, and the venerable of former centuries, as
well as of those who have left behind them no memorial but a
name. This church was founded in the time of the Saxons, and
the immense arches which we saw in the crypt beneath, are
attributed to that people. This establishment was, in gone by
ages, an asylum for numerous monks and nuns, whose cloisters
* King Edward II. who was murdered in Berkley Castle, is inter
red here. Vol. i. — 4

74 Birmingham to Oxford.
stih remain ; they are very extensive, and we walked rapidly
through them.
This cathedral, like most of the ancient English edifices in
the middle and south of the kingdom is, externally, much cor
roded by time, for like them it is constructed ofthe oolite, which
is a very perishable material. This cathedral suffered also very
much from the wanton mutilations by Cromwell's soldiers in
the civil wars. Sepulchral monuments — statues erected in
honor of the dead, as well as delicate architectural ornaments
belonging to the building, are in many instances broken.
Gloucester is on the Severn about 30 miles above its junc
tion with Bristol Channel; it is 105 miles from London,
and is a city of moderate size. It is in the midst of a rich
and beautiful country, and on the entire ride from Birmingham
there was a succession of picturesque rural scenes.
The journey from Gloucester gave us an opportunity to see
the great Western Railway. It is indeed a grand road : the
track is six feet wide, and the road is constructed of the best
materials and in the best manner. It is so firm that the move
ment upon it is veiy smooth and agreeable ; still, conversation
on all the English railroads is difficult to be heard, and this is
generally true also of ours in America. The great Western has
been enormously expensive, probably beyond any thing of the
kind in the world. An English gentleman, with whom we
were accidentally associated in the cars upon this road, con
demned the expenditure as prodigal and ruinous, and expressed
a decided preference for the more economical system of the
United States, in whose railroad stocks he was a proprietor.
Arrival at Oxford. — The railroad does not enter Oxford,
but stops at some distance from it. We arrived before evening,
entered the city in an omnibus, when it was raining, and found
a parlor and bed-rooms, at the Star Hotel. The house was
damp, owing however to the abundance of rain, and to the over
flow of the meadows around the city, which we afterwards
found to be very extensive.

Arrival in London. 75
Our dinners are generally at 6 o'clock in the evening, as
this accords best with the convenience of travelling, and with
the habits of the countiy. In this instance, however, we were
out of time for the hours ofthe hotel, and we obtained a sufficient
supply of meats only by waiting long, and by renewing our or
der repeatedly. The attendance also was very deficient. I
mention it for no other reason than to add, to the credit of
British hotels, that a similar mischance never happened to us
any where else.
In the evening I called with my son upon our old friend
Dr. Charles Daubeny, Professor of Chemistry and Botany, who
in 1837 travelled extensively in the United States, and passed
two days in New Haven.
Our reception was very kind, and I shall say more of our
intercourse anon.
Excursion to London. March 26. — Information had been
received by a letter from our friend Dr. Mantell, that there
would be a meeting of the Geological Society on the evening
ofthe 26th instant, and that it would be the last ofthe season.
We therefore determined to attend it, especially as we were
desirous to see the eminent men who might be assembled on
the occasion, and to hear their discussions. Our friend and
fellow-traveller Mr. B., had, at our request, been to London,
and obtained our American letters from Dr. Mantell — with good
news — and had secured for. us lodgings at Morley's Hotel, Tra
falgar Square, in the very heart of London.

^rriftsl in l&mton.
An afternoon ride in the cars through a splendid coun
try, now opening in the luxuriance of Spring — placed us in
our beautiful apartments before evening, and I had some-
leisure to realize the change in this part of London, which I
now entered again after an interval of 46 years.

76 Arrival in London.
In 1805, there was at the head of Parliament Street, only
the junction of the Strand and of Charing Cross. The Strand and
Charing Cross are now invaded by the splendid Trafalgar
Square, which then had no existence ; and indeed the victory
by Nelson, in honor of which the square was created and named,
occurred only in October of that year, and I saw the general
illumination in London, to celebrate the victory, and witnessed
the mourning too for Nelson's death.
Trafalgar Square is at the head of Parliament Street, and
still retains the equestrian bronze statue of Charles I., which
was there in my early time. The colossal statue of Nelson, of
the height of 18 feet, stands on a Corinthian column of granite,
of 176 feet in its entire height. The square pedestal on which
the column reposes is 36 feet in height, and the sides are oc
cupied by bronze bas-reliefs of Nelson's four great battles of
Aboukir, St. Vincent, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar ; the figure
of Nelson even in these tablets is larger than life.
I saw the living man in August, 1805, walking in the
Strand, with a great crowd at his heels ; he was sun-burnt from
exposure on the ocean, in pursuit of the then celebrated Roche-
forte Squadron, to the West Indies and back. I was near him
when he stepped into a shop, apparently to elude the populace,
and saw his features distinctly. In the following September
I was at Portsmouth, and from a bastion in the fortification,
saw him not far off, step into his barge : — it was the last time
that his foot pressed English ground — for he then went on board
of the Victory, which lay at anchor off Spithead, and on Octo
ber the 21st lost his life in the battle of Trafalgar.
Dr. Mantell. — This distinguished friend of twenty years —
connected with us by an active correspondence, and the inter
change of many deeds of kindness and usefulness, received us
with the greatest cordiality at his house, in Chester Square, and
we were truly glad to know, personally, one who, for so long a
period, had commanded our respect and admiration.

Geological Society. 77

€rotopal Stotj, Sflitrwt Mmu.
Dr. Mantell went with us to the meeting which was already
opened for the evening, Professor Hopkins of Cambridge, Presi
dent, being in the chair, and we were conducted to a seat, to which
we were both entitled by courtesy on the introduction of a mem
ber, and myself, by honorary membership. We found ourselves
next to a gentleman, whom we had known familiarly in Amer
ica, and at our own homes ; it is hardly necessary to add, that
we were received by Sir Charles Lyell, with kindness. Dr.
Bigsby, formerly intimate at my house, soon found us out, and
gave us a welcome. A long paper was being read by a mem
ber, upon glaciers — grooves and scratches in rocks, and upon
bowlders or erratics. It was half past 10 o'clock before the
paper was finished, and the time for discussion was therefore
the more limited : but limited as it was, it drew forth some of
the most able men, and we had the pleasure of listening to re
marks of much interest, from Sir Roderick Impey Murchison ;
Sir Henry de la Beche ; Sir Charles Lyell ; Prof. E. Forbes ;
Mr. Sharp and others. Sir Charles Lyell announced us by re
marking, that " the meeting might hope for some additional
illustrations on this subject, from Professor SiUiman and his son(
who do us the honor to attend on this occasion." Dr. Mantell
had privately intimated our presence to President Hopkins,
and, in due time, he invited me by name (in a manner
equally dignified and courteous), to enter into the discus
sion. " Ignorant as I had been, before we entered the room,
as to what subject would be discussed that evening, still, I
could not refuse ; there was of course no time for reflection,
and I was constrained to rise and speak impromptu, substan
tially as follows :
Mr. President : — I thank you, sir, for affording me the oppor-

78 Geological Society.
tunity to manifest the high gratification which we feel, on being
favored with an opportunity to attend a meeting of the Geolo
gical Society of London. I trust, sir, that I may be pardoned
for a slight deviation from the course of remark which is ap
propriate to the subject under discussion on this occasion, when
I avail myself of it to say, that we are very happy to see the emi
nent men whose writings we have so long perused with instruc
tion and pleasure, and to listen to their living voices.
Ln this ancient palace of kings, but now and for many years
containing apartments devoted to science, I formerly was a list
ener at meetings ofthe Royal Society, and ofthe Antiquarian So
ciety — and an observer at the Academy of Painting ; — but then
there was no Geological Society, and during the year that I passed
in Great Britain in my youth, the most instructive year of my
life, — I was obliged to resort for Geological information, to the
ancient and deep mines of Derbyshire and Cornwall ; for Lon
don then contained no considerable geological collection. In
returning to England after so long an absence, I experience pe
culiar pleasure, not only in seeing the Geological Society still
in vigorous action, although no longer in its youth, but also in
observing the great progress made in this noble country, in all
the great interests of human society. If I may be allowed to
judge, sir, from a rapid transit, during a few days, through
Wales, and the west and middle of England, I should say, that
in all the most important particulars, the country is wonderfully
improved, and that its agriculture especially has made great ad
vances. I have witnessed these things with the more pleasure,
as I participate in a feeling quite common in my country, of
great reverence for, and good will towards the father land, from
which we derived our language, our laws, andTnstitutions, our
moral and religious principles and habits, our social organiza
tion, and to a great extent, our literature and our arts ; as
we are one people in our origin, I trust that we shall ever re
main united in friendly relations, and that the collisions which

Geological Society. 79
have existed, have passed away for ever ! In relation to the
subject under discussion this evening, I know not, sir, that it is
in my power to add any thing important to the very instruc
tive and interesting communications to which we have listened ;
especially as Sir Charles Lyell has already given to the world,
the results of his very extensive observations in North America,
observations, not only on the geology of those wide regions over
which he travelled, but on our institutions, state of society, man
ners and government, which he has described with manly in
tegrity and candor.
I beg leave to add, sir, upon the topics of discussion now
before the society, that they appear to me to be still embar
rassed with difficulties. The theory of glaciers is beautiful,
and I am ready to embrace it wherever it is applicable. I
have not yet seen the Alps, but I hope to see them soon. I am
not aware that we can admit the existence of glaciers in the old
United States proper, if we are to judge from the height of the
mountains, as they now are, as none of them are sufficiently
elevated to produce and sustain these perennial accumula
tions of ice and snow. The White Mountains of New
Hampshire, whose height does not exceed one mile and a quar
ter above the sea, give up their snowy robe in July and August,
and except it may be in some secluded glen away from solar
and atmospheric influence, winter there resigns his dominion
during a few weeks in the hottest part of summer. Unless
these mountains had, formerly, been much higher than now,
or the climate much colder, they could not have nourished gla
ciers, and of course the Allegany or Appalachian chain, none
of which are a mile in height, could never have been covered
through the year with ice and snow.
I will not here repeat the ingenious speculations of Sir
Charles Lyell, regarding the effect of a change in the relative
proportions of land and water in the northern hemisphere, in
accounting for the greater spread of Ice over this part of the
earth at a former period.

80 Geological Society.
The Rocky Mountains, especially the more northern portions,
and the mountains on the northwest coast towards Cook's Inlet,
may, indeed, produce and sustain glaciers; for they rise to the
necessary elevation : many of their peaks and ridges are far
above the snow line, and are capped with frozen masses that
are never entirely melted.* It appears to me, sir, that the phe
nomena now under consideration cannot in North America be
accounted for, without the admission of floating icebergs, con
taining rocks and stones frozen into them, which would enable
them to score, and scratch, and variously mark the rocks as
they passed over them. This, of course, requires submersion of
the. land to a great extent; and we must suppose also moun
tains sufficiently elevated above the sea to produce and sustain
icebergs, although in polar regions the required elevation
would not be great. There must also be an impulse of winds,
waves, and currents to force them along ; and the higher they
rose above the water, the greater would be the pressure they
would exert upon the ocean floor. This would be measured
by the weight of the column of water which they were able to
displace, as this would depend upon the depth to which they
were immersed. This would be indicated by the elevation of
the berg above the ocean level, multiplied by 8 or 9, which
would give its depth beneath the surface. Thus, with an elevation
150 to 200 feet above the water, an enormous pressure would be
produced that might pervade extended surfaces of rock as the
berg advanced ; and when it was stranded, and rolled by winds
and waves, there would be sufficient force to produce, any of the
deepest grooves which we observe, as they would be hol
lowed out by the rocks and stones frozen into the bottom of
the berg, and acting like plough irons or grooving planes in the
hand of the carpenter. All navigators in polar regions, and in
* We are assured recently that glaciers do exist in connection
with the highest mountains of the United States — Mount Elias and
Mount Edgecombe, 1853, March.

Geological Society. 81
all seas visited by icebergs, attest the abundance of rocks, stones,
and gravel which, in a visible form, are thus borne over the
waves, and which we must therefore suppose are also concealed
in the ice beneath them. We must admit also the subsequent
elevation of the land above the waves to bring the bowlders
and erratics into view, and thus we have a true cause, and one
that is sufficient.
I well recollect that a brief paper which appeared some
years ago in the American Journal of Science and Arts, of
which I have the honor to be senior editor — a paper by a
practical manufacturer in America, but a native of Scotland, at
tracted the attention and obtained the approbation of Sir Rode
rick Impey Murchison, and was introduced by him into his
annual address before this society. [Sir Roderick here nodded
assent, and pronounced aloud the name of Peter Dobson, the per
son alluded to.J This paper stated very briefly and clearly the
theory of aqueo-glacial action ; and this cause appears to me
essential, to be combined with that of statical glaciers, acting
in place, or moved gently downward and forward in summer,
and in winter backward. The two causes will, perhaps, ac
count for the phenomena; but, as I have already remarked, the
subject is not without its difficulties, and demands, as it is
constantly receiving, additional investigation. Allusion was
then made to some striking examples in the. United States of
bowlders, grooves, &c, and to the remarkable fact that, in accor
dance with the observations of Mr. Darwin, in South America,
the bowlders cease at about 38° or 40° of north latitude. Few
are found south of the river Ohio, in Virginia and the Southern
States, while they abound in the north.
The working American geologists were also mentioned,
whose zeal and activity, favorably observed by Sir Charles Lyell,
when in America, and commended by other eminent men in
this society are, every year, under the authority of our local
and general governments, adding to our knowledge on this as
well as of other geological subjects.
Vol. i. — 4*

82 Excursion to Blenheim.
The discussions of the evening being ended, we were salut
ed and warmly welcomed by most of the eminent gentlemen
present. The same courtesy and affability were shown which
I well remember to have seen at the soiree of Sir Joseph
Banks, in Soho Square, in 1805. I was then strongly im
pressed, as I was again on this occasion, by the community
of kind feeling produced by the pursuits of liberal knowledge,
whether in literature or science. This catholic feeling binds
together in a cordial brotherhood men of different countries ; it
embraces also those who cultive the fine arts, and the cultivat
ors of the useful arts also, especially when they have an important
bearing upon the welfare of mankind, as Franklin with the print
ing press, Whitney with the cotton gin, Arkwright with the spin
ning Jenny, Watt with the steam engine, and Fulton with the
steamboat. About midnight we finished by tea and coffee, and
free conversation in the rooms of refreshment, and the meeting
broke up with great good will.
I have been the more induced to state these particulars of
the meeting of the Geological Society, because our departure
from London for the Continent will prevent our attending other
meetings of this or of the other learned bodies in London.
The following day we rejoined our party at Oxford Museum.

tora to SoUn^im.
Oxford, March 26.
The palace of the Duke of Marlborough at Woodstock,
presented to him by the nation, in honor of his services, drew
us from Oxford for a morning's excursion. We had the pleasure
of the company of Professor Gray and his lady, of Harvard
University, on this occasion. It was a cold wintry morning,
with rain, but we were repaid for a jaunt in uncomfort
able weather by a survey of this magnificent palace, which

Excursion to Blenheim. 83
occupied two hours. We entered by the splendid portal erected
to the memory of her husband by the surviving duchess of Marl
borough. The palace is situated on a plain in the midst of an
extensive domain, eleven miles in circuit, laid out in the finest
style of an English park. There are 2500 acres covered with
the richest verdure, including a beautiful lake, from which
large pike are obtained. The palace is an immense structure,
and has been greatly improved by the present duke, who,
it is said, has recently expended 80,000 pounds upon the
establishment. It is in vain to attempt a detailed descrip
tion. The north front measures 384 feet from one wing to
the other. We were courteously conducted through the
palace by a man of good appearance, and of civil but formal
manners. He was dressed in black — you would take him
for a gentleman, and feel that it would be improper to offer him
money, but he took it from our party. Generally, in Eu
rope, it will be safe to presume that it is expected, unless you
are with a person whose position in society is known.
We were taken through one splendid room after another,
until it would seem as if there would be no end of them. They
were generally lofty, apparently 20 to 25 feet high, and orna
mented with rich ceilings, gilding, and fresco paintings. The
principal apartments, are the hall, the bow-window room, the
state bedroom, the billiard room, the breakfast room, the grand
cabinet, the small drawing-room, the great drawing-room, the
dining-room, the saloon, the green drawing-room, the state
drawing-room, the crimson drawing-room, the library, the
chapel, and the Titian room. This palace had no appearance
of being the comfortable home of the family, who, it is said,
kept it up out of regard to the glory of their great ancestor ; but
that they are too poor to live in it in a style of appropriate
magnificence. The gardens or pleasure grounds, and the private grounds,
were not visible.
The pictures in this palace are numerous, and many of i
them are admirable. Vandyke, Sir Godfrey Kneller, Rubens,

84 Excursion to Blenheim.
Holbein, Paul Veronese, Leonardi da Vinci, Reynolds, Poussin,
Carlo Dolci, Corregio, Rembrandt, Teniers, Titian, and other em
inent artists, by mental creations, contributed the living glowing
images of their own minds, or transferred living features to the
canvas. Many very beautiful and lovely women and princely
men look down upon the observer from these animated and elo
quent walls ; for the palace is, in fact, an immense gallery of
pictures, divided among many rooms. The victories of the
Duke of Marlborough are displayed in Antwerp tapestry upon
the walls of several of the apartments. The tapestry pictures
are of great size : a single picture covers a side, sometimes two
sides of a large room ; so that there is space to exhibit also the
scenery of the country ; — there is room also for portraits of the
principal officers as large as life— of the duke himself, and
even of the horses ; and near or remote, the hostile armies are
lingering on the fearful edge of battle, or they are actually en
gaged in deadly combat. How touching the reflection, how
sad the remembrance, that, excejDting the present duke and his
family, only one individual of all the vast number of human
beings represented by these pictures survives. One that appears
as a little child in a large family group, is now the aged grand
mother of a distinguished peer. All the rest have passed away,
and the great Marlborough himself, and his proud, aspiring
duchess, lie under the marble pavement of the chapel in the
palace, as Louis XIV. le Grand reposes in his own tomb, and
Queen Anne in hers ; and all the sanguinary conflicts of that
eventful period are now to be found in history alone. War, by
a spirit of chivalry, was then a kind of duel on a great scale ;
it is said that military courtesy sometimes offered the first
fire to the enemy ; and a similar offer being made in return,
they thus bandied compliments as if in sport, when they knew
that the first fire would lay many a gallant soldier low.
One room is 183 feet in length, and contains the ducal
library, consisting of 17,000 volumes. They are protected by
a wire netting in front. At the upper end of the library is a
fine marble statue of Queen Anne, which cost 5000 guineas.

Oxford. 85
This palace, like most of the ancient public structures in Eng
land constructed of oolite, is externally much corroded by time.
These immense establishments are, of course, very expen
sive in repairs, in embellishments, in service, and in many
other ways ; but they bring no income, nor, in general, does
the vast domain which surrounds the palace. If kept in high
order, as they generally are, they require a great number of
laborers, especially in the horticultural department ; and for all
this there is little or no return, unless it may be something to
wards household for the supplies of food.
Noblemen are not always to be found in their palaces in
London. A distinguished foreign minister occupies the estab
lishment of a nobleman at a rent of two thousand pounds,
while the nobleman and his family live in retirement.
There is at Blenheim a column or obelisk to the memory
of the Duke of Marlborough, which is 134 feet high, crowned
with a statue in Roman dress.
The gallery of Titian is secluded in a separate building, and
for reasons obvious to those who have seen it, is exhibited in a
more reserved manner to artists and amateurs.
Presentation for Degrees at Oxford. March 26. — A
brief sojourn near a great university cannot afford, to a stranger,
any competent knowledge to enable him to judge of its actual
condition. A few things that have passed under my notice are
all that I shall venture to mention.
We attended a presentation for degrees in one of the old
halls. The room was very cold, and there appeared to be no
arrangement for warming it. To us, who are accustomed, even
in spring, to the cheering effect of diffused warmth, it was very
uncomfortable, and we did not regret that an hour ended the
ceremonial. We were informed that it is a weekly perform
ance, which may account for the apparent want of interest and
solemnity. The University officers were present in their official
costume, which is, indeed, graceful and elegant, and they were
generally men of genteel appearance. The communications
were in Latin, but very brief, and they were disposed of with

86 Oxford.
such haste, and in so low and indistinct a manner, as to give
the occasion the appearance of a mere ceremonial, in which
very little interest was felt. Most of the sentences were inau
dible ; but from the little I did hear, I inferred that the pronun
ciation was the same as that used in Yale College, with no
more difference than might be expected from English intona
tion. The Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Plumptree, a tall and elegant
gentleman, hardly arrived at middle-life, presided with graceful
dignity, and his admitto vos, and a few other words in his very
brief affirmation of the doings, I could hear with tolerable dis
tinctness. Our ladies attended on the occasion, and one of the
gentlemen of the University was very attentive in explaining to
us the ceremonial. It is obvious that Oxford has imbibed very
little of the spirit of modern improvement. We are assured
that physical science is not favored by the great body of the
University, and indeed it appears to be decidedly discounte
nanced. The classics — veiy valuable, as indeed they are, and
always deserving a high place in a course of general education
—are here, along with some portion of mathematics, and with
the moral and intellectual sciences, especially logic, the great
absorbing topics, and there has been little change from the
courses of former centuries. Neither Dr. Buckland (now Dean
of Westminster), nor Dr. Daubeny, both of them men eminent
in their professions, the former in mineralogy and geology, the
latter in chemistry and botany, could obtain more than a
meagre class, not on an average twenty pupils, in a University
which has 6000 members on its books, and 1500 in actual
attendance.* * On the question, who are members of the University, and what
are their duties and privileges, in answer to inquiries, I have re
ceived, from high authority, the following reply:
"All who have taken a degree, and continue their names on the
books of the University (for which they pay a small annual fee), are
included in the number of 5900— (last year, 6080.)
"If Masters of Arts, they have the privilege of votes at Univer-

Oxford. 87
A Parliamentary inquiry into the condition of the universi
ties has elicited, among other documents, a report by a distin
guished professor of Oxford, of which I have a copy. It pre
sents a table of the attendance for a series of years, on the lec
tures of the different professors of science, and one is astonished
to find that it is rare that any professor has more than ten or
twelve, some only five or six, pupils, and some of the chairs are
even at zero. Some of my American friends who have visited
Oxford with an introduction from myself to Dr. Buckland, and
have been by him invited to his lectures, have been astonished
to find perhaps only a dozen pupils.
No wonder that the spirit of Dr. Buckland, a noble man,
of high talents and attainments, seconded by great zeal and in
dustry, and eloquence, should have been discouraged by classes
which would be meagre indeed even in any of our infant col
leges in the youngest States of the Union. He is said to have
ended his last course in Oxford, with only three pupils ! Dr.
Buckland's lecture-room could hardly have accommodated
with seats more than twenty or twenty-five persons.
Dr. Daubeny's lecture-room is new, and was well fitted
up with all necessary conveniences and appendages, but it was
small ; perhaps the seats would receive thirty or forty. The
sity elections, including those for the members of Parliament, who
represent the corporate body.
" The members actually studying, are, of course, much smaller ;
I should conceive that 1500 would include all the students, though
probably not the resident Trustees and Fellows.
"The number of matriculations in 1851, was 359, which, multi
plied by four, would give 1436 as the number of undergraduates.
The members of convocation (viz., M. A., and in higher Degrees,)
was, in 1851, 3352, leaving for B. A. 1292, so that the total number
would be 6080. No residence is required of M. A., and only three
weeks of B. A. Undergraduates also are allowed three terms of ab
sence during the four years before taking their degree of B. A. The
terms of attendance at the University are but twenty-six* weeks. —
Extract of a letter from the University of Oxford, May 19, 1852.
* In Yale College the terms are forty weeka

88 Oxford.
impressions of a transient stranger may be erroneous ; but
I will quote the remarks of an Oxonian, one of the sons of the
University, a man of science, a scholar, and a man of world
wide fame. It was in London ; he remarked to this effect : that
so strong is the University in wealth and patronage, that
they are able to go on in their own way, despite of the influ
ence of the age, and of public opinion. The great object, he
remarked, among the fellows, was to obtain livings in the
church, and to this end their studies were mainly directed.
He did not doubt that should some college decide that they
would study Chinese alone, they would be able to carry it out.
In consequence of the movement now making by govern
ment, it is expected that more attention will be paid to science ;
that the attendance will, hereafter, be rendered obligatory, and
that, therefore, larger classes may be expected. Even the emi
nent gentleman, himself a distinguished professor, who ex
pressed this hope and expectation, did not venture to propose,
in the pamphlet alluded to, more than partial courses of science,
containing great leading principles, and selections of facts, with
out going fully into any of the sciences.*
Many years ago (November 1805), being a guest at the
house of the late Henry Thornton, Esq., M. P., at Clapham,
near London, I met there his friend and neighbor Mr. Wilber-
force, and I will now quote from my early travels a part of the
* Respecting the report alluded to above, it is remarked, in the
letter already quoted :
" It contains a large and valuable body of evidence, but it is not
certain that any substantial measure will be founded upon it."
In the mean time, some progress is making here in the promotion
of scientific studies. " It is hoped that a considerable sum of money
will be voted for the reception and maintenance of the Eielding Her
barium, one of the finest in Great Britain, once offered to the Bo
tanic Garden." " If so, foreign botanists may find at Oxford greater
facilities even than at the metropolis, for the study of plants, consid
ering the easy access to our collection." "We hope also to have a.
museum erected, more worthy of the University, than the one you
saw."

Oxford. 89
account of that interview. " They requested me to give them
a minute account of the state of our schools and colleges, and
especially of the course of studies pursued, the discipline, the
religious instruction, the preparatory steps, and the ultimate
honors, and distinctions. They were not satisfied with a merely
general statement. They commenced with the elementary
school, and wished a very minute and detailed account of our
means of instruction from the humble beginning up to the
honors of the university. I complied with their wishes, and of
course explained to them more particularly the situation and
literary means of my own State and college, because with
them I was best acquainted. I did not, however, omit those of
the other States, and endeavored to blend generals and particu
lars in the best manner I could. They requested a particular
account of all the studies pursued in Yale College— of the
authors read — the manner of reciting, the responsibility both
of instructor and student, the examinations, and in short, the
whole machinery of the institution. I then explained to them
the nature and extent of the school fund of Connecticut, and
the manner in which it was applied."
They expressed in strong terms, great satisfaction, and a
very favorable opinion, of the comparative advantages of the
American and English system of instruction. No doubt, very
high attainments in scholarship are made at the English uni
versities — and a system adapted to a country having monarchi
cal, aristocratical, and hierarchical institutions, can hardly be
compared fairly with one adapted to our simple state of
society and institutions, founded on a universal democracy.
Since the period of the conversation quoted above, veiy mate
rial improvements in education have been made in the United
States, and there is certainly great room for additional ad
vances. But if we do not make as many eminent scholars as
are trained in England, we raise up efficient practical men, who
can manage successfully the actual business of life, and our sys
tem is probably therefore better adapted to our actual condition.
Some of the university gentlemen here to whom the outlines of

90 Oxford.
our system have been explained, during our present visit, have
expressed surprise that so much should be done by us, and par
ticularly that examinations should be carried out in so many
departments. •
I have already mentioned that Dr. Daubeny travelled in
the United States in 1837, and printed for private circulation
an account of his travels, a very fair and candid book. He was
very kind to us in Oxford, and at his house, at dinner, we met
a circle of gentlemen, chiefly of the university, and some ladies
were with us in the evening. Dr. Daubeny's laboratory and
scientific collections are in a wing of his mansion. The conser
vatories of plants are in the rear, and the botanical garden is
immediately adjoining. Every thing in the departments of Dr.
Daubeny is in perfect order, and evinces a correct and elegant
taste. His house is adorned by pictures and other objects of
art, and dignified by an ample scientific library.
It is proverbial that the fellows are wont to be polite and
hospitable to ladies visiting the University, as well as to gentle
men. Whatever may be said of ages that are passed away,
it would seem that it can be no longer important to perpetuate
monastic celibacy as a condition for a fellowship ; it appears pe
culiarly unfortunate to detain men — usually too of a high order of
mental power and moral excellence — until the meridian of life is
attained or gone by, before they can enter upon those duties and
enjoyments which have a pecuhar sympathy with early manhood.
I was sorely disappointed of one pleasure, which I had
long anticipated, in case I should ever again visit England — I
mean an expected personal intercourse with Dr. Buckland,
from whom, in correspondence and various communications, I
had received much kindness during many years. But an
inscrutable Providence has permitted his noble mind suddenly
to fail — and we are painfully assured that he is now in a state
of hopeless imbecihty ! It is said that he was overdone with
cares and labors, and with incessant mental excitement. As
dean of Westminster he has, happily, and will have during life,
an ample revenue.

Oxford. 91
Dr. Kidd, Aldrichian Professor of Chemistry. — With
this amiable and excellent man, I had sustained an early corres
pondence, and he met me now with the warmth of an old
friend. He even remembered me as I was when here before,
a fact which I could not have believed, except on his assurance,
that all vestiges of the youth were not obliterated from the
features of the veteran. Dr. Kidd kindly brought some of
his family to see us — attended us in some of the public rooms,
and made me welcome in his own house. Dr. Kidd was one
of the early lights of the University in physical science.*
Cabinets of Natural History and Libraries. — Dr.
Buckland's collections in mineralogy and geology, especially
the latter, were extensive and various, and exceedingly valua
ble. The Saurian remains, the cavern bones and the fossil
vegetables are particularly fine ; but they are crowded together
in a manner to prevent their just exhibition. The jaw and
teeth, and other bones of the Megalosaurus, the great fossil
Saurian discovered by Dr. Buckland in the Stonesfield slate are
here. The trees of the coal formation are of magnificent size,
and they fully prove, along with many other such specimens, in
the British and Continental Museums, that in the swamps and
vast moist savannahs of the coal era there were grand forest
trees, as well as a more humble and more exuberant vegetation.
At this period the coniferse first appeared on earth. There is
in Dr. Buckland's museum a great exuberance of specimens,
but after abstracting superfluities, duplicates and unmeaning
things, there is still a vast collection, which in honor to his
memory and in justice to science should be displayed, advan
tageously, in more ample space. Indeed we were assured that
it is in contemplation to make a better arrangement. As the
collection is now situated, it makes no impression, compared
with what it would do, if properly exhibited.
* A light which I much regret to say shines no longer in this
world. That estimable man died of a sudden illness in September,
1851, six months after our interview in Oxford.

92 * Oxford.
The Ashmolean Museum* is in much better condition.
It embraces various branches of Natural History, besides many
miscellaneous objects of historical and personal interest. Among
the latter, are a watch and a glove of Oliver Cromwell — a
glove of Mary Queen of Scots — a watch and shoes of Elizabeth
of England. There is also an early Latin exercise of hers in
the Bodleian Library.
The remains of the hat of Bradshaw, president of the board
which condemned Charles I., are also in the Ashmolean. What
is however of much more importance, is the head of the Dodo,
the extinct bird of the islands of the Indian Ocean. In Dr.
Buckland's cabinet are the minute fossil jaws of the opossum
of the quarry of Stonesfield slate, near Oxford, a viviparous
and air-breathing animal, occurring in the early oolite, and
which, being apparently quite out of place, has given great
cause of discussion to geologists.
There are many large and valuable libraries in the different
colleges of Oxford, which we had not time to visit. We looked
into the two great libraries, the Bodleian and the Radcliffe.
The Bodleian was founded by Sir Thomas Bodley, and
was opened to the public in November 1602. It con
tains more than 400,000 volumes, and an immense collec
tion of manuscripts, ancient and modern. It contains
also a great number of pictures, chiefly portraits of dis
tinguished individuals, and among them is that of John
Duke of Marlborough and the famous portrait of the Earl of
Arundel, painted by Vandyke. There is a superb bronze
statue of William Earl of Pembroke, chancellor of the univer
sity from 1616 to 1630. But it is in vain to attempt to enume
rate the interesting objects contained in this vast collection.
The Radcliffe Library, named after its founder, Dr.
Radcliffe, is about 100 years old. It is in a grand Rotunda, in
a building erected on purpose for its accommodation. It con
tains about 200,000 volumes, chiefly on subjects connected
* Named from Elias Ajshmole, who founded it in 1667.

Oxford. 93
with the natural sciences, embracing also Natural History,
Medicine, Voyages and Travels. It is rich in Pereian, Arabic,
and Sanscrit manuscripts. The library has a grand dome.
There is an interesting collection of statues, busts, and pic
tures, and many miscellaneous objects ; among them is a large
and elegantly mounted collection of polished marbles and other
stones, including a great variety ; there are 1000 pieces, each
about six inches long, three broad, and two thick. We ascended
outside to the gallery of the dome, and enjoyed an extensive view
of this city of colleges, and of the rich and beautiful country by
which it is surrounded, but we saw it extensively deluged owing
to the excessive rains. Our progress through the Radcliffe library
was facilitated by a person of the most respectable appearance
— in the dress of a gentleman, who was so well acquainted
with the books and the other artities in the. library, and so
courteous and intelligent, that I whispered to my companion
that it would not answer to offer this man money, and we had
parted at the door with simply the usual civilities and our
thanks ; but it occurred to me that it would be the safer way
to offer a gratuity, which was promptly accepted. Thus I
found, that in this particular there is no change in English
customs since my former visit. A stranger at Oxford finds use
for no inconsiderable number of shillings in a morning walk
over the public rooms : almost every apartment has its own
guide, and each guide expects his gratuity. In justice to Eng
land, I add, that we met with only one instance on the Conti
nent where money was refused. It was at Lyons. An in
genious mechanical invention had been exhibited, when money
was refused by the person who showed it to us, and evidently
with the appearance of disturbed feelings.
General Remarks. — There are in the University nineteen
colleges and five halls. The colleges are on foundations of
property : the halls are but partially endowed, or not at all. In
my former visit, May 1805, I remarked: " Oxford is a place
of great grandeur and beauty. The whole town has an unri
valled air of magnificence and dignity. No place ever impress-

94 Oxford.
ed me with such feelings of admiration and awe. Instead of
the narrow and dirty lanes of trading towns, and the confused
noise of commerce, there are spacious and quiet streets, with
fine houses of stone, built in very good taste. But what pro
duces the principal effect is the great number of academic build
ings, in a style of much grandeur, and rendered venerable by
strong marks of antiquity. The effect is very much heighten
ed by the frequent avenues of lofty trees, and by the associa
tions naturally connected with a university which claims Alfred
the Great as its founder."
As Oxford then appeared to me, so it appears still ; but the
impression being no longer novel, was less vivid, and I was now
more strongly impressed with the mutilations that time has
made upon these venerable structures. Delicate ornaments on
the outside of the buildings are much injured, and even faces
and heads that were originally mounted upon porticos, gate
ways, cornices, &c, are so dilapidated that they are no longer
ornamental. But these external injuries seemed to set off, by
contrast, the freshness and perfection which we still find in the
interior of these time-honored buildings. Their chapels and
halls, often splendid with Gothic arches and elaborate carving
and modelling, and rich with stained glass, remain as proud
monuments of the skill of past centuries, and of the liberal de
votion of wealth to religion and learning. The tender oolite is
the material which has suffered so much from time. Its great
abundance in England, and the ease with which it is obtained
and wrought, have caused it to be generally used in architec
ture, instead of those more permanent materials that are rare
in England, although abundant in America.
Monument to Ridley, Latimer, and Cranmer. — The
grand monument erected in 1841, called the Martyrs' Memo
rial, to the memory of Ridley, Latimer, and Cranmer, is one of
the most interesting objects in Oxford. It is 73 feet high, and
stands in St. Giles'-street, near the place where these venerable
witnesses to the truth were burned for the crime of heresy.
The incription is : " To the glory of God, and in grateful com-

Oxford. 95
memoration of his servants — Thomas Cranmer, Nicholas Rid
ley, Hugh Latimer, Prelates of the Church of England, who,
near this spot, yielded their bodies to be burned, bearing wit
ness to the sacred truths which they had affirmed and maintain
ed against the errors of the Church of Rome ; and rejoicing that
, to them was given, not only to believe in Christ, but also to
suffer for his sake, this monument was erected by public sub
scription in the year of our Lord mdcccxli." They were burned
in 1555. The Oxford dereliction of the principles of the Re
formation, in little accordance with this monument, is still going
on ; and Dr. Pusey is himself, as I was credibly informed, en
gaged in hearing confessions, and is even more zealous than
ever in propagating his own peculiar views.
Oxford, as is well known, adhered strenuously to the Royal
cause during the controversy between the king and the parlia
ment and Cromwell. This city in the progress of the civil war
became the head-quarters of Charles and the cavaliers ; from
its walls they issued to battle, and generally to sustain disaster
and defeat from Cromwell and his -indomitable bands of hardy
yeomen, trained under the rigorous discipline of their lion-
hearted leader. Some portions of the towers and walls of Ox
ford of that day remain as memorials of the past.
The city of Oxford has more than doubled its numbers since
1805. Then they were 12,000 ; now, including all its institu
tions, there are 27,000 ; thus it has partaken of the general
thrift of the kingdom.
The distance from London is 54 to 58 miles, according as
the measurement is made on one road or another.

96 Return to London.

!*tatt to f 0nkn.
March 23, 1851.
Our party went to-day to London, passing through one of
the most beautiful countries in the world. Even at this early
season it is rich in verdure, and the fields are every where in
high cultivation. The system of irrigation appears to be ex
tensively practised, the water, where the situation admits of it,
being led over the ground in slender rills. The beauty of
the fields was so intense, and for long distances, quite to the
limit of distinct vision, that we were often held in admiration.
Beautiful as England appeared to me when all was new to
my eyes, it appeared even still more lovely now. In the rapid
flight of the cars, it was impossible to retain the names of
towns and villages ; but one magnificent object loomed upon
our right, at the 'distance of a few miles — Windsor Castle, with
its princely towers. The associations with Windsor Castle are
of the most interesting kind ; and nothing can surpass the
richness of the prospect. The venerable Eaton Hall is also at
the foot of the hill, and with the adjoining plain, on which his
house stood, the memory of the elder Herschell is indissolubly
associated. Entrance to London from the West. — The extensive
station-house at the terminus, on the West of London, is in a
region which was quite in the country in my early time here ;
and we drove from it through streets that are principally
new since that period. Then the Edgeware road was the ex
treme limit of London, at the end of Oxford-street, and beyond
Hyde Park. Now the Edgeware road is far within the city ;
and as we approached the region with which I had been best
acquainted, we passed through Regent-street and the Crescent,
which are entirely new. I have already remarked, that in
place of the intersection of Parliament or Whitehall-street with
the Strand, we now find a splendid open area called Trafal-

London. 97
gar Square. This square is not in verdure like most of the
squares of London, but is entirely paved with flat hammered
stone-work, in which spouting fountains play into stone basins.
In the centre of the front of the square is the lofty column al
ready named, crowned with the colossal statue of Nelson in
full naval uniform, and wearing a three-cornered cocked hat.
Almost at his feet is the old, and comparatively diminutive,
equestrian statue of Charles I. In the rear is a colossal eques
trian statue of George IV., and at some distance south and west
one of George III. All these equestrian statues are of Bronze.
There is also a statue of the late Duke of York, on a marble pil
lar, similar both in the material and in the effect to that of
Nelson. That a splendid naval commander, who had been successful
in so many terrible and sanguinary battles, in crises deemed
by his countrymen to be those of extreme peril to the national
safety, should receive the honor of a colossal statue, mounted
on a column proudly eminent above every other statue of the
metropolis, is not extraordinary. It is, however, always to be
regretted when a blaze of public fame becomes a cover for seri
ous personal immorality, as in another example.
Perhaps it is not extraordinary, that in a countiy with mo
narchical and aristocratical institutions, honor should be render
ed to departed kings and princes ; but it is unfortunate when
it is thus rendered to those who have little or no claim beside.
George III., by his obstinacy, lost the American colonies ; for
it is now notorious that the atrocious slaughter of his Ameri
can subjects during eight years, and of his own troops, in perpe
trating those domestic massacres, was persevered in by the inflexi
ble will of George III., and was not chargeable to his ministers
alone. Whence, then, his claims to a statue ? Every difficulty
with the colonies might have been amicably settled, and with'
mutual advantage, had there been wisdom and moderation in
the king and parliament. George IV. was through his whole
life a profligate, and performed no public service for his coun
try, or for mankind, while his private example was noxious ;
Vol. l — 5

98 London.
and if his persecuted queen deserved a public trial, he deserved
it much more. The Duke of York had the same moral taint ;
and he lost the greater part of a fine British army in the disas
trous expedition to Walcheren, being compelled to retreat be
fore disease and the French legions. Statues should be reserv
ed for persons of distinguished merit, or who have rendered
important services to their country or to mankind. Westmin
ster Abbey and St. Paul's Cathedral respond to this sentiment.
While our party made their home at Morley's, in Trafalgar
Square, I accepted the proffered hospitality of my friend, Dr.
Mantell, at his house in Chester Square ; his interesting con
versation and kindly manner, with the rich collection of ob
jects of nature and art in his mansion, made it a very delight
ful abode, and I shall say more of it hereafter.
Arrangements — Impressions of Old Scenes. — With
our noble-hearted minister, Mr. Lawrence, who greeted us as
friends, we made all necessary arrangements for Paris. He
is prompt to aid his countrymen, whether known to him before,
or not, and his official services are rendered with hearty good
will. With the Barings, also, whose fame and credit are coex
tensive with the civilized world, we arranged all pecuniary
concerns, by establishing connections with bankers in all coun
tries and cities to which we expected to travel.
In passing to the Barings, in Bishopgate-street, we traversed
the Strand, Fleet-street, Ludgate Hill, Cheapside, and Cornhill,
a part of London with which I was formerly very familiar.
There I found myself very much at home, as there was com
paratively little change.
Two churches, as formerly, stand in the Strand, but the fa
mous old St. Dunstan's is taken down and rebuilt ; the bronze
giants that formerly looked down upon the passers-by, and
with their ponderous clubs struck the hour upon the bell, are
gone, having been purchased by a nobleman, and removed to
one of the parks.
St. Paul's Cathedral rises as magnificent as formerly, but it

London. 99
seems more dingy with smoke than ever. Bow Church re
mains, and the sound of its bells still designates, as I suppose,
the limits of the cockney range. The Bank of England is
where I left it, and so is the Lord Mayor's palace, but the Ex
change is new, that of Elizabeth's time having been destroyed
by fire, with all its solemn array of the statues of kings and
queens, which, from the niches in the walls, seemed intent on
watching the movements of the merchants on 'Change.
A new Exchange, in the Grecian style, on a much grander
scale, now replaces the old one.
The Crystal Palace. March 29. — Into this wonderful
and imposing structure we have to-day merely made our en
trance. As we drove along the eastern side of Hyde Park, on
a bright and beautiful morning, the splendid vision caught our
eyes, as the sunlight was thrown wide around by this immense
mii-ror. It was merely a glance that we took on this occasion,
reserving more deliberate observation for future opportunities.
It was not accessible, as yet, to visitors, but by particular
favor, through an introduction to one of the managers, we were
admitted into the interior. It has become so familiar, in all
its aspects, to the whole world, that at this date, after its com
plete development, any detailed description would be out of
place. The general impression made upon us, by our walks
through this stupendous conservatory of the arts, was that of
great splendor and magnificence. It appeared a fairy palace,
like the creations of fable ; a building equally unique and .origi
nal in its structure ; original, also, in its bearing upon the con
cord and amicable rivalry of nations ; in this respect, of most
auspicious tendency, and, therefore, highly honorable to the
amiable and benevolent character of the Prince, under whose
auspices it has arisen. Already the consignments of the world
are coming in, and to a great extent have actually arrived.
African Tunis sends its contributions, and even more remote
countries are beginning to occupy the large space allotted to
them. The palace is so high as to cover several of the largo

100 London.
trees of Hyde Park, where it is erected ; and we saw, not with
out a shudder, a man dangling in the air at the end of a rope
near the roof, at the height of eighty feet. He had been drawn
up simply by holding on the end of the rope by his hands, and
was whirled around and around, until he reached a plank
almost in the angle of the roof, where at last he was safely
landed. Thus we leave, for the present, this wonder of wonders,
hoping to find it, on our return, filled with the productions of
the world. All arrangements are so far advanced that it will
doubtless be ready to open at the appointed day.
Soiree at Dr. Mantell's. — The evening was rendered very
instructive and agreeable, by Dr. Mantell's kindness. Aided by
his nephew, Mr. Woodhouse, he exhibited the powers of his
large Ross microscope in revealing the structure of minute or
ganisms. We examined, especially, the minute shells in chalk
(called polythalamia). By the aid of acids in removing the
lime, the peculiar structure of these curious organisms is per
fectly developed. Infinitesimal beings were enveloped for ages
in a deposit, which, at the time they were living, was beneath
the sea, although during other ages, following on in the long
roll of time, it has been dry land.- In the entertainment ofthe
evening we were aided by a very intelligent lady and her
daughter from Clapham, Dr. Mantell's former residence.
His principal microscope was presented to him by his
Clapham friends, at an expense of 100 guineas, as an acknow
ledgment of his disinterested efforts to spread a taste for scien
tific pursuits among the inhabitants of that village.
Temple Bar. — Temple Bar, in the Strand, is the only one
of the ancient gates of London that is maintained, and it is to
be hoped that it will not be removed. It was once a part of
the fine of defence, when London was surrounded by a wall,
but is maintained chiefly in relation to the admission of the
monarchs into the city, after their coronation. A splendid
pageant, preceded by the proper officers, in ancient costume,
appears at the gate, and with great form demands admission

London. 101
for his or her majesty to the good city of London. Admis
sion is granted with equal formality, and the Royal cortege
passes from Westminster into London.*
Church of the Crusaders. March 30. — The Knights
Templars had an establishment in London as early as the reign
of Stephen, and it was removed to its present location in the
reign of Henry II. Just within Temple Bar, down a narrow
alley, is the now revived and beautiful church of the Knights
Templars of Jerusalem. The building is about 600 years old.
The once splendid dome and walls had been, age after age,
whitewashedf until its elegant colored frescoes had all been
covered. But it has been restored, at an enormous expense
(£80,000 it is said), and its superb Mediaeval decorations have
been again brought to light.
We attended worship here to-day, it being Sunday. The
service was very long ; the prayers, with the responses, occu
pied one hour and a half, and then followed the sermon, which,
on account of the reverberation from the arches, was hardly
audible. In the responses, young boys united their clear and
soft voices with those of the people, and were heard above the
rest. After service was over, we saw, with no small emotion,
the figures of the knights in bronze, laid upon their marble
tombs, even with the floor, and surrounded by an iron railing.
As objects of art, they are very beautiful. They are in com
plete armor, helmets, shields, swords, gloves, and spears, all in
* " On such an occasion, the gates are shut to, and the authorities
drawn up within, on the city side. A herald, or other officer of the
king, knocks at the gate and informs the marshal that the king asks
admission. The marshal reports this to the Lord Mayor, who gives
orders that the gate shall be thrown open, and proceeds to offer the
king the city sword. The gate is sometimes strictly kept, for the
Lord Mayor being, within his bounds, second to the king alone, he is
jealous that his precedency of other great personages is preserved."
— London Exhibited, 1851.
f The accidental flaking off of the whitewash first brought to
light again the beautiful ceiling that had been covered by this rude
coating.

102 London.
proper position ; the hand grasping the sword, or placed in
such a posture that the sword could be immediately seized.
They are lying in the warrior's calm and sweet repose.
Their features are perfectly natural, and there seems to be
almost an incipient movement, as if they were about to spring
upon their feet, or prepared to do it at any moment. A few
of these crusaders were veterans, hardy warriors, who had
often looked death in the face ; but the greater number were
young and handsome men, and no doubt many such perished
in conflict, or sank beneath the pressure of fatigue, or gave up
their lives ingloriously to diseases of the camp.
Of this group of recumbent statues, those of the originals,
who had reached Jerusalem, had their legs crossed. The effect
on the beholder is pleasing, but it is solemn and touching. I
have never seen any effigies of warriors, sleeping in death, that
were so interesting, for it was just a scene of warriors armed,
cap-a-pie, and taking their repose. This church is regarded as
a masterpiece of architecture, for the age to which it belongs.
It is not of large dimensions. The rotunda is 58 feet in
the interior diameter, and the choir 58 feet by 82. The height
of the lantern is 60 feet.
Our party were not a little annoyed, both here and else
where in England, by the venality of the church vergers, whose
rudeness to strangers can be appeased only by the shilling, so
potent a charm to all classes of menials in England. However
proper such demands may be on ordinary occasions, they
should, for the national honor, be banished from the house of
God, and from the sacred hours of the Christian Sabbath. It is
unworthy of the glory of England, that her great national
churches should be shown for a sixpence.
Service in Westminster Abbey. March 30. — In the
afternoon we attended Westminster Abbey, where the service
was chanted, as in the morning at the Knights' Templars. This
immense temple was very cold and cheerless ; — no annoyance
indeed, to the dead who slumber there, but comfortless, and
even dangerous, to the living. There was a promiscuous group

London. 103
gathered in the centre, of people apparently of the middle
class of society ; neither the features nor the dress of the audi
ence indicated any thing more ; but they were decorous and
attentive to a very good sermon on the regulation of the pas
sions, pronounced by an aged and venerable man ; but being
still vigorous, and having a powerful and well modulated voice,
he was distinctly heard amidst the reverberations of these lofty
arches. The columns resembled vast stalactites, adorned by
fretted work in the roof; and it required but a small effort of
the imagination to transport the observer to the immense na
tural temple — the mammoth cave of Kentucky, where, in Sep
tember, 1850, service was actually performed, and hymns were
sung in a temple not made with hands. The service was con
ducted regularly by a clergyman of the Episcopal church, and
a part of the friends now with me were then present.
In Westminster Abbey, the circumstances of the occasion
did not now permit me to pay much attention to the monuments,
some of which, however, I recognized as having been here at
the time of my former residence in London.
British Museum. March 31. — We passed several hours
this morning in this now magnificent national establish
ment. It is still in, or rather contiguous to, and covering
much of, Russell Square, as in 1805, but il is entirely reno
vated. My son had been there on Saturday, and had an in
terview with Mr. Watts, one of the librarians, who is him
self a living Polyglot, as he speaks 27 languages. I will not
in this connection withhold a personal circumstance of some
interest to myself, relating to my former travels in England.
Mr. Watts stepped up a ladder to a high shelf, and brought
down a work in three volumes, which, he said, they had only
recently obtained. In it, he remarked, is contained the best
account of the British Museum, as it was at the time when the
book was written (1805-6) ; and, he added, that only two ac
counts of the museum had at that time been published by trav
ellers, and this account was one of the two. In reply to his

104 London.
commendation, I remarked, that the notice was brief ; but, he
rejoined, that it was exact and comprehensive.
The edifice containing the British Museum, as I saw it in
1805, was of brick ; and the area in front was then filled with
Egyptian antiques, being spoils gathered by Napoleon, and
assembled at Alexandria preparatory to their transportation to
France. They were there captured by the British army, under
General Abercrombie, and taken to the museum during my
former residence in London.
I now found a grand building of stone, forming a vast
quadrangle of 2000 feet, or nearly two-fifths of a mile in circuit.
It occupies a large part of Great Russell Square, and is even
now, in its enlarged form, quite inadequate for the growing de
mands for space in all departments.
I had only time to pass rapidly through several of its rooms,
and cannot undertake to give any complete account of their
contents. A few things, however, we did see with great satis
faction, and which I will briefly mention.
Here is a rich collection of Etruscan vases, from the ceme
teries of the ancient inhabitants of Italy, who preceded the Ro
man empire. A part of this collection was deposited by the
Prince de Canino, son of Lucien Bonaparte. The Maltese are
now the only people who fabricate ware like the ancient Etrus
can. Through the kind introduction of our countryman, Mr.
Henry Stevens, to Mr. Vaux, a gentleman attached to the mu
seum, we were permitted to see the original Portland Vase.
It is of moderate dimensions. The material, contrary to my
former impression, is glass, and not earthenware. The basis
was dark blue, almost black, and in the manner of the modern
Bohemian glass, it appears to have been dipped into a semi-
transparent white enamel, which gave it an exterior coating of
that color. This was then cut away, so as to leave the exqui
sitely wrought figures of the human form by which it is adorn
ed. It was successfully imitated by the late Mr. Wedgwood, in
his peculiar porcelain, but it has never been surpassed in beau
ty of model, or in the_ perfection of its decorations. Mr. Wedg-

London. 105
wood's copies cost 50 pounds each, which, even with a large sub
scription, did not reimburse him. Mr. Webber, the artist, received
50 pounds for modelling it.* The original was discovered in the
tomb of Alexander Severus, who died as early as the year 235,
and the Duchess of Portland paid 1000 guineas for it ; hence it
was called the Portland Vase. It will appear incredible that
any one should be willing to destroy such a gem of art ; still, a
few years ago, a man who was believed to be either drunk or
insane (very probably both) hurled a stone at it, and shivered
the beautiful antique into fragments. A fac-simile of the vase,
as it lay in ruins, is preserved in a glazed frame in the room.
But by great care and skill, the fragments have been reunited,
and cemented together, so that the joinings can be perceived
only by a near approach.f The culprit was imprisoned for
two years ; and a law being afterwards made to fit such cases
{ex post facto, perhaps), he is, I believe, not yet liberated, and,
certainly, ought not to be without satisfactory evidence of a
sounder state of mind.
Ornaments of Gold. — In the same room with the Port
land Vase is a rich collection of antique ornaments in gold.
They are personal ornaments — Etruscan, Roman, British, Sax
on, Norman, Scotch, and Irish. Among them are elegant forms
— rings, bracelets, girdles, tiaras, brooches, &c. They are in ap
pearance as rich and bright as if made yesterday ; and evince
that in ages long past both the value of gold and the manner
of working it were well understood. Some of these things
were found in graves, some in morasses, and, probably, some
on battle fields.
Monuments of Ancient Nineveh. — Mr. Vaux also showed
us the colossal monuments of stone, disinterred by the labors of
Mr. Layard, and brought from ancient Nineveh.
The bull and the lion, each with the wings of an eagle, and
the face of a man, symbolical of strength, courage, speed, and
* Park's Chemical Essays, Vol. II., p. 86.
\ For a figure of this vase, and also of the Warwick Vase, see
American Journal of Science and Arts, XVI., p. 354r-5.
Vol. t.— 5*

106 London.
intelligence, are at present in the lower room, along with the
two gigantic figures in human form, each being originally
divided transversely above the waist. It is now intended to
reunite them, when the Nineveh figures receive their final
position in the museum. These stupendous pieces of primeval
sculpture fill the observer with astonishment, both that they
could ever have been constructed, and that they should ever
have been extricated from their long forgotten sepulchres, and
transported, without the slightest injury, from a position far in
land, across wide oceans, to this distant country, which did not
begin to emerge from barbarism until ages after the very site
of Nineveh had passed into oblivion. These colossal forms are
so vast in their dimensions, that man, by the side of them,
appears a pigmy ; and still they were shaped by human
hands, which for thousands of years have crumbled into dust,
while their works remain fresh and perfect as when first finish
ed by the chisel of the now long-forgotten artist. Our polite
conductor also accompanied us to a lower room, in which are
stored a great number of the alabaster panels of Nineveh. They
are very large, and are covered by figures in relief, bold and
perfect ; scenes of war and of peace, figures of master and ser
vant, of monarch and subject, of warrior and soldier, and of victor
and prisoner. In fact, they are exactly such figures as are re
presented in the published volumes of Mr. Layard, the illustra
tions in which are in no degree exaggerated, but, on the con
trary, the figures are copied with the most scrupulous exact
ness. A hall is in preparation for these precious relics of an
age coeval with the dawn of art and civilization, and of which,
as extended to our time, the entire Christian era forms but an
integral part. At first view, it appears very surprising that
they have escaped through thirty or forty centuries without in
jury ; and this is the more remarkable, as they are composed
of so soft a material as alabaster. It would certainly have been
worn and corroded by the hand of time had it not been pro
tected by the mildness of the climate, and still" more by the
position of these sculptures, cut off from the atmosphere, and

Changes — Progress. 107
buried in the crumbled, dry earth, of the buildings when they
were destroyed.
Townley Marbles. — I found in the British Museum those
identical ancient statues, which attracted my attention when I
was here in my youth : they were then in Mr. Townley's
house in St. James's Park, but had been already purchased for
the- British Museum, where they are now permanently deposit
ed. Here stand those true antiques, those veritable produc
tions of the Roman and Grecian chisel, uninjured in their sub
stance, although tarnished by time.

Indeed, while opening my eyes again upon England, I seem
to myself to have been awakened like Rip Van Winkle, from
a long oblivion, from a sleep of more than twice twenty years ;
or to have returned like the genii of Arabian tales, after a
still longer lapse of time, and to find such changes, that in
many places I should not suspect that I had ever been there
before. In my own comparatively young country, rapid and great
changes are, of course, to be expected ; but in this old country,
which has been civilized for a thousand years, we might with
more probability, expect to find all things to continue as they
were. It is however not so ; science and art have, in this age;
and in this country, given a wonderful impulse to the human
mind ; and their results, joined with those of a higher moral in
tellectual and philanthropic character, are already such as no
human sagacity could have foreseen, nor can we even now
discern the extent of the career of progress which may be
coming. A more extended observation, both in England and
in other countries, may enable me to judge more correctly on
this subject ; but for the present I will illustrate my positions
by only a few instances.

108 Changes — Progress.
Courtesy of Manners in Public Places. — In 1805,
and long after, an admirable system of travelling by stage
coaches and post chaises* was in full operation over excellent
roads. Civility from the servants was generally purchased,
however, by gratuities, unpleasant in the recollection, and an
noying from a conviction that you could never do enough to
satisfy the expectant, while the regular native traveller. often felt
that you had done too much.
But now that railroads are introduced all over these king
doms, the modes of travelling on the great thoroughfares are
totally changed.
After mentioning the vast superiority of railroad travelling,
as regards speed and convenience, nothing strikes one more
than the attention paid to the traveller's safety and comfort, by
the agents upon these roads. They are very vigilant to prevent
the mistakes into which a traveller is liable to fall — to protect his
baggage as well as his person, and in every way, to promote
his comfort ; and all this with the most courteous and respect
ful manners, without the usual mercenaiy motives of servants
who expect a reward. This they are, by the most stringent
regulations (every where painted in white letters on black
boards, and posted up in full view), prevented from receiving,
and the traveller is earnestly enjoined, not to offer them anv
gratuity whatever. That the stranger may more readily know
whom to call upon, these men are moreover distinguished by
a blue dress, trimmed usually with white or red lace. On ar
riving at your stopping place, one of the officials procures a
carriage for you, will see that your baggage is committed
to proper persons, and that you are not imposed upon in the
price you are to pay the coachman.
Change of Treatment at the British Museum. — For
merly the museum was not open to the public, and it was not
easy to obtain admittance at all. It was necessary to apply
* Dr. Johnson, when riding in a JPost Chaise with Mr. Boswell,
exclaimed, that there were "few better things in life."

Departure for the Continent. 109
beforehand through some influential friend, and to have your
name entered in advance, and even when admitted, after such
inconvenient formality, you were hurried through with impa
tient haste, as only two hours were allotted for all the rooms,
and you were hardly allowed to realize your interest in some
thing that had attracted your attention, before you were re
minded by your guide, and not always very courteously, that
the time for that particular room was up, and you must hasten
on to another, and still another, until your two hours were ex
hausted. If there were 12 rooms (and I believe there were
more), you could have only ten minutes to a room, and you
were not permitted, except by special favor, to linger where
you found most to interest you. Being, on one occasion, in
the museum with a late eminent professor of Botany in Harvard
University, and he being not one of the most patient, although
he was one of the most intelligent of men, was so much
chafed by these narrow rules, that he uttered no very cordial
.blessing upon John Bull. Were he now however here, he
would find every thing changed. The museum with all its
treasures is thrown wide open to the public, which includes all
well dressed and decent people, whether British subjects or
strangers. All come and go as they please, and all the officers
are courteous and attentive to make every thing agreeable and
useful. The visits may be repeated at pleasure, and the ob
server may linger as long as he pleases in any department.

$tprta» tor \\t tfrntthttnt. March 31, 18B1.
Our kind friend, Dr. Mantell, added to our introductions for
the continent, various letters and cards to his friends in Paris
and Geneva ; and another friend, Mr. Henry Stevens, our country
man — the well known sagacious and successful collector of rare
and valuable books and MSS. — was so obliging as to arrange
for us our railroad affairs. He attended us also over London

110 Departure for the Continent.
Bridge to the Station House, and at 8 o'clock p. m. we were in
motion for Folkstone, on the coast of Kent, 80 miles from
London. Much to our regret our transit was in the dark, but
sleep came to my relief, for the English cars of the first class
are so fully padded and cushioned, and divided into separate
seats, with supports for the head and arms, that to sleep is as
easy as it is agreeable. The light is central in the roof of the
coach, and a curtain drawn beneath it protects the eyes.
I was glad when a full stop of the train awakened me to
consciousness, and announced to us that we had arrived at
Folkstone. The Pavilion, an ample and good hotel, afforded us a
welcome home ; midnight found us in our beds, and all was
quiet till morning.
Passage to France. April 1. — A small but snug and
rapid steamer (a mere cock-boat compared with our gallant
Baltic) took us at 9 o'clock out of an artificial harbor ; while
the town receded from our view — the sooner, as it is situated"
chiefly in a hollow or comb between two hills, forming a part
of the cliffs of chalk that run N. E. towards Dover.
We had hardly time to realize that we were leaving Eng
land, when the clearing away of a fog disclosed to our view
the coast of France, beginning to loom up in the distance. As
we proceeded, the cliffs of both Dover and Calais became dis
tinctly visible ; numerous sailing ships met the eye ; a steamer
was making out from Dover, and another met us from Bou
logne ; a short chopping sea gave much motion to our small
steamer ; as the swell increased most of our party began to
renew some of the scenes of the Atlantic Ocean, and, as they
thought, with more inconvenience, occasioned both by the pe
culiar form of the waves and the small size of the boat.
This passage is usually dreaded by travellers and with some
reason, for these minute steamers, being pushed out rapidly
into the waves, and not carrying any canvas to steady them,
are very uncomfortable vessels.
Two hours placed us at the wooden pier in Boulogne, and

Boulogne. Ill
as we entered its secure and land-locked harbor, relief came
most acceptably to our suffering companions.

iratop*.
As we approached the coast, the hills around the town rose
agreeably into view, and the tall column erected by the army
of Napoleon, with a bronze statue of the emperor on the top,
arrested our attention. The column is 164 feet high, and the
statue 16 feet. In the summer of 1805, the grand army
(d'Angleterre), then reported in England to have been com
posed of 250,000 men, and admitted to have been 180,000,
was assembled on these heights waiting orders to embark.
There is no doubt that the intention was seriously enter
tained by Napoleon, but its execution was prevented by the coali
tion between Russia, Austria, and England, brought about by
the negotiations of Mr. Pitt, which caused the French emperor
to break up his encampments here, and to march his army into
Germany. I was witness to the intense anxiety felt in England at that
time, particularly in August and September. It gave all Lon
don a serious aspect. All members of military bands were re
quired to hold themselves in constant readiness, and as I travelled
from the Land's End in Cornwall, to the Nore at the mouth of
the Thames, I saw that preparations had been made by piles of
combustibles upon the hills, to give notice of the landing of the
enemy. All vehicles, even those of the farm, were in requisi
tion for the transportation of troops, to bring them from all
quarters promptly to the invaded point.
But Napoleon and his grand army have passed away, and
England remains in security. Her women, like those of Sparta,
have never seen the smoke of an enemy's camp, and almost
800 years have elapsed since the Norman invasion, the last of
any moment which England has experienced. Napoleon

112 Boulogne.
caused a basin to be excavated to contain his flotilla of 2,400
transport boats. It is asserted that the drill of discipline had
become so perfect that 25,000 men could be embarked in 10£
minutes, and again disembarked and drawn up on the shore, in
13 minutes more. It happened to me, in October 1805, to pass
from England to Holland, in one of the gunboats of Napoleon's
flotilla, which had been captured by the English and converted
into a packet. It was then navigated by the Dutch.
Of the almost 30,000 inhabitants of Boulogne, 7,000 are
English. We had only a transit through Boulogne, and of
course there was no opportunity to observe the interesting ob
jects in the place. The aspect of every thing was novel.
There were clumsy black-looking boats plying the harbor —
a peculiar national physiognomy and costume — numerous
soldiers were on the pier, the custom-house officers were
at hand — men and women were ready, but not in a trouble
some manner, to do all sorts of services ; an intelligent commis
sioner speaking English, and proffering needed assistance ; and
there was a polite although exact inspection of our passports.
All this passed rapidly, and our baggage was cleared without
examination, because I was bearer of dispatches from our minis
ter in London to our minister in Paris. We not only had
nothing to complain of, but our reception made an agreeable
impression. We had time for refreshment at the station house, where
English was spoken. Excellent rolls of new bread and sweet
new butter were very acceptable, and at noon, with fine weather,
we were on our way to the Capital.
Boulogne to Paris. — The roads were excellent, and so
were the cars — but over a part of the way there was a swinging
vibratory motion like that of a rolling ship.
Geological sections in the chalk were numerous along the
road. Doubtless the chalk is continuous beneath the channel,
being only an extension of the same formation seen in Eng
land. The channel is indeed only a submerged valley of mod-

Boulogne. 113
erate depth (four to five hundred feet). Once it was, without
doubt, connected as dry land with the continent.
On leaving Boulogne we saw, on our right, hills of sand
stretching along the coast as far as vision could extend.
They were evidently tossed up by the united action of winds
and waves, implying, of course, a sandy sea margin. They re
minded me forcibly of similar accumulations along the coast of
Holland. In that low-lying country they are, on some parts of
the coast, the first objects discerned on coming in from sea, and
appear to rise out of it. These sandy dunes on the French coast
contained small arms or bays of the sea, which were separated
from it by the sandy barrier, and upon these waters fishermen
were plying their boats, forming a small inland fleet of puny
craft. Most ofthe country through which we passed on our ride of
almost 200 miles to Paris was beautiful ; in general it was under
good culture, and as we advanced it became almost a garden,
both in cultivation and beauty. Indeed nothing can exceed the
beauty of much of the rural landscape — not even England it
self; not only the most intense and lively verdure was almost
every where apparent — but as we drew nearer and nearer to
Paris, the country became highly picturesque, with gently
swelling hills and lovely vales.
With the opening spring, cultivation was every where in
progress ; the ploughs and carts were drawn by horses. The
laborers were generally men and boys, but we sometimes ob
served women in the fields.
The vines were beginning to be dressed ; we were told that
they are laid down in winter; hemp was exposed on the ground,
preparatory to extricating the fibre from the wood, and every
thing in the rural prospect indicated peaceful industry.
The villages were numerous. The houses were often hum
ble structures — low, and almost obscured by thatched and grass-
covered roofs. Windmills are numerous in France. There
were more hedge-rows than we had expected to see; we saw no
large trees, but there were numerous avenues of poplars, young,

114 Boulogne.
tall and slender, planted evidently for fuel. Terraces were not
unfrequent, and often a raised mound ran between the fields,
apparently as a dividing boundary between different proprie
tors. In a rapid railroad progress, it is in vain that we attempt
to enumerate villages ; they fly by us and we by them like
shadows, and it is only where there is a station demanding a
few moments of repose that we can say we are here ; for when
we are in motion we can hardly use this expression before we
are somewhere else. At one of the breathing places, we were
allowed to realize that we were in Abbeville, " an industrious
manufacturing town of 17,582 inhabitants." Here is a splen
did cathedral which we saw at a distance. In this place, some
American and English youth have been in early life educated,
and several within my knowledge. Two out of three in ma
ture life ceased to be Protestants and became Catholics ; the
seed sown in the youthful soil at Abbeville lay buried long, but
at last vegetated in America.
At Amiens we made a longer delay, and although we could
not leave the station house, we could see the vast and magnifi
cent Cathedral, and the tall chimneys of the numerous manu
factories. This being a place where several railroads meet, a
splendid station house, chiefly of iron and glass, is provided
for their accommodation. ".Amiens contains 46,129 inhabit
ants," and like Abbeville it stands upon the river Somme,
which is here divided as it passes through the town, into
eleven branches, of great use in turning the wheels of the
manufactories. Peter the hermit was born in this place, and
here was concluded in 1802 under Napoleon the celebrated but
short lived "peace of Amiens."*
At Amiens, the conductors and other officers of the rail
roads wore a blue uniform, and their deportment was gentle
manly, with a kind and obliging manner.
* By Joseph Buonaparte for France ; Lord Cornwallis for Eng
land ; Chevalier Azura for Spain, and M. Schimmelpennick for Hol
land.

Paris. 115
As we drew near to Paris, St. Denis appeared on our right ;
it was in former times the burial place of the French monarchs,
but in the fury of the early periods of the French revolution the
sepulchres were sacrilegiously rifled of their poor remains.
After a delightful day, the sun, which had risen upon us in
England, now sunk in the west at the moment we were passing
through the gate of St. Denis, in the wall built by Louis
Philippe, and in a moment more we were in Paris.
Our dispatches again cleared our baggage with only a slight
notice, and on emerging from the door of the building, we met
our faithful friend and correspondent, Mr. Hector Bossange.

April 1, 1851.
Thus happy was our entrance into Paris under the guid
ance of an experienced Parisian gentleman, well known also
on the other side of the Atlantic, and wherever known, beloved
for his benevolence, and esteemed for his noble spirit of active
usefulness. An omnibus conveyed us through the swarming streets of
the French capital to the temporary home engaged for us by
our friend. It was in the Hotel des Princes, Rue Richelieu,
near the Boulevard des Italiens.
There were reserved for our party four bed-rooms and a
neat and genteel parlor, all on the third floor, as we should
say at home, the first as they style them here. The price for
the rooms and attendance was seven dollars a day ; and our
food we were to obtain in the house, or at a restaurant, at our
pleasure. Thus you can live more cheaply or luxuriously as
you choose. We arrived in early evening twilight ; and, after a
slight repast, some of us made our first excursion, which was
into the Boulevard des Italiens.
The Boulevards, within the city, are on the site of the an
cient walls of Paris, which were demolished in 1670 by order

116 Paris.
of Louis XIV. ; and the space which they occupied has thus
become a spacious street and promenade, retaining only in its
name, (rampart,) an allusion to its origin.
The Boulevard des Italiens is the most splendid in Paris ;
and it being now evening, the shops, lighted by gas, made a
most brilliant appearance. Rich productions of the arts adorn
ed their windows. We could not resist the attraction of
one that was filled with the most perfectly beautiful clocks, the
figures on which, chiefly small gilded statuary, were wonderfully
diversified in their forms, and both designed and executed with
the utmost elegance and grace.
The side walks on the Boulevards are so wide that, in fine
weather, innumerable loungers occupy the chairs, which are
arranged in groups, and for the use of which they pay two
sous. The Boulevard was thronged on this fine evening with plea
sure carriages, and its promenades with pedestrians of both
sexes. Most of them had the tranquil air of people walking for
amusement, and not the anxious features and hurried gait of
Broadway, in New- York, and of the thoroughfares of other
American cities. The Boulevards present a scene of great ani
mation, and the cafes and restaurants, blazing with light, and
alive with people, are a moving panorama.
Poblic Walks and Grounds. April 2 to 8. — We have
now seen the principal public walks and grounds — the Place
de la Concorde, formerly the Place- de la Revolution, the
Champs Elysees, the Champ de Mars, the Gardens of the Lux
embourg and of the Tuileries, the Garden of Plants, the grounds
of the Louvre and Carrousel ; those of the Ecole Militaire and
of the Hospital of the Invalids, and also other areas of ornament
and pleasure, which are more limited in extent.
These grounds are generally occupied by trees, which will
soon be covered with leaves, that are now just beginning to
put forth. The ancient trees have been cut down in the various
struggles of war and revolution ; therefore all the trees here,
except the cedar of Lebanon, and perhaps a few others in the

Paris. 117
Garden of Plants, are small, and much resemble the second and
third growth of our forests, after the primeval forests have been
cut off.
The Parisian grounds are truly magnificent, both for extent
and ornament. Grand palaces, and other buildings of massive
architecture, and many of them ancient, arrest the attention on
every side. The grounds are adorned by innumerable statues
of the gods and goddesses of Heathen fable — Neptune, Tritons,
Nereids, Nymphs, Bacchus and Venus, figures of animals, lions,
<fec, meet you on every side. They are generally colossal, and
are often mounted upon pedestals.
Many of these statues are arranged around fountains, whose
jets rise and fall in refreshing showers, and agitate flowir%
basins of water. Sometimes the water runs from the mouths
of lions, at other times froin perforations in the rim of a vast
basin, and again female figures hold in their arms dolphins,
from whose mouths the water gushes and spouts more appro
priately than from a lion's jaws.
Place de la Concorde. — This place is of vast dimensions,
and is extremely grand. The ancient and venerable column
of Luxor is erected in the centre, on a high pedestal. This
granite shaft is, doubtless, older than any human records, except
those which it contains, still fresh and distinct, cut on the beau
tiful red granite. It is a monolyth, and the inscription records
Sesostris as the founder, 1550 years before Christ, or 3400
years ago. It was given by the Egyptian government to
France, was transported at an expense of 400,000 dollars,
and erected October 5, 1836, in presence of Louis Philippe and
his family, and also of the public functionaries, and of 130,000
people. The height of the column is 72 feet 3 inches ; breadth
at the base, 7 feet 6 inches, and its weight is 500,000 pounds.
The total height of the plinth and pedestal is 27 feet. This
place has been the scene of many tragical events. During the
rejoicings in honor of the marriage of Louis XVI, a panic, oc
casioned by the fireworks, caused the death of 1200 persons,
by trampling, and 2000 more were wounded.

118 Paris.
The Bastille, which stood in a remote part of the city, was
destroyed in consequence of a collision which took place here
between the military and the people. Louis XVI. was guillo
tined here January 24, 1793, and his queen, Marie Antoinette,
October 16 ; the Duke of Orleans, March 24, 1794. Up to
May 3, 1795, 2800 persons had been executed here, including
many men who had figured in the Revolution ; — Robespierre,
Clootz, Brissot, Danton, and many other leaders.
In 1814, the invading armies were reviewed here. Louis
Philippe, in his flight, by the western gate of the Tuileries,
passed through this square ; and here the Constitution (then
new) was proclaimed, Nov. 4, 1848.
a A vivid impression of grandeur and richness is produced by
a view of .these public grounds ; and it is difficult to realize that
blood has flowed here in torrents, in places that now appear so
peaceful and beautiful.
In the direction towards and beyond the Elysian Fields, the
grand triumphal arch of Napoleon is visible ; and in the Car
rousel we see, mounted on another triumphal arch, the group
of horses that have been, since the downfall of Napoleon, sub
stituted for those that were plundered from the Cathedral of
San Marco, in Venice.
Above all surrounding objects rises, in the Place Vendome,
near to the Place de la Concorde, the magnificent bronze
column crowned by the statue of Napoleon. This column is
135 feet high, 12 feet in diameter, and weighs 300,000 pounds.
It is composed of the metal from 1200 brass cannon taken
from the Russians and Prussians in the campaign of 1805.
The bas-reliefs on the pedestal represent the armor, uniform,
and weapons of the conquered troops. On the pedestal are
represented the principal actions from the time the troops lefi
Boulogne to the battle of Austerlitz. The figures are of half
size, 2000 in number. They run spirally around the shaft, and
the scroll containing them is 840 feet long. The figure of Na
poleon is eleven feet high. The column is modelled after thai
of Trajan at Rome, and is one-twelfth larger.

Paris. 119
The statue of Napoleon in imperial robes was melted down
in 1814 to form a part ofthe equestrian statue of Henry IV., but
was replaced by Louis Philippe, May 1, 1832, clad in military
costume, shrouded by crape. From the summit of the monu
ment, which is reached by a spiral staircase, there is a splendid
view of the capital, and admission is obtained through one of
Napoleon's veterans, who keeps the door.
It was a very weak and illiberal feeling, which induced
the attempt to dishonor Napoleon's memory by taking down
his statue, and by cutting out the letter N from the mile stones
and other monuments commemorative of his power. It was
not only impossible thus to obliterate from the minds of the
people the memory of their great Emperor, but the very effort
tended only to perpetuate the remembrance of one, who having
been in fact their splendid leader during almost twenty years,
had already passed into the monumental records of history,
where, with all his astonishing traits, he must ever remain in
bold and conspicuous relief.
Hotel des Invalides, Champ de Mars. — In a ride with
our friend, Mr. Bossange, to the fountain of Grenelle, we passed
both these places. In the Champ de Mars, an immense field,
between the Ecole Militaire and the city, we saw several
thousand infantry of the regular army, engaged at their
drill. The area of ground is large enough for 50,000 men,
and the different corps now distributed about it, here and
there, looked like the disjointed fragments of a great army after
a battle. They wore the usual fatigue dress of the French
army, red pantaloons, under a tightly fitted blue frock, belted
around the waist.
The interfering sounds of the many voices of the different
captains, giving aloud the word of command, produced, in the
air, an incessant discordant hum, and the ear could not be ir
attentive to the confusion, while the eye glanced rapidly o^
the different squadrons.
Here Napoleon often reviewed his armies, and this cele
brated field is strongly associated with his memory.

120 Paris.
There is no part of the population of Paris which strikes
me so painfully as the young soldiers. It is asserted that there
are now in the different stations, in and around Paris, 150,000
men under arms, and we meet them constantly in the streets.
There are among them very few men with silvered hair ; most
of them are young, the greater part very young ; and their
situation is most undesirable.
I am assured, on high authority, that they receive five sous,
or cents, a day ; four are taken for their support, and seven
cents a week remain ; so that all that the soldier has to expect
is merely to exist, with the chance of being slain in battle, or
shot for desertion.
Many of them have vacant and discontented faces, ex
pressive of very little intelligence.
The Hotel des Invalides was instituted under Louis XIV.,
and is a hospital for the invalids and veterans who have passed
beyond the ability to do military duty. Many of the old soldiers
were walking about, or sitting idle, with a vacant air, and not
a few of them with broken health and mutilated limbs. One,
who had both legs replaced by wood, was sitting by the gate,
and being asked where he lost his limbs, he replied, " In
Russia ;" by the cold ? " No ; by the cannon ! "
As the Russian campaign terminated nearly forty years
ago, of course all the survivors are old men, and some are in
extreme old age, tottering towards the grave.
I was so strongly impressed by similar scenes at Chelsea
Hospital,1 near London, in 1805, that I wrote as follows : "But
the life of a common soldier is in every part of it deplorable.
His pay is a song, his service is severe, his privations are great,
his dangers frequent and imminent, his death undistinguished
and unlamented, and if he survive, his old age is dependent,
vacant, and miserable."
Napoleon's remains, after being removed from Elba, were
interred beneath the dome of the Hotel of the Invalids. A mag
nificent tomb is now being erected over his ashes, but strangers
are at present excluded, unless admitted by special favor.

Paris. 121
The entire edifice of this military hospital now covers 16
acres of ground. Its length is 612 feet, and it can accommo
date 5000 persons. Those who have been disabled by wounds,
or who have served 30 years, may claim a refuge here.
On the terrace, in front of the hospital, there are sixteen beau
tiful pieces of artillery, of bronze, highly ornamented ; trophies
taken from various nations. There are also other sixteen guns,
captured at Algiers and at Constantina ; they are covered with
Arabic inscriptions and decorations. On approaching for a
closer inspection, we were civilly reminded by a veteran that
we must not touch them. Most of these pieces were of great
length — of course not cannon for field service, to be moved
rapidly in battle — but intended for permanent fortifications.*
Artesian Well of Grenelle. — This fountain is famous
the world over, and of course it was to us a very interesting
object. It is not far from the Hotel des Invalides, and was
undertaken chiefly with reference to the great slaughter-houses
(abattoirs) in its vicinity. It was begun January 1, 1834, and
the boring was prosecuted during seven years and two months.
It opened with a diameter of 12 inches ; at the depth of 1300
feet it was contracted to 6 inches. They struck the water at the
depth of 1800 feet, and the entire depth is 2000 feet, or nearly
two-fifths of a mile. The water rose first in a fine thread, but
soon after it came so rapidly as to injure the machinery. It
rose to the height of 112 feet above the surface; high enough
to flow into the attics of the most lofty houses in Paris, and
into many of its towers. The entire depth of the boring
* In Sir Francis Head's late work, "A Faggot of French Sticks,"
there is a very interesting account of the interior of the Hotel des
Invalides, and of a grand ceremonial there in honor of the memory of
Napoleon. Two thousand veterans, who had served under Napoleon,
were drawn up on that occasion, dressed in the costume of the time
of the empire. Among them was a little fiery Arab Mameluke, one
of the body-guard, with four bullet holes through his cap. Napo
leon's tomb had cost, at that time, 6,163,324 francs, of which 1,500,000
was for the marble alone.
Vol. l— 6

122 Paris.
is five and a half times that of the dome of the Hotel of
the Invalids, and more than five times that of the cross on
the summit of St. Paul's, in London. In a diagram of the
strata, seen in section, the cathedral of Strasburgh, and the
church of St. Peter, at Rome, are figured at the bottom on the
level of the subterranean fountain, and they appear very hum
ble, compared with the great distance to the surface of the
ground. The flow of the water was equivalent to 600 gallons in a
minute ; 500,000 gallons in 24 hours ; and I have not learned
that the quantity is diminished. When we were there, it
flowed bountifully over the top of the tube, and with a force
that would doubtless have raised it to the full height, although
at that time the upper part of the tube had been removed for
repairs. It had collapsed, and a new tube was about to be in
serted ; it was 21 inches wide at top and 7 at the bottom ; but
the new tube was to be reduced to 5 inches. It is now, and
was formerly, made of galvanized iron.
The temperature of the water at first was 83f ° of Fahrenheit,
and it is now stated to be 85° — a degree of permanent heat far
exceeding that of midsummer in Paris. Indeed it is so warm — as
was stated to us — that it does not answer for the use ofthe slaugh
ter-houses, as was at first proposed, and they are compelled to
resort to water from other sources. It was quite warm to the
touch, when a hand was immersed in it. The labor attending
this boring was immense ; and great difficulties were encoun
tered. The boring instrument broke several times, and fell in.
This happened at the depth of 1335 feet, and it required inces
sant labor during 14 months to recover it. The government,
at whose expense it was prosecuted, was, at times, nearly dis
couraged. It was proposed, in 1848, to sink an artesian well in the
Garden of Plants, to the depth of 3000 feet, and it was calcu
lated by MM. Arago and Walferdin, that the water would have
a temperature of 100° Fahrenheit ; " sufficient not only to
cheer the tropical birds and monkeys, the hot-houses and green-

Paris. 123
houses of the establishment, but to give warm baths to the in
habitants of Paris."
The Well of Grenelle has afforded important aid to Geolo
gical theory, by demonstrating the increasing temperature of
the earth as we descend, and numerous other cases of a simi
lar character have added much to the weight of evidence on
this subject, so that the generalization is now sustained, name
ly, that after we descend below the influence of climate, the
temperature of the earth in all countries increases regularly.
The ratio inferred from the Well of Grenelle, and from a still
deeper one at Mondorf, in Lumbourgh, is one degree for every
50 feet of descent. It may vary in different countries, but if
we assume the ratio just named, water would boil at two miles
in depth ; rocks would be ignited at ten miles, and melted at
twenty-five, or more. That there is much melted rock in the
earth is certain.
We were presented to M. Cordier, who first introduced
the theory of the regular increase of the internal heat of the
earth. He was one of the savans who accompanied Napoleon
to Egypt. His modest little book, announcing his views, has
produced a great and permanent impression on the scientific
world. Although not far from fourscore, he is full of vivacity ;
his manners are kind, and his vigorous appearance would sug
gest a period of life much earlier.
Garden of Plants. — We have several times visited this
very important and most interesting establishment. Nothing
but an actual inspection of its immense and unrivalled trea
sures can convey an adequate idea of its riches. An excellent
account of it is contained in Galignani's Paris Guide. A
rapid survey of the garden during two rather extended
visits, enables me to say, that the description above referred to
is in no degree exaggerated, and I have no doubt that it is per
fectly correct. From it, and from my own observations, a few
facts may be cited.
The garden was founded by Louis XIIL, in 1635 ; and it
has been patronized, and its treasures augmented, by almost

124 Paris.
every successive government ; nor has it been subjected to the
ravages of war or of domestic revolutions. Among its profes
sors are names illustrious in science, and known wherever it is
cultivated or respected. Buffon, Vaillant, Jussieu, Tournefort,
Faujas de St. Fond, Daubenton, Fourcroy, Brongniart, father
and son, Cuvier, Valencienne, Milne Edwards, and many more,
were, or are, among its ornaments. There are fifteen profes
sors, fifteen assistant professors, two masters in drawing and
painting, one librarian, and numerous subordinate officers.
Lectures are given on mammiferse and birds, reptiles and
fishes, molluscse and zoophytes, insects and crustacese, com
parative physiology, anatomy and natural history of man, com
parative anatomy, general chemistry, practical chemistry, mine
ralogy, geology, botany, vegetable physiology, rural botany,
cultivation of plants, and physics applied to natural history.
The lectures begin in April, and end in autumn, two or three
courses going on together.
Among the professors to whom we were introduced were
M. Adolphe Brongniart and Milne Edwards. With M.
Alexandre Brongniart, the late eminent geologist, I had
for many years been honored by correspondence, and by
very useful services, and I had occasionally interchanged
letters with this his son. His reception of us at his apart
ments in the garden was very kind, with a gentleness of man
ner that was very winning. The same remark is applicable to
M. Milne Edwards ; and with him we enjoyed an additional ad
vantage. He speaks English fluently and perfectly, and with
out the slightest peculiarity of accent. His parents were Eng
lish, which explains his familiarity with the language ; but he
was born in Paris. M. Edwards occupies the house of the la
mented Cuvier ; we saw the very rooms in which he pursued
his researches, and the apartment in which he died.
With Professor Edwards we had repeated and very grati
fying interviews, and his kindness could not be exceeded. We
had agreeable intercourse with several other professors and
savans, and all of them exhibited those amiable manners which

Paris. 125
are so marked a trait of the Parisians. Among the men of
science in that city we met with only a solitary instance of
cool manners, but without rudeness.
The Garden of Plants was munificently patronized by Na
poleon and by Charles X. Large sums are annually voted by
government for its support ; nor was it ever more flourishing
than at present. It contains —
1. A botanical garden, with spacious conservatories.
2. Several galleries devoted to zoology, botany, and miner
alogy. 3. A menagerie rich in wild animals.
4. A library of natural history.
5. An amphitheatre for gratuitous lectures on all branches
of science. This is capable of containing 1 200 persons, and 1800
are in attendance on the various courses.
The gardens are of vast extent.
The School of Botany contains the plants whose characters
may be known by the tickets attached to them. The red
tickets denote medicinal plants ; the green the alimentary ; the
blue those for the arts ; the yellow the ornamental, and the black
the poisonous. On a mound, called the Labyrinth from its intri
cate windings, there is a magnificent cedar of Lebanon, which
was presented to Jussieu by Collinson, of England, in 1734. It
is still in full vigor. At six feet from the ground, it is ten and
a half feet in circumference. Its broad-spreading horizontal
branches, so numerous, and thickly studded with sombre ever
green spiculse, extend far and wide, shading a large area, and
enabled us to understand and to realize how grand and glorious
was once the venerable Libanus, adorned by forests of its own
native cedars. It was a source of satisfaction to me, while
waiting the arrival of my companions, to sit contemplatively
under the shadow of this princely tree.
Near to this cedar of Lebanon there is a collection of al
most all the evergreens known in the world ; it includes also all
those usually brought out (as now) in fine weather, for sun and

126 Paris.
air. In summer, two Sicilian palms, twenty-five feet high,
stand at the door of the amphitheatre.
More than 12,000 species of plants are cultivated in the
garden. The conservatories are warmed by hot water ; and so
elevated are the roofs as to afford room for the upward growth
of the tallest tropical plants, including mature living palm-
trees. There is in a sunken inclosure a splendid display of flower
ing shrubs ; and there are in the garden some of the most
beautiful trees of Australia, Cape of Good Hope, Asia Minor,
Barbary, and the Hymmetia.
In the Zoological Department there is great variety
of animals. There are asses and zebras, the latter in fine con
dition ; sheep from Thibet and other countries ; goats and ante
lopes and gazelles ; elephants ; the bison and Asiatic buffalo,
dromedary, capybaru from Brazil, and a young rhinoceros.
The elephants are easily conciliated by apples, and there is
an active sympathy between them and the young visitors.
When the clock strikes three — this being the time when the
animals are fed — the elephants voluntarily retire to their dens.
- There are various species of deer, and black and white
bears, whose gambols are amusing to the crowd. There are
two fine lions, a lioness, a jackal, leopards, and hyenas. Here
are also camels, and the lama of South America.
Among the animals, the quadrumana, or monkey tribe,
attract the most attention. Their quarters open into a wire
house, in the form of a huge bird-cage, within which they
sport. Reptiles are here in great numbers, and those from hot
climates are protected by glass cases and artificial heat, and
the boas by blankets. Among the reptiles we noticed a fine
brood of young alligators, presented by Dr. R. W. Gibbes of
Charleston ; and the "names of several other American donors
were attached to specimens of other living animals.
The Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy. — Cuvier's pecu
liar department of labor and glory is probably the most ex-

Paris. 127
tensive and complete in existence. It contains every thing,
from the humblest animal up to man. It is in vain to attempt
to particularize where the field is vast as the world. The skel
etons are admirably set up, and in general they are in high
preservation. There are skeletons of the human species from
all quarters of the globe. There is the skeleton of Soliman el
Khaleby, a learned but enthusiastic young Syrian, by whom
General Kleber was assassinated. There are fine specimens of
fossil plesiosauri from England, and a magnificent Casholot
whale is suspended in the hall at the entrance of the rooms.
The Gallery of Zoology of Preserved Specimens is
equally rich and various. There are upwards of 10,000 speci
mens of birds belonging to 2500 species. The mammalia are
2000, representing 500 species, and the total number of speci
mens is estimated at upwards of 200,000, of which there are
5000 fishes and 2500 species. The tallest of the giraffes that are
here had lived seventeen years and a half in the menagerie.
" The arrangement of the specimens is so systematic and pro
gressive, that, beginning with the lowest manifestations of ani
mal organization, as in the sponge, we can follow the chain of
nature, link by link, till it arrives at its highest perfection in
man." Sir Francis Head, in his lively manner, remarks : " I walked
among scales of serpents, shells of tortoises, skins of animals,
and the plumage of birds, whose bodies were all gone, and
whose joyous lives had long been extinct ; all had been the
captives of man ; all had died either in his hands or by his
hands ; and although their variety was infinite, their congre
gation astonishing, and the method of their arrangement most
admirable, yet in point of beauty, whether of a poor bird with
wings extended always in the same attitude, of an animal
with glass eyes and puffy legs, of a gouty-looking fish immo
vably floating in spirits of wine, was but an unsightly mock
ery of the living creatures, with which it has pleased an Al
mighty Power to ornament and animate that tiny speck of
his creation on which we live."

128 Paris.
The Collection in Mineralogy and Geology is also
vast, various, rich, and beautiful, and arranged and ticketed
most skilfully and usefully.
In general, the name, the locality, and the donor (when
the specimen is a gift), the authority and the time of recep
tion are on the specimens.
Although I cannot enter into details, I must not omit to
remark that the gems are very fine and many of them are
of surpassing beauty. A soldier stands, in full armor, near the
case containing the gold and the gems.
The stupendous Quartz Crystal, presented by Napoleon
when commanding the army of Italy, in 1795, is here; al
though the prism is wanting, the pyramid alone weighs 800
pounds, and is transparent and beautiful. The topazes are
particularly fine. The remarks upon this collection are strictly
applicable to that of the school of mines which, on another
occasion, and indeed on several occasions, we were permitted
to see in great detail, the cases being opened for us. These col
lections of minerals are among the most precious in existence.
The number of mineralogical and geological specimens in the
Garden of Plants exceeds 60,000.
The collection of the celebrated Abbe Hany is the first ob
ject that meets the eye on rising the grand staircase ; it is
mounted in a pyramidal glass case, and with the same labels and
arrangement which it received from its illustrious author. The
specimens are very small, but excellent. This unique collec
tion is one of the recent acquisitions of the Garden of Plants,
having lately been repurchased from England.
The Geological collection is very fine. Among the most
interesting specimens are those obtained by Cuvier from the
tertiary formation which underlies Paris. It was not in our
power to visit Montmatre, which is the principal repository of
the skeletons of those earliest terrestrial animals hitherto dis
covered in the fossil state ; which from their antiquity have been
called palseotheria (or ancient animals.) The specimens are
however so perfect that they at once carry conviction to the

Pere la Chaise. 129
mind, and are seen to be the remains of terrestrial, warm
blooded, air-breathing animals. As I visited this gallery on a
subsequent occasion, in company with a distinguished French
geologist, I postpone further remarks to that occasion.
In the Botanical Gallery are very numerous and perfect
specimens of various woods, cut in vertical and transverse sec
tions, and polished, and a fine collection of the fossil plants of the
coal period, arranged by M. Adolphe Brongniart, who has dis
tinguished himself very much in the investigation of fossil bot
any. From the mines of this country it was my good fortune
many years ago to contribute, throught the elder Brongniart,
to the Garden of Plants numerous specimens of our coal
plants. The total number of dried plants in this collection
exceeds 350,000, and of woods, fruits, and grains, more'
than 4300. There is a table nearly seven feet in diame
ter, made from a single piece of the boabab tree. The tree
from which it was cut must have been fourteen feet in di
ameter. There is a very valuable collection of fruits, preserved in
spirits of wine, and a collection of foreign fruits, modelled in
wax and plaster. There are herbals of various countries ; and
the ancient herbal of Tournfort, labelled by his own hand, is
pereserved here.
The Library contains 30,000 volumes, and 15,000 pam
phlets. The manuscripts containing magnificent paintings of
fruits and flowers upon vellum, and original designs, fill 90 port
folios, and contain upwards of 6000 drawings. It was begun
in 1695.

Dm la €\mt
This celebrated cemetery, so well known throughout the
civilized world, is named from the confessor of Louis XIV., who
resided here; and for 150 years it was the country-seat of the
Jesuits. The ground contained originally 42 acres, but its pre-
Vol. *. — fi*

130 Pere la Chaise.
sent extent is nearly 100 acres. The late M. Alexandre Brong
niart was appointed to lay it out, and bring it into order. It
was consecrated in 1804, and the first grave was dug May 21st
of that year. The cemetery at New Haven, the first orderly
establishment of that kind in North America, was opened seven
years earlier, 1797. The Pere la Chaise is entirely inclosed by
a wall. The beautiful situation of the spot, surrounded by val
leys and slopes, and commanding an extensive view of the pic
turesque and glowing landscape, makes it, particularly in sum
mer, a great resort of strangers, as well as Parisians. This is
the favorite place for the interment of the most distinguished
personages ; and their monuments are often elegant in form,
and grand from their magnitude. There is great sameness in the
general style and appearance of the monuments ; and they are
often so crowded that much of the good effect of a rural ceme
tery is lost. A Protestant unaccustomed to the chapel form of
Catholic mausoleums, is very forcibly impressed by the frequent
recurrence of candlesticks, images of the virgin, crucifixes, and
votive offerings, often costly, with which the altars and walls of
these chapel-tombs are adorned, and they are visible through the
lattice door. Most of them are inclosed by iron railings, with
in which are planted flowers and shrubs, etc. ; and there are near
by, retired seats for the accommodation of mourning friends.
The ground is divided into paved streets ; and the deep ruts
worn in them by funeral processions attest the frequency of
these solemn peagants. Pleasure carriages are not admitted.
Among the numerous monuments to the memory of distin
guished persons, I can mention only a few. That to Heloise and
Abelard is very splendid. It is a chapel, in the Saxon style of
the thirteenth century, and was formed out of the ruins of the
celebrated Abbey of the Paraclete, founded by Abelard, and
of which Heloise was the first abbess. It is 14 feet long by
11 broad, and 24 high. It is adorned by columns and other
architectural embellishments. The celebrated parliamentary
orator, Casimer Perier, minister in 1832, is commemorated by
a statue, a fac-simile, I suppose, of his form and features. It

Pere la Chaise. 131
presents a noble mien and fine countenance, and is erected
upon a lofty and richly decorated pedestal and basement.
Several of Napoleon's marshals, who escaped death in bat
tle, have found quiet tombs in this secluded ground — a boon
denied to the tens of thousands whom they led to fatal conflict.
Here we find Massena, Suchet, St. Cyr, Macdonald, Da-
voust, Giobert, Le Febre and Ney. Ney, however, as he was
shot for his return to Napoleon, was left without a memorial
except an iron railing around a little garden ; a petty, impo
tent revenge upon the memory of a brilliant general ; indeed,
it insures celebrity to this grave, for every observer inquires for
the occupant of the inclosed ground, and every guide tells the '
story. Marshal Ney's little cemetery is adorned by cypress
laurels and roses ; and, as has been well observed, there is more
real eloquence in this silence, than in the panegyrics on the
neighboring monuments. Here also are the tombs of Benjamin
Constant, General Foy and General La Fayette, of Volney and
Madame de Genlis. One of the most splendid of the monuments
is to Countess Demidoff of Russia ; it is in the form of a beauti
ful temple. Those whose lives have run parallel with the great events
of the age, will see these monuments, not without deep convic
tion of the vanity of military fame.*
At the bottom of the hill, there is a large space devoted to
the poor, who are generally without monuments, and there is
an intermediate space where the monuments are of wood.
The general effect produced on the mind by a view of the
cemetery is that of pensive solemnity. The scene is, however,
a very different one from that which I had imagined to myself.
I had supposed that Pere la Chaise, although abounding
with monuments, was still a wild rural field, with trees and
verdure, relieving the solemnity of the place by the vivacity of
living green. This is not the fact ; it is a crowded necropolis,
* From the meetings of the States General of France, and the
flight of Louis XVI. to Versailles in 1789, the great train of events is
within my personal recollection.

132 Pere la Chaise.
where the art and skill of man have, in a great measure, ex
cluded the simplicity of nature. Trees and shrubs indeed there
are, but they are almost veiled by a city of monuments.
This sacred place has not been exempt from the vicissitudes
of war. In 1814, while the allied forces were approaching
Paris, formidable batteries were established in this cemetery and
the walls were pierced with loop-holes. On the 30th of March
the pupils of the school of Alfort successfully resisted two
attacks of the Russians, but were overpowered by a third assault.
Paris capitulated the same evening, and the Russians bivouacked
in the cemetery..
In 1815, while the allies surrounded Paris a second time,
interments here were for a time suspended. There is a chapel
in Pere la Chaise, a plain Doric building, 56 feet by 28, and
56 high. Pere la Chaise is devoted to the interment of the inhabit
ants of the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th and 9th arrondissements. There
are several other cemeteries ; the principal are that of Mont-
matre for the north, and Mont Parnassus for the south. Pere
la Chaise is on the east.
Among the monuments there are some of both Americans
and English.
In the cemeteries of Paris there are three descriptions of
graves : those occupied in perpetuity, those leased for six
years, and those in which the poor are allowed gratuitously a
resting-place for five years.
In the " fosse commune," the dead are arranged in layers ;
an area of sixteen acres, which had been a few years ago com
pletely filled with temporary graves, and the leases having run
out, the graves have been covered in some places to the depth
of thirty feet, with a bed of earth destined to receive a new
stratum of human bodies. There are regular officers charged
with the interment of the poor ; the corpse is lowered down
into a trench, and covered with half an inch of earth ; the
coffins, like paving stones, touch each other all round ; " yet in
memory of each, even the very poorest, there is invariably

Notre Dame. 133
erected, either over the coffin, or as near it as possible, a little
rectangular oak railing, eighteen inches high, inclosing a tiny
garden, subsequently ornamented by friends, generally with
cypresses or only with a cross." At the end of seven, or it may
be of five years, every thing is removed to prepare for a new set
of tenants. The perpetual graves in Pere la Chaise already amount to
102,000, and as they may in time come to occupy the entire
ground, the city of Paris now declines to give any more per
petual titles ; they give instead leases, subject to be renewed ;
but as the renewal often fails to be made, the titles relapse to
the government, as they do also in case the certificate of pro
prietorship is lost.
I believe that Americans who have expected to find in
Pere la Chaise a burial-place like that of Greenwood Cem
etery, Long Island, or Mount Auburn, near Cambridge,
and Laurel Hill, near Philadelphia, not to mention several
other similar cemeteries in the United States, are usually disap
pointed in the first view of the celebrated Parisian cemetery.
It wants that splendid picturesque effect that is so conspicuous
in several of the new cemeteries of this country ; that combi
nation of hills, valleys, waters, groves, and natural winding
avenues, among trees and shrubs of nature's planting, which
harmonize so happily with the solemnity of the house ap
pointed for all living. gtffto $ame.
This vast Cathedral, of world-wide fame, stands on an
island in the Seine, and here was the centre of the old city
of the Parish, in the days of Julius Caesar. It is more than
400 feet long, 150 wide, and more than 100 feet high to the
vaulting of the roof. It has all the characteristics of a vast
ancient Gothic cathedral, but it is dark and gloomy, and when
we were there it was very cold and cheerless.

134 _ Versailles.
At the time of our visit worship was- being held in the
choir; many were kneeling on the hard, cold stone floor;
others were touching the holy water and crossing themselves.
To make the consecrated water the more accessible, a plain
man (at the Madeleine there were two men) held in his hand
a stick, split at the end in the manner of a wood broom ; these
splintered ends were dipped into the holy water, and each
person, in passing out, touched the stick with a finger.
I have neither ability nor disposition to describe Notre
Dame, especially as it is inferior in elegance and in its state of
preservation to Westminster Abbey and York Minster, in Eng
land. Notre Dame has been several times despoiled, by
popular inbreaks, and doubtless has lost much of its origi
nal splendor. It is rich in important historical associations,
not the least interesting of which are those connected with
Napoleon I., and if less important, more recent at least has been
the marriage of Napoleon III. (1853.)
The Bishop's palace, a splendid establishment, stood near
to the cathedral. It was sacked by the mob in 1848, after the
bishop had been murdered in the street ; the furniture of the
palace was broken or carried away as plunder, or thrown into
the Seine, the palace was finally removed by government,
and not a vestige of it now remains. Notre Dame has mag
nificent towers, and in them there was formerly a fine peal
of bells.

Under the guidance of Mr. B., we visited the palace of Ver
sailles, founded by Louis XIV. A building on this ground had
been used by his immediate predecessors as a hunting lodge ;
but in 1660 Louis commenced converting it into a palace, and,
after many additions, it became the royal residence in 1681.
For a century or more it was a favorite abode of the kings
of France, and no expense was spared upon its decorations.

Versailles. 135
In 1792, the palace was devastated by the revolutionists.
Every thing convertible into money was sold for the nation, and
but for Napoleon, it would have been completely destroyed. It
was said that he would have made it his residence had it not
required fifty millions of francs to put it in order. Louis XIV.
expended upon it forty millions of pounds sterling, and Louis
Philippe fifteen millions of francs. The latter restored it to
splendor, and labored to concentrate in it splendid illustrations
of the glories of France.
All the painted ceilings, gildings, &c, were restored, and
new galleries and saloons were formed. An immense series of
paintings, sculptures, and works of art, illustrative of every im
portant event that has reflected honor on the annals of France,
now fills the splendid halls of this noble palace, forming a his
torical museum that has not its parallel in Europe, or in the
world. It would be a vain attempt were I to endeavor to des
cribe the palace. Its buildings and grounds are of very great
extent. It is said to contain 137 grand saloons and lesser
apartments, which are furnished with 10,000 pictures.
Four hours are allowed for the inspection of the rooms and
of their contents : and this time we employed most industri
ously, passing through the apartments with painful rapidity.
No sooner were we attracted by a room, or interested in a pic
ture, than we were hurried on to another, and another, and
another apartment, until our faculties were tired, and our eyes
satiated with the brilliant display. Many of the pictures are
very large ; and it appeared, from the delineations on some of
the larger ones, which were in an unfinished state, that the
canvas was hanging on the wall where the pictures now are
when they were painted.
Most of the pictures are battle scenes, from Clovis, Charle
magne, and the Crusaders, down to Napoleon's wonderful career,
and even to the war in Algeria. The figures are of such di
mensions as generally to appear of the size of life, notwithstand
ing the distance and elevation from which they are seen. It is
painful to observe how. large a part of human effort has been ex-

136 Versailles.
Ipended upon war. There are, however, many pictures of
quiet scenes, and an immense number of portraits. Although
the productions of the French pencil are here of unequal ex
cellence, there are certainly among them no small number of
fine pictures.
Here also we see a vast collection of statues in marble and
of casts in plaster, and a great series of medals and coins. The
pictures of royal residences represent many that no longer ex
ist, and with them are illustrations of the costumes of past times.
Some of the galleries in the palace are 300 feet long, and are
filled with statuary. In order to see all the works of art, it
is necessary to walk three or four miles.
We looked into the private theatre and chapel. Prayers
and divine service were held in the one, and plays acted for
the royal entertainment in the other ; and here members of the
royal family sometimes appeared on the stage. The confes
sional of Louis XIV. is a small room, by the side of which is a
window, where a soldier was always stationed while the king
was at confession ; and the very chair in which his confessor,
Pere la Chaise, sat, and the very cushion on which Louis XIV.
kneeled, are here in their places. Strange infatuation ! The
confessor who urged and obtained the revocation of the
edict of Nantes, which was to let loose the dogs of persecu
tion upon the Protestants, and the pliable monarch who yield
ed himself to license this cruel work of death on thousands, and
of banishment upon many thousands more, could here meet in
a private act of devotion while they were about to violate the
first laws of humanity !
The bed in which the king slept, and in which he died, are
still to be seen in his bedroom, and no one has since slept in
that room.
The private room of Antoinette, queen of Louis XVI., has
a small door in the side, through which the queen escaped in
October, 1789, when the palace was forced. Through this
door she was compelled to fly in her night dress, while a faith
ful officer of her guard was killed on the spot. All these melan

Versailles. 137
choly places we saw, and also the gallery in which the king
and queen and their children appeared, October 6, 1789, to
appease the fury of the Parisian mob, many thousands of whom
filled the immense court of the palace yard. In this gallery
La Fayette also appeared with them, and in sight of the peo
ple kissed the queen's hand, to testify his loyalty and fidelity.
It required no small share of courage and firmness thus to ap
pear as the friend and protector of the royal pair, and their
children, in the face of an infuriated multitude. This palace is
associated with many other interesting events.
In the time of Louis XIV. it was the scene of more splen
dor than any palace in Europe. Although it was constructed,
and has been maintained at an immense expense, it appears to
be neglected by the present government. Some of the pic
tures are perishing from dampness; and in a few — some of
them of large size — the colors, from the same cause, are peel
ing off from the canvas.
It is to be regretted that so splendid an establishment as a
monument of the arts and of the men of a gone-by age, should
not be preserved from destruction.*
I had no opportunity to see the splendid play of the
waters; the fountains were undergoing repair, besides they
play only on Sundays, which is the great gala day of the
French, and when vast numbers of people, as in past times, re
sort to Versailles for amusement. In the time of Louis XIV.,
XV., and XVL, there were here extensive military establish
ments, which are now in decay. There was a manufactory of
arms, which produced annually 50,000 stands ; but it was
plundered by the Prussians, when the allies took Paris in 1814.
The court of the palace measures 800 feet by 500, and is paved,
as the courts of the French palaces generally are. In this
court there are statues of great men, Colbert, Turenne, and
others, of ultra-colossal size. In the centre of the court there
* It is stated that the new government of the emperor Louis Na
poleon is very attentive to the various palaces, adorning and restor
ing them in a lavish manner.. April, 1853.

138 Versailles.
is an equestrian statue of Louis XIV., also of enormous dimen
sions. Versailles, nourished by the power, influence, and money
of Louis XIV., -became a splendid city of 100,000 people ; but
the population has now dwindled to 30,000. Louis XVI. was
an excellent mechanic : happy had it been for him had a shop
instead of a throne been his lot. We saw a good door lock of
his construction, which was still serviceable ; and there is yet to
be seen a brass meridian made by him, and inlaid in the floor.
Several of the royal carriages are here in a perfect state of pre
servation. They are gorgeous in the extreme, being all cover
ed massively with gilded carving, and superbly lined.
We came from Paris, four leagues, on one railroad, and re
turning on another, we passed the place where a few years ago
Admiral d'Urville, and other distinguished officers and citizens,
and many other persons, perished by a railroad accident, still fresh
in the memories of all. That accident was rendered vastly more
destructive of life from the doors of the carriages being locked —
an absurd and unjustifiable custom still existing on the Conti
nent. In England, they lock only one side of the cars, that to
wards the parallel track ; and the reason assigned is, that pas
sengers are thus protected from the danger of being crushed by
getting out on the wrong side. I should have remarked, that
the water for the supply of the fountains at Versailles is forced
up from the Seine, a distance of more than twelve miles, merely
for this display. The original expense was very great ; and it
was stated to us by an intelligent Parisian, that 50,000 lives
were sacrificed in the various labors of excavation, as the coun
try was then full of malaria.
I have mentioned the revocation of the edict of Nantes by
the influence of Pere la Chaise over the mind of Louis XIV.
The Huguenots were the Puritans of France ; and in addition
to the multitude who perished by the sword, and other violent
means, 100,000 families escaped to England and other foreign
lands, and not a few to America, carrying with them every
where their useful arts, their pure principles, and their good

Arc de Triomphe. 139
habits. Some of our best families in the United States sprang
from the French Huguenots, especially in the State of New-York
and in South Carolina. Many honored names in those States
and elsewhere in America, can claim this origin.
The Arc de Triomphe. — This triumphal arch is one of
the most wonderful conceptions of that wonderful man, Na
poleon. It was begun by him, but finished by his successors.
This stupendous fabric strikes one with astonishment ; and after
we had opportunity to compare it with the triumphal arches of
the Roman emperors, we were still more impressed with its
grandeur. Dimensions are indispensable, if we would produce
in others any correct conceptions of structures or space ; but
they fail to impress the mind as does the actual vision, and
this is eminently the fact with this elaborate work. Napoleon
decreed its erection in 1806, after his successful campaigns in
Prussia and Germany.
The plan of the triumphal arch was furnished in 1809.
The foundations were sunk twenty-five feet below the surface,
and it was only above ground in 1811. In 1814, the works
were suspended, and remained neglected until 1823. After
various interruptions, the pile was finished by Louis Philippe in
1836, thirty years from the decree which gave birth to it, and
from the laying ofthe first stone. The cost was 10,420,000
francs, or over 2,000,000 of dollars. The monument consists
of a vast central arch 90 feet in height by 45 in width, over
which rises a bold entablature, frieze, and cornice. There is also
a transversal arch, 57 feet high and 25 feet wide.
The total height of the structure is 152 feet, and its breadth
and depth are 137 and 68 feet respectively. These dimen
sions are more than realized by actual inspection. The pan
els, frieze, and pediment of this structure are covered by fig
ures in bold relief, eighteeen feet in height ; three times the
size of life, and those above are half of this size. All of them
illustrate the history of France, and they are chiefly warlike.
One group may be mentioned as an example. Victory is
crowning Napoleon with a laurel wreath ; History is writing

140 Arc de Triomphe.
the narrative of his deeds, and Fame, soaring above, is proclaim
ing them with her trumpet.
The observer should ascend the monument, when he will
realize more than ever its great height and magnitude, and its
massy materials. An aged woman at the door furnished us
with a lantern for our ascent through dark passages. The
stairs are easy, although narrow, and we mounted, without
difficulty, up the 261 stepg.- The floor which covers the arches,
is composed of very large stones, hewn into perfect symmetry.
Notwithstanding the mountain weight of this structure, not
the slightest crack in the massy stones, or opening in the
joints can be perceived, in any part of the pile. The top
affords a secure and convenient place for observation, and from
this place the observer enjoys a glorious view of Paris and its
environs. Away into the country stretches interminably, as far as the
eye can discern, a beautiful road, almost of the same ample
width as that of the broad avenue, at the head of which the
triumphal arch stands. Looking from the arch to the north,
the avenue leads through and along the Elysian Fields, the
Place de la Concorde, the gardens and Palace of the Tuileries,
the Carrousel and Palace of the Louvre, all of which are in one
continuous line of two or three miles. On our right, still look
ing north, is the dome of the Invalides, the extensive Champs
de Mars, the Ecole Militaire near that field, the triumphal arch
of Napoleon in the Carrousel, the Cathedral of Notre Dame,
and the commemorative column of July 1830, erected on the
site of the ancient Bastille.
The immense city, with its encircling walls, spreads all
around. Montmatre is an apparent continuation of Paris, the
streets not being interrupted as far as can be seen ; here and
there rise the forts for the protection of the city, and the
Seine, winding along through the mazy crowd of buildings,
appears and disappears alternately in the picture. On the
summit of the Triumphal Arch we found a veteran soldier once
in the armies of Napoleon. He wore a blue half uniform, and

Triumphal Arch in the Carrousel. 141
a three-cornered cocked hat. He was a man of a noble ap
pearance, tall, erect, and venerable, with threescore years
and ten. He showed us wounds, which proved that he had
been exposed to the storms of war. He stated that he was a
prisoner seven years in England, where he learned the English
language, which he spoke intelligibly, and in a mild and re
spectful manner. He enlisted in the English service, fought in
the Peninsula and at Waterloo, where a French bullet passed
obliquely through his breast.
Alas ! how much blood has this arch of triumph cost. The
places of ninety-six victories are given on the monument, with
the names of the generals by whom they were won, the latter
making an aggregate of 384.
Triumphal Arch in the Carrousel. — This arch is much
smaller than the one just named. It was erected by Napoleon
in 1806. It is forty-five feet long, sixty high, and twenty feet
broad, and was designed after the arch of Septimius Severus
at Rome. I have already mentioned that it sustains a trium
phal car and four bronze horses, the originals of which were
brought from Venice. These horses are copies of the famous
Corinthian ones, plundered from St. Marks, and restored in
1814, when the allied armies were in Paris, and the stolen
treasures of many cities were reclaimed.
An American friend, now here, informs me that an Eng
lish officer was directed to employ his men in taking down the
Venetian horses from their position on the arch, and that during
the progress of the work, the Parisian populace showed their
displeasure by hisses and other manifestations of resentment.
The Place de Carrousel was so called in consequence of a
tournament held here by Louis XIV., in 1662. The Carrousel
is a large square, which would form a continuation of that of
the Tuileries, did not a high fence intervene. This was erected
by Napoleon, and in the square between that of the Carrousel
and the palace the Emperor was accustomed to review his
troops. The public places in Paris are generally paved, as are the

142 Column of July, 1830.
streets also, with rectangular stones, skilfully placed. Those
parts of the squares that are not paved are left with a surface
of earth, or gravel, without grass. We could not expect much
verdure so early in the season, and there is not now a blade of
grass to be seen in either of the great squares of this city ;
were they not shaded by trees, they would in general have the
same desolate and dreary appearance as the Champ de Mars,
that great area of trampling men and horses, and rolling wheels
of artillery. Column of July, 1830. — Those memorable days that
drove Charles X. from his throne, and transferred his ministers
to prisons, are still fresh in the public recollection ; the
Anglo-American nation felt the more interest in these events,
because Charles X., brother to Louis XVI., then Count d'Artois,
their friend and ally, was one of the French officers who ac
companied General Rochambeau to the United States, and
gave them the most essential aid in achieving their independ
ence. The Count d'Artois had the misfortune to become king
of France ; and he and his ministers, by attempting to muzzle
the press, brought on the revolt that drove him into exile, and
consigned them to prison and condemnation. The column of
July 1st was erected in commemoration of the events of that
period. The monument is inscribed to the glory of those citizens of
France, who took up arms and fought in defence of public
liberty on the memorable 28th, 29th and 30th of July, 1830.
This is a truly magnificent column, and it impressed us most
powerfully as we drove down the slope of Pere la Chaise,
from which site it is in full view. Our impressions received addi
tional strength when we realized that the column stands on the
very site of the Bastille, which was taken by the people, July
14, 1789, and afterwards rased to its foundation, so that not a
vestige of it remains. The great key of this" ancient and ter
rific prison-house was sent by General La Fayette to General
Washington at Mount Vernon, and still hangs in the hall of
that venerable mansion.

Column of July, 1830. 143
The column of July, 1830, is of the composite order; its
height is 168 feet; diameter, 12; weight of metal, 163,283
pounds ; cost, 1,200,000 francs. The Corinthian capital is
I65 feet wide. On this reposes a gilt globe, sustaining a
colossal figure of liberty, standing literally on tiptoe, that is,
on one archecf foot, and with expanded wings ; it appears to be
about to take its flight, while it bears in the right hand a
torch and in the left a chain. On this column are inscribed
the names of the 504 patriots who fell during the three days of
fighting in July, 1830. In July, 1840, after a solemn act of
inauguration, the remains .of these victims were interred in the
vaults beneath the monument, and those that fell in 1848 have
since been added. The sepulchral vaults are secured by iron
doors, and contain a vast sarcophagus, as a receptacle for the
bones; it is 42 feet long, 3 feet wide and 3 deep. The
column being situated in the midst of a large open area, and
as there are no lofty houses or other intervening objects in the
vicinity, it makes an appearance still more noble than that of
Napoleon in the Place Vendome. All the associations con
nected with this vicinity, whether relating to more ancient or
more modern events, are painfully interesting. Not far dis
tant, was the famous or rather infamous Temple, the prison
in which that mild and amiable monarch Louis XVI. was
confined, with his queen and family, and from which both
were led forth to execution. Sir Sidney Smith, Gen. Moreau,
Touissaint Louverture and Pichegru were also confined here, and
Pichegru never left the prison. Touissaint was disposed of in
a different prison, and both he and Pichegru met their death
mysteriously. The prison of the Temple is now destroyed, and only some
buildings that were connected with it remain. Near the Place
de la Bastille, at the entrance of the Faubourg St. Antoine, was
the strongest barricade of the insurgents in June, 1848, and it
required the most energetic cannonade to overcome it. The
houses in that vicinity were riddled by cannon balls, and some
of them were destroyed.

144 Medical College.
A friend of mine, who was here in 1849, the summer after
the contest, found the streets and houses still bearing the marks
of severe fighting, but these wounds and scars are now in a great
measure obliterated.
It was at this barricade, that the Archbishop of Paris,
Monseigneur Denis Affre, met his death, while exerting himself
to assuage the sanguinary spirit of the insurgents. He was
shot, and his splendid palace rifled of its furniture and works
of art. The Faubourg St. Antoine has been so famous in all Pa
risian insurrections, that I was curious to see it and its people.
The appearance of this Faubourg is decent as regards the
houses, and the general aspect of the people does not differ
materially from that of the lower population in other parts
of the city.
Medical College. — According to the usual liberality of
French institutions, the Medical College is free to all ; both
medical students and all unprofessional persons, whether
strangers or not. Prof. Henri Wurtz was already engaged in
his introductory lecture upon Organic Chemistry, when we
entered. His manner is animated and energetic; he spoke
fluently, with much gesture, and entirely without notes ; walk
ing almost incessantly to and fro before his lecture table, a
range of five or six yards. He is a young man, but has
already attained high distinction in his profession, as is proved
by his being appointed to two professorships in different in
stitutions ; a distinction, which, in the case of so young a
man, is said to be unprecedented. The students, who appeared
to number six or seven hundred, sat generally covered. Almost
all were engaged in taking notes, and perfect decorum pre
vailed. When the Professor ended they gave him a volley
of applause. An American student, who was present, told us that the
manners of the students were not always as good as we had
now seen them ; that if they were not pleased with the lec
ture or the lecturer, they became disorderly ; and that he

Medical Museums. 145
had known a tumult got up on such an occasion, when the
military were called in to clear the room. This aid is ever
at hand, for an armed gendarmerie and an armed civil police
are always in the streets, and soldiers stand sentinels at the
doors of all public places.
This lecture-room is a perfect semicircle ; the seats are plain
boards ; they are narrow, and without rails or backs, and are
arranged so closely together that knees of one and 'loins of
another are very incommodiously in contact.
The room is plain, except some decorations in the dome
and cornices, and some smoked and dingy busts. It has in
deed a rusty and neglected appearance, and is altogether unin- ;
viting, as is wont to be the fact with medical lecture-rooms
elsewhere. Medical Museums. — There are two museums connected
with this institution. One was founded by the celebrated
Dupuytren, at an expense of forty thousand dollars, and is
called the Musee Dupuytren, in honor of its illustrious founder.
It is on the opposite side of the street from the college. It is
devoted to morbid anatomy, and embraces a wide range of
diseases, illustrated both by preparations and models. The
other museum is in the college building, and exhibits human
and comparative anatomy, and physiology. Suffice it to say,
that both museums are of the highest order ; very extensive
and various, the preparations excellent, and for the most
part, in perfect preservation. They are systematically arranged,
fully and intelligibly labelled, and they present to the student
every aid, whether in medicine, surgery, physiology, pathology,
or comparative anatomy, and general science. They do honor
to Paris, and are worthy of all imitation.

Vol. i.— 7

146 Palace of St. Cloud.

$al8« jrf St. tab.
April 11th, 1851.
This morning was bright and cheering, and almost the
only brilliant day since we left New-York. While we were in
England, it rained almost every day ; here the weather has
been cheerless and cold, and we have required fire constantly.
The only fuel is dry wood, and that is not used freely as with
us, as it is very expensive.
The ride of this morning was made cheerful by the beau
tiful weather. Our little excursion of six miles took us out of
Paris through one of those fine avenues which lead into the
French capital. We passed through the extensive Bois de
Boulogne, a forest scene extending several miles to the large
village of the same name, containing 7000 people. Next
we arrived at the Seine, where that river takes a graceful
curve ; and, in the course of several miles, is crossed by nu
merous bridges of stone, elegantly arched, and of the most
solid construction. The landscape is here very rich and pic
turesque. Barracks of superior construction and other hand
some buildings, rise on the slope of a hill from the river,
and the palace crowns the summit. The palace of St. Cloud
was founded in 1572 by a rich financier. In 1658, it was
purchased by Louis XIV. for his brother, the Duke of
Orleans, who adorned it expensively. In 1782, Louis XVI.
bought it for his queen, Marie Antoinette. It was a favorite
place with her, as it was subsequently with Napoleon and
Josephine. The principal front is 140 feet long and 70 feet
high. Important events have happened here.
In this palace Henry HI. was assassinated by Jacques
Clement, in 1589, and our guide assured us, that a place in the
long room — which he indicated — was the very spot where the
deed was done.
Henrietta, the queen of Charles I. of England, died here.

Palace of St. Cloud. 147
Here Napoleon, November 10th, 1799, completed the subju
gation of the then existing government, dispersed the members
of the Council of Ancients, whom he had adjourned to this
place from Paris, and assumed the reins himself.
In this place, the capitulation of Paris was signed in 1815.
Here Charles X., in 1830, was informed of the explosion of the
revolution ; and here Louis Philippe rested a short time, during
his flight from Paris in 1848.
We have seen nothing in Europe so delightful as this
palace. Its situation is splendid ; being elevated high upon
the side of a hill rising from the Seine, it overlooks Paris, and
all the populous and most beautiful country around; the
Seine winds gracefully along through the meadows, and ap
pears wider than at Paris, where it is narrowed by the quays
and other structures of the city. The views into the park are
very fine on all sides of the palace ; in the interior the ground
rises, and vistas open up the green slope, with a long avenue
of statues standing in the open air in one direction, and a
tower in the distance in another, while a noble park of old and
lofty forest trees, stretches over the flat ground in front, quite
to the river. In the interior of the palace, every thing is in the
best taste. The furniture of the rooms remains as it was left
by Josephine, Maria Louisa, and the family of Louis Philippe.
The Duchess of Orleans, daughter-in-law of the late king,
passed much time here with her children, and their beds, as
well as that of Louis Philippe and his queen, remain undis
turbed, with their rich silk curtains and covers.
The pictures at St. Cloud are very numerous, and are
lovely exhibitions of that almost creative art. They are all
drawn from quiet scenes, such as must ever remain grateful to
the human mind. Among the hundreds of pictures by the
first masters that adorn these walls, there is not a single battle-
piece. In this respect, St. Cloud presents a striking and very
agreeable contrast with the carnage that crimsons the long
galleries of Versailles. Louis Philippe sought, in that palace,
to gratify the national avidity for glory, by multiplying battle-

14fc Palace of St. Cloud.
scenes in which the arms of France had been triumphant, and
by depicting the persons of her heroes, until the tired eye that
gazes on them is satiated with gorgeous costume, and the mind
afflicted with human suffering.
At St. Cloud a more amiable feeling was cherished, as ap
pears by the charming pictures of rural scenery, of mild and
splendid landscapes, of peaceful buildings, abodes of happy
domestic life, scenes living and real, and ever grateful.
As the private rooms in which the successive royal families
lived, are rich in elegant simplicity, in a style of chaste beauty,
they are in strong contrast with the rooms of state, which are
extremely magnificent, and adorned by a profusion of princely
decorations. Their domes are all alive with the imaginary
beings of fabulous antiquity. Gods and goddesses, and muses
and nymphs, and a multitude of creations of poetic fancy and
records of old legends decorate the ceilings.
A principal ornament of the public rooms is the Gobelin
tapestry, manufactured and hung by order of Louis Philippe.
All that I had seen before at* Windsor Castle in 1805, or
recently at Blenheim Palace, fades in comparison with the rich
decorations of the Gobelin looms, which adorn the public halls
of St. Cloud.
These textile pictures are perfectly beautiful, and from their
magnitude and the august personages of the historical dramas
which they present so impressively to the eye, they are sub
lime. No one viewing them from the distance across the room,
would even suspect that they are any thing else than the most
perfect productions of the pencil, and even when the observer
approaches them, it is not easy to convince himself that the
splendid illusion is produced by the interweaving of colored
woollen and silken threads.
Five of the scenes here depicted in Gobelin tapestry are
copied from original paintings still existing in the Louvre, ex
ecuted by Rubens, for, Maria de Medicis. The first is the Duke
of Anjou, declared king of Spain (Philip V). The second of
these pictures, which is not less than twenty-five feet square, is

Palace of St. Cloud. 149
the birth of Marie de Medicis ; the third is the presentation of
her picture to Henry V. ; the fourth, his marriage with her ;
the fifth represents his departure from his capital, and the com
mitting of the government to the care of the queen. We saw
also most magnificent vases of Sevres porcelain ; one of them
was presented to Marie Antoinette ; it must have been, I be
lieve, five feet high without the pedestal, and of the capacity of
a barrel or two.
We have nothing in America that can convey a full im
pression of these superb productions of the plastic art. They
are modelled after the forms of the most beautiful Etruscan
vases ; the most perfect purity of the porcelain material is con
trasted with the finest efforts of the pencil, in the pictures, which
being incorporated by the fire, are indissolubly wedded to the
basis on which they are delineated, and they are resplendent
with gold and blue enamel of cobalt. One is at a loss which
most to admire, the productions of the Gobelin looms or those
of the Sevres furnaces.
The floors of the palace, according to the general custom in
French houses, are made of pieces of boards. They rarely ex
ceed six inches in width, and are tastefully disposed in various
geometrical figures. All the floors that we have seen in Paris,
except some that are covered by carpets, are kept waxed ;
the waxing is renewed daily, and they are so smooth as to ap
pear hazardous to those unaccustomed to walk upon them.
The floors of the palace of St. Cloud have been, heretofore,
covered by Gobelin carpets, which are now rolled and put
away for safe keeping. We saw the council table of Napoleon
and Louis Philippe, memorable for the deliberations which
have been held over its boards. St. Cloud was the favorite
place of consultation on matters of peace and war ; here Napo
leon planned some of his campaigns ; here Louis Philippe
passed much time with his family, and his daughter-in-law, the
Duchess of Orleans found a quiet retreat with her little son,
the Count de Paris, whom she in person presented in the Legis
lative Hall during the revolution of 1848. Her husband, the.

150 Sevres Porcelain.
Duke of Orleans, presumptive heir to the throne, having been
killed by a mysterious Providence, she naturally hoped that
the legislature would acknowledge the claims of her son,
founded on both those of his father and his grandfather Louis
Philippe ; but all the world knows that she was disappointed,
and was fain to retreat and seek protection for her child and
herself. There was a deep feeling of pensiveness connected with our
visit to St. Cloud ; closed now as it is and quite solitary, with
out a single individual remaining of those who formerly figured
there ; it was to us an instructive memento of the vanity of
human glory. The splendid apartments remain, with all then-
furniture and decorations in perfect order. The solitary chapel
— chastely elegant, although grave in its architecture, seemed
all ready and waiting for the arrival of worshippers ; and the
entire palace, with its beautiful grounds, impresses one almost
with the belief, that kings and queens, and courtiers and no
bles, and guests of renown will soon return and give life and
joy to those vacant scenes ; but alas, except some few members
of the family of Louis Philippe and of Napoleon, all are gone
to the tomb. The dreaded conqueror of nations found his
second prison and his grave on a bleak rock, in the ocean, and
his final tomb among those invalids whom, in their youth, he
led to fields of battle and victory.
Josephine, once an ornament of St. Cloud, as she was of
every scene in which she presided, went with a broken heart
from Malmaison to her grave.
An old man, our guide through the palace, said to us, " I
have been thirty years here, and I have seen three monarchs
expelled from this palace and from their thrones."
I have omitted to mention the large library of Louis
Philippe, which still remains at St. Cloud, undisturbed and in
perfect order. It is my impression that the number of volumes
was stated at 12,000.
Manufactory of Porcelain. — With this celebrated
manufactory at Sevres, two leagues from Paris, on the road to

Sevres Porcelain. 151
Versailles, I had long been acquainted, by correspondence and
communications with M. Alexandre Brongniart, its late re
spected director, who held that office 47 years. Long ago,
at the suggestion of an American friend, then residing in
Paris, he sent me a very interesting and instructive series of
specimens, from this manufactory.
We had the pleasure to-day of seeing all the most import
ant processes as carried out on a large scale, and producing the
most perfect results.
We were courteously and intelligently conducted, during
five or six hours, through every part of the establishment, and
saw the most superb and beautiful productions of the art. A
museum was formed by the late M. Alexandre Brongniart,
of the pottery of all nations and ages, illustrating what he
called the ceramic art. He did not overlook America, and
it was a pleasure to me to send him, at his request, speci
mens of our porcelain of Philadelphia, which, in material,
compared well with the porcelain of Sevres, but it was not
equal in the ornamental part. The Philadelphia porcelain
has an honorable position in the museum, and the rude pro
ductions of the aborigines, and especially of the South Ameri
cans, were not forgotten.
This museum comprises 9068 articles, which form a com
plete collection of foreign china, and the materials used in its
fabrication ; a collection of the china, earthenware and pottery
of France, and the earths of which they are composed ; with a
collection of models of all the ornamental vases, services,
figures, statues, etc., that have been made in the manufactory
since its first establishment.
Louis XVI. enriched this museum by a fine collection of
Greek vases. The models and specimens, which comprehend
every kind of earthenware, from the coarsest pottery to the
finest porcelain, afford a complete illustration of the history of
the art, and are arranged in cases in chronological order, begin
ning with Grecian and Roman and ending with the most
complete productions of the manufactory. The hard porcelain

152 Sevres Porcelain.
of Sevres is formed of the kaolin (porcelain clay) of Limoges,
alkali, sand and saltpetre.
In the ornamental part, painters of the highest talent and
skill are employed, and the number of artists before the agi
tations of 1848 exceeded 180.
The ancient art of painting on glass has been revived suc
cessfully, and Mr. Ebelman has raised the manufacture of arti
ficial gems to a science. The specimens which we saw, in
imitation of all the principal gems, cannot be distinguished by
Jhe eye from the originals. By description alone it is impos
sible to impart any adequate conception of the splendid pro
ductions of this manufactory.
Nothing that I have seen in the ornamental arts, unless it
be the Gobelin tapestry, has impressed me so powerfully as to
the combined effect of the inventive faculties of the human
mind, and the magic skill of the human hand. I was not, be
fore this visit, aware that the most splendid and beautiful pic
tures are painted upon platesj3iL.pjarcelain, and that when
framed and hung they cannot be" distinguished from the origin
als from which they were copied. Indeed they are perfectly
identical, only, if possible, those on porcelain are the most
beautiful. The most skilful artists are employed to paint
them on the porcelain plates, and when the heat unites
the softened metallic colors for ever to the porcelain, their
fusion is so perfect into the substance of the plate that the
transition shades are exquisitely blended, and we have a pic
ture, with all the delicacy of the original, to which is added
the splendor of the porcelain itself.
The artist is assured also, that (fracture excepted, and
against this it is easy to guard) his work is immortal, and will
remain unchanged, when time and accident shall have destroy
ed every canvas and every fresco now in existence. The ma
terials being those of the primitive mountains, will be as endur
ing as they, and man, by his talent and skill, sheds additional
lustre upon the most ancient and most enduring works of his
Creator. The cost of some of these wonderful productions of

Chapel Ferdinand. 153
art is immense, and none but monarchs and princes, and mer
chant princes, can afford to purchase them. One vase at
Sevres cost 100,000 francs. Some ofthe smaller pictures cost
26,000 francs, and the larger more in proportion. A dining
set ofthe finest porcelain of Sevres costs 56,000 francs, and we
saw two vases at 70,000 each. The manufacture of Sevres is
a government establishment, and is far from paying its own
expenses. Experiments are there made upon the improvement
of the art, and the results are liberally communicated for the
benefit of other manufactories.
We have in the United States the most perfect materials.
Nothing can exceed the feldspar of Chester county, Pennsylva
nia, from which the beautiful Philadelphia porcelain was made,
and which, when placed side by side with that of Sevres, could
not be distinguished from it. Lately, also, we have profited by
the introduction of artists, who reproduce in a beautiful manner
in New- York the most elegant designs upon white porcelain
imported for the purpose.
Chapel Ferdinand. — On our return from Sevres to Paris,
we came by another road from that on which we went out,
our object being to see the chapel erected by the paternal af
fection of Louis Philippe to the memory of his son, and ex
pected successor, the late Duke of Orleans.
All the world knows the deplorable accident that deprived
the family of their most cherished member, and disappointed
all their hopes regarding his future elevation. This sad event
happened on the 13th of July, 1842. The duke left Paris in
the forenoon in a light open carriage, with a postilion, intend
ing to take leave of the royal family at their favorite rural retreat,
Neuilly, and then proceed to the camp at St. Omer. Near the
port of St. Maillot, the horses took fright and ran — the coach
man not being able to restrain them — when the duke, in at
tempting to leap from the carriage, became entangled in his
cloak, and was thrown forcibly upon the back of his head,
which was fractured by the curb-stone upon which he fell. He
never afterward spoke, or appeared to have any knowledge of
Vol. i.— 7*

154 Chapel Ferdinand.
what had happened. He was conveyed into the nearest house,
that of M. Lecordier, a grocer. The accident occurred at ten
minutes before twelve, at noon ; he expired at ten minutes
past four p.m., and without apparent suffering. The royal
family, except the Queen of the Belgians and the Prince de
Joinville, who was at Naples, all arrived before his death. Two
mute clocks in an adjoining building indicate the events — the
one with a black face and a white index points to ten minutes
before twelve, and the other, of the same appearance, to ten
minutes past four o'clock — silent heralds of the painful story.
As the horses were, in the event, controlled, and the carriage
was not injured, it is lamentable to reflect that the duke would
have been safe had he kept his place.
The king, having purchased the house in which his son died,
and also the adjoining house and grounds, caused a chapel to be
erected on the spot. It was consecrated July 11th of the next
year, in the presence of the royal family. The archbishop, who
performed the rites, was the same who was murdered by the
mob in the insurrection of June, 1848. The chapel is 50 feet
long by 30 in height, and is constructed of the light-colored
sandstone, which is the principal building material of Paris. In
form the chapel resembles an ancient mausoleum, and is sur
mounted by a cross. The interior is fitted up in the usual
style, and with the usual appendages of Catholic churches.
The most interesting things are, on the right, in a recess in
the chapel, a recumbent statue, at full length, of the dying
prince ; and the effect of the figure is singularly impressive.
His fallen features and limbs, yielding to the collapse of death ;
his hand, seeming to press the marble bed on which he lies,
while behind his head an angel, in female form, on her knees
supports his pillow, and with expanded wings, and hands
clasped as in prayer, is ready to lead upward the soul about to
be released from the expiring body. • It is a very touching inci
dent, that this angel form was previously sculptured as a work
of art, by Marie, the sister of the prince, who possessed high
talent in that line ; but little did she think that she was mould-

Chapel Ferdinand. 155
ing the guardian angel of her unfortunate brother. In the rear
of the building, and behind the pulpit, is the very room in
which the prince died. It is now the sacristy of the chapel.
Low oaken presses, a confessional of the humblest construc
tion, a chair, a prayer-desk covered with cloth, and an ivory
crucifix, form its only furniture. A very affecting picture of
the death scene, painted by order of the king, completes the
painful commemoration. The duke, a handsome and graceful
young man, lies, the size of life, upon his death-bed; his head
is supported by the physicians, while the priest is leaning
over him ; the queen is kneeling by his bed-side ; his sister,
the Princess Clementina, in the agony of grief, covers her face
with both her hands ; the brothers, the Dukes d'Aumale and
Montpensier, stand next, and in front is the noble form of the
father, bowing, as he kneels and fixes his eyes on his dying
son, with an expression of deep sorrow, dignified by firmness.
All these form a group of the most touching interest, while se
veral eminent men, of the king's confidential friends — Marshals
Soult and Girard, the minister, Guyzot, and others, participate
in the sorrow of the family, and in the bereavement of the na
tion. In an adjoining house are several apartments to which the
mourning family were wont to resort ; and among the articles
of furniture there is an elegant cushion, wrought by the queen's
own hands. The ground which lies between the chapel and
the house is of semicircular form ; it is inclosed by a wall, and
encircled by beautiful cypresses in a flourishing condition,
thickly planted, and forming a verdant barrier. In the centre is
a cedar of Lebanon, brought from the mountain by the late
. Duke of Orleans himself, and planted by the hand of the Count
of Paris, son of the desceased prince. The whole scene is very
honorable to the paternal feelings of Louis Philippe, whose pri-"
vate character, pure, and unsullied by vice or domestic folly,,
stands in beautiful contrast with that of Louis XIV. and XV.
The former commemorated his profligate life by building a
palace for his mistress, Madame Maintenon, and the latter did

156 Gobelin Tapestry.
the same for Madame Pompadour. The hand of affliction has
indeed fallen heavily upon Louis Philippe and his family, whose
history presents memorable instances of vicissitudes both of mis
fortune and prosperity, rarely surpassed in the annals of those
who have had the misfortune to be born to an inheritance of
that worldly greatness, which is so nearly allied to sorrow, that
well may most of us be thankful that a merciful Providence
has assigned us an humbler lot.
Manufacture of the Gobelin Tapestry. — This manufac
ture was begun about 400 years ago, by Jean Gobelin, in the
dyeing of wool ; his successors, of the name of Canaye, worked
tapestry for hangings, a manufacture then confined to Flanders.
In 1662, under Louis XIV., the establishment was purchased for
the crown, and the carpet manufactory was made royal pro
perty by Marie de Medicis in 1604.
With one of the young gentlemen of our party, we found
our way to the establishment, and by showing our passports, we
were admitted, with a great crowd, however, who had come
on the same errand. We passed through a long series of rooms.
The first contained rich specimens of modern manufacture, but
in no respect superior to those which we had already seen
at St. Cloud ; then followed many hangings of tapestry of
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, much faded by time.
Next were the work rooms for tapestry and carpets, six in
number, and containing twenty-five looms.
In the tapestry work, which is called tissue, the workman
stands at the back of the canvas on which he is employed ; the
original is behind him, and to this he constantly refers in
working out his copy. All cuttings and fastenings are confin
ed to the back of the pattern, as the finished surface must be-
kept smooth. The thread is vertical, and is called haut lisse. The
carpet work is called velours. In working this the artist stands
in front, with the model placed a little above his head slant
ing upward, at a suitable distance from his eye, which frequent
ly glances from the model to the work, and he cuts the
loops off the thread, as in producing the pile of velvet. Some

Chemical Lecture. 157
of the carpets take five to ten years, and cost from 60,000 to
150,000 francs, but none are sold. A carpet made for the
Louvre consists of seventy-two pieces, and is over 1300 feet
long, or a quarter of a mile. About 120 workmen are em
ployed in the establishment. The productions of these looms
are destined only for palaces. Although it is very gratifying
to have seen these processes, they are not altogether intelli
gible, even when we stand by and see the wonderful result. We
observe the artist managing innumerable spools of colored
silks and yarns, and perceive that there is a great resemblance
to carpet weaving, as we have seen it elsewhere ; but when we
observe, for example, a beautiful human form, partly developed, a
limb, or a face, or a hand, and see it appearing as if a part of
it had been cut away, we then look at the pattern which
hangs near by, and there we see the remainder of the figure,
which is, in its turn, to be transferred to the magical web ; and
so it is the same with a flower, an animal, or whatever else is
to be copied.
The embroidery in worsteds, so well understood by my
fair countiywomen, resembles, on a small scale, the Gobelin
tapestry, both in the stretching of the web, the management of
the colors, and nature of the patterns.
Chemical Lecture at the Garden of Plants. April
12, 1852. — We heard Prof. Fremy at 9 o'clock this morning
in the Chemical amphitheatre. He is esteemed a fine lec
turer. Like Prof. Wurtz, he is animated, and uses much more
gesture than seems, to our cooler temperament, quite ap
propriate to a scientific subject. His subject was respira
tion, and he made a free use of the blackboard. The audience
— about 150 in number — was miscellaneous, the lectures, like
all others in the national establishments, being gratuitous.
There were fifteen females present, and one man was in a blue
blouse. The room was very plain ; the benches were narrow, and
without backs, and there was no ornament except what seemed
inappropriate — green curtains all around the upper side of the

158 The Mint.
circular room, but so dingy and soiled that it would 1>j better
without them.
Prof. Fremy is well known for his numerous chemical
researches, and particularly for those upon the metallic acids.
As an author, his reputation rests chiefly upon the system of
Chemistry of which he is joint author with the estimable
Pelouze. In person he is stout, with an animated counte
nance, active movement, and easy pleasant address, well sus
tained by an agreeable voice and natural elocution. He speaks
rapidly, but with remarkable distinctness. The experiments
were few, and very clumsily performed by an assistant, who did
no credit to his craft. We were also struck by the incom
pleteness of the material arrangements about the lecture table
— so unlike the elegance demanded by a national establish
ment. The Mint. — By favor of M. Pelouze, the head of this
establishment, we were permitted to see the mint.
The building is of stone, 360 feet long and 78 high. It
was finished in 1775, and stands on the eastern bank of the
Seine, opposite to the Louvre. I need not enter into the de
tails of the mechanical operations and chemical processes
which we saw. I can, however, add with truth that those at
our own mint at Philadelphia, appear in no respect inferior, in
scientific accuracy, while in neatness and elegance of mechan
ical execution, the American mint is decidedly superior to the
French. Some processes are here performed by hand, which
with us, are more efficiently accomplished by machinery.
In the museum there is a large collection of coins and
medals of many countries and ages ; they are well arranged for
study, and are very interesting and instructive.
The monetary collection of France begins with Childebert I.,
511 to 568, and is nearly complete to the present day. The
ten louis pieces of Louis XHI. are large and beautiful. Those
of Louis XIV. are magnificent, and show the features of the
king from childhood to death. The earliest English coin is a
half noble of Henry VI.— date 1421. The earliest Spanish

Geological Collections. 159
coin is of the year 680. Mexican money being merely the
metal in masses, is stamped to indicate the value; Turkish
money of 1730-34, ¦&%% being pure gold ; a coin of Charle
magne ; one of Charles VII. of 1461 — the original die is in
existence, and is the earliest known : coins of Louis XII.,
Henry Vin., Francis I., Ignatius Loyola, Mary Queen of Scots,
Cardinal Richelieu, a superb medal by Varin, for which his
life was spared, a complete series of Louis XV. and XVI. —
the first republic and the empire down to the present time.
We saw also numerous medals, and nearly all the dies and
medals struck during the consulate and the empire. Our at
tention was arrested by a bronze copy of the plaster cast
taken from the face of Napoleon, twenty hours after his death ;
and also by a bronze model of the pillar in the Place Ven-
dome, with the figure of Napoleon in imperial robes, as it
was at first designed and carried out.
This establishment is freely shown, on certain days, although
it contains immense treasures of uncomputed value, both intrin
sically and historically. Gold and silver are the chief medium
of circulation in France, bank bills being rarely seen. There
are bank bills for larger sums, from 50 francs upwards, but we
have seen no paper money of small denominations, except the
issues of revolutionary times preserved in museums.
Geological Collections. — Accompanied by M. De Ver-
neuille, I revisited to-day the Geological museums of the Gar
den of Plants, including Cuvier's original collection, and also
the superb halls of the School of Mines. M. De Verneuille is
well known in the United States, where he won the esteem and
friendship of all men of science with whom he came in con
tact in his extended wanderings. His name was previously
familiar to all geological readers, as the companion of Sir
Roderick Impey Murchison, in his geological survey of the
Russian empire, and as the author of the palaeontological por
tion, forming the second volume of the report containing the
results of their joint labors in that very important research.
Our attention was particularly engaged in Cuvier's museum

160 Cuvier's Collections.
by the bones of the fossil quadrupeds disinterred at the sand
stone quarries of Montmatre, and in other parts of the basin of
Paris. These were described by Cuvier, under the name of
Paleotheria (or ancient animals), and on the study of them,
Cuvier founded, not only numerous new genera and species of
extinct animals, but drew from them most interesting conclusions
concerning the era when terrestrial, air-breathing, viviparous, and
warm-blooded animals were first introduced upon the earth. I
had the pleasure of seeing the original specimens on which this
illustrious naturalist based his magnificent generalizations ; they
were even more satisfactory than I had imagined, and exceed
ingly instructive and convincing.
Many other fossils also interested me very much, especially
the head of an enormous fossil rhinoceros from Siberia, and the
long hair and a portion of the skin, of the celebrated Siberian
elephant, found frozen in the ice banks of the White River, in
Siberia. The fossil fish of Monte Bolca and' other localities are nu
merous, and their interest is greatly enhanced by the knowledge
that they are the very specimens which Cuvier placed at the
disposal of Agassiz for description, in 1824, when our illustrious
friend was yet but a student in Paris, although his acquirements
and genius had already secured the confidence of the first
naturalist of our age. They still retain the labels of Agassiz.
Here is the famous case of one fish apparently in the act of
swallowing another. The appearance is certainly strikingly
like the fact, although Mr. Bakewell and others have sug
gested that the position of these two fishes is only an accident,
from their being compressed laterally against each other. It
is certainly more dramatic, if not more true, to contemplate a
fish, in the moment of perishing, by being buried in a sub
marine eruption of volcanic and calcareous mud, as so much
more intent on his meal than his danger, that he is caught in
the very act of bolting his companion.
We inspected, also, with great interest, the human remains
from Gaudalupe, whioh, forty years ago, excited so much atr

School of Mines. 161
tention and discussion, refuting, as was supposed by many, the
opinion of geologists, that the remains of man were never
found fossil. The thoracic portion and some other bones of a
human form* are encased in recent concretionary limestone, de
posited by water over part of an ancient burial ground. The
deposit is now known to be of very recent origin, and the
remains it incloses are fossilized only in the same sense as are
baskets of fruit, stuffed birds, and other objects, which are
encrusted by tuff in the spray, or waters of certain mineral
springs in Italy and Germany.
The fossil cavern bears are so large as fully to justify Cu
vier's assertion, that this animal ( Ursus Speloeus), was as large
as an English hunting horse.
The Museums of the School of Mines {Rue d'Enfer),
are under the directorship of the distinguished Dufrenoy, so
well known from his joint labors with M. Elie de Beaumont,
in the geological survey and map of France, not to mention
his system of mineralogy, and other important contributions to
science. M. Dufrenoy had, on a previous occasion, with a most
dignified courtesy, spent several hours in conducting lis through
the mineralogical portion of these superb collections. Here
we met, also, M. de Senarmont, professor of mineralogy in the
School of Mines, and to whose custody the mineralogical col
lections are more particularly intrusted. M. de Senarmont,
at the time we saw him, was engaged in a remarkable investi
gation, on the artificial formation of crystallized and anhydrous
minerals, from solution, and we had the satisfaction of in
specting some of these curious results in advance of their pub
lication. My younger companions, who were more particu
larly interested than myself in this portion of the museum,
made subsequently very numerous visits to the mineralogical
gallery, which, in the extent and perfection of its series of
crystals, and in the beauty and thorough science of its arrange
ment, is superior to any other which we visited in Europe.
* The cranium of this individual has been lately discovered in a
museum in Charleston, S. C.

162 School of Mines.
The geological collection is divided into two great sections,
or chapters. The one in vertical cases gives a stratigraphical
order of arrangement, while in an extended succession of hori
zontal cases, the palaeontological characters of the various geolo
gical epochs is fully displayed. It is difficult to imagine a col
lection better adapted for study, in all departments of geology
and of mineralogy, than that in the School of Mines. The
halls in which it is deposited have been recently reconstructed,
and combine grandeur of architectural effect with the elegant
order of the cases of polished oak and plate glass, and floors
of waxed oak, such as are seen only in France, and upon which
we look in vain for the slightest dust or blemish of any sort.
Custodes are always in attendance, not merely to keep an eye
upon visitors, but by ceaseless care to maintain every point of
order that the most fastidious taste could suggest. Here we
had the pleasure also of meeting M. Elie de Beaumont, and I
could not desire to have met him more opportunely. His
manners are exceedingly kind, he speaks English fluently, and
was prompt in facilitating our progress through. the geological
collections. Prof. Bayle of the School of Mines was also
unwearied in his efforts to explain this portion of the museum,
which was arranged, and, to a large extent, formed, under his
particular care. Thus escorted, it would be strange if I had
not been deeply interested. In particular, had it been possible
that my confidence in the accuracy and truthfulness of Cuvier
and Brongniart should have been increased, that effect would
have been produced by the contemplation of the very treasures
which they garnered up, and which afforded materials for their
excellent works, especially on the history of life as it is record
ed in the tertiary state, in the great basin of Paris.
The Pantheon. — We were attracted to this celebrated
church — dedicated to the illustrious sons of France — not so
much by its historical associations, as to witness an interesting
experiment, now in daily progress, by M. Fouchault, having for
its object to show the rotation of the earth by the motion of a
pendulum. Familiar as is the fact of the earth's rotation to

Fouchault's Experiment. 163
every school-boy, there has nevertheless been a remarkable
absence of experimental demonstration for its proof. It was
the object of M. Fouchault to supply this deficiency by cer
tain peculiarities in the motion of a pendulum, which had
before escaped particular notice. The dome of the Pantheon
is admirably suited for the execution of this experiment on the
grandest scale. The pendulum is only a thin wire sustained
on a swivel point at the apex of the dome, and suspending from
its lower end a brass ball filled with lead to give it momentum.
Its vibrations are communicated simply by gravity, the ball
being drawn to the outer periphery of a broad ring of wood
under the centre of the dome, and then let go. This large
circle is graduated. The point at which the first vibration
starts is noted by an index, on the under side of the ball, com
municating a groove, or score, to the surface of some moist
sand evenly spread in its path, upon the opposite sides of the
arc of vibration. It is then observed, upon the return of the
pendulum to the point of departure, that the second sweep
marks the sand a little to the right, of the first mark ; and
so on, with each successive vibration, there is a constant
and progressive horizontal movement shown, until in a
certain period, somewhat less than that required for one
diurnal revolution of the earth, the entire circle is traversed by
the pendulum. It is not easy to discuss the principles in
volved in this simple experiment in a popular manner, but it is
now generally conceded that it is truly a demonstration of the
earth's rotation upon its axis.*
For the pleasure of witnessing this interesting physical ex
periment, I was indebted also to the kindness of our attentive
friend, M. de Vemeuille. After inspecting it, we devoted a
few moments to the historical and artistic claims of the great
temple in which it was going on.
* For interesting discussions of this subject see the Am. Jour.
Sci. vol. XII. [2] p. 256 and 398. Also vol. XV. [2] p. 263. M.
Fouchault has contrived a very simple and ingenious apparatus by
which this experiment may be shown in a class-room or physical

164 Religious Services.
Public Worship.— We attended service, April 14th, at the
Oratoire, in the Rue St. Honore, a Protestant church, well
known to Americans. There were probably twelve hundred
people, of all classes, who filled the church. It was very cold —
the floor was of stone — the chairs were plain wood without
paint, and willow bottomed, such as in America are used in
kitchens. Some better seats, that had been reserved, were soon
filled by a procession of young people, candidates for admission
to the communion. The young men, some of whom were
lads, did not wear any costume, but the young women, twenty
in number, were dressed in white, with white veils. The
preacher was a dignified person ; he addressed the candidates
for the communion with much fervor, and in a very impressive
manner, which drew tears from many eyes. The singing was
accompanied by an organ, much in the style of New England,
and awakened very interesting associations of home.
It was delightful to see the descendants of the Huguenots,
now worshipping in peace and security in the very city where,
three hundred years ago, they were slaughtered by thousands
on St. Bartholomew's eve, and by hundreds of thousands all
over the kingdom ; and a century and a third afterwards, on
the occasion of the revocation of the edict of Nantz, 1685, they
were exposed to a renewal of those bloody persecutions which
had scarcely ceased, until Napoleon's strong arm levelled all
distinctions, and gave free toleration to the Protestants of
France, we trust never to be wrested from them again.* In
company with a friend I have visited the principal scenes of
the massacre of St. Bartholomew's eve. I have been into the
old church of St. Germaine, whose ill omened bell, still hang
ing where it then was, gave the death-knell of thousands, be
ing rung by preconcerted arrangement, to give notice when
the work of murder was to begin ; and cruelly punctual were
cabinet. It is described under the last of the above references by
M. J. Nickle"s.
* This was written in April, 1851 ; what has happened in France
since is too well known to need comment. April, 1853.

Madeleine, 165
the thousands of executioners, who stood ready with the weap
ons of death in their hands, to strike the fatal blows which
crimsoned the streets and houses of Paris with the blood of its
best inhabitants, and of eminent persons who had been decoyed
to Paris on the occasion of a royal festival. My friend aided
me in finding out the house where the good Admiral Coligny
was murdered ; the very room we saw, and the chamber window
from which his mutilated, but venerable form, was thrown
down to receive wanton insult from those demons in human
shape, who revelled in slaughter as in a pastime.
Church of the English Ambassador. — The English in
foreign cities generally manifest their regard for religion, and
for their national church, by establishing a place of worship.
We sought out, and some of us attended, the church of
the English embassy in Paris. It is of ample dimensions for
its object, but to-day was only partially filled. The service
was solemn; the officiating clergymen were of veiy respectable
appearance, and the sermon was worthy of the occasion. The
audience, as we judged from their appearance, were English,
probably residents, or like ourselves, visitors in the capital. It
is very gratifying to Protestants to find, in Catholic countries,
churches in whose worship they can participate.
The Madeleine. — Of a Sabbath morning I stepped into
the splendid church of the Madeleine. It is the most mag
nificent of the modern Parisian churches — a perfect Grecian
temple, 398 feet in length by 138 in breadth. At either end
is a flight of 28 steps, extending the entire length of the
facade or front. It is sun-ounded by a magnificent colonnade
of Corinthian columns ; each column is 49 feet high by 16£
in circumference; 15 are on each side; 14 on the southern
portico and 8 on the northern ; they are 33 feet apart, and
between them are niches containing colossal statues of saints.
The colonnade is crowned by a richly sculptured frieze and
cornice. The southern pediment contains a,n immense alto-
relievo, 126 feet long by 24 in height, filled with sculptured
figures, of which that of Christ is 1 8 feet in height. This is

166 Club Dinner.
the largest piece of sculpture in existence, and was two years
. in the execution. I had on this occasion but an imperfect
view of the magnificent interior of the Madeleine, as it was
crowded with people even to the portico. There was a showy
ceremonial going on within. The platform in front of the
altar was filled with boys and priests in gorgeous robes, and
they were passing in incessant motion with burning candles,
genuflexions, and many bodily gesticulations. There was an
officer of almost colossal stature, a veteran of fifty, dressed
in a gold-laced cocked hat, worn crossways, a la Napoleon,
an embroidered coat, with an epaulette on one shoulder and
crimson trappings on the other, a sword, crimson plush knee
breeches, ornamented with gold, white stockings and black
shoes. This man, with an air of dignity, paraded up and
down the church, apparently to keep order. Holy water was
zealously distributed, and chiefly from a brush, which any one
who chose, touched. The chantings and music proceeded
along with the rest of the ceremonial, but I could make
nothing of the worship, and was not reluctant to withdraw to
the humble Wesleyan Chapel, hardly a stone's throw from the Made
leine. Here in a very plain, obscure building, approached by a
narrow alley from the street, I found 150 people, decently
dressed, and engaged in the simple worship of the Wesleyans.
A sensible man, of fifty years or more, preached an excellent
sermon to an attentive audience ; and I felt the service to be
far more profitable, because it was more spiritual (at least it so
appeared to me), than all the pomp and pageantry of the Ma
deleine. Both in this chapel and in the church of the English
embassy, Queen Victoria and the royal family were prayed for
with as little reserve as in England.
Club Dinner. — Twenty-five years ago, an accomplished
young Parisian gentleman passed six months in New Haven,
and I believe a year or more in the United States. He was
introduced to my family, and won our esteem and entire con
fidence ; he was also on familiar terms with many of our first

Club Dinner. 167
families, and became a general favorite. He carried away
with him very gratifying souvenirs of his American residence.
Occasional exchange of letters had kept him in mind, and he
appeared to retain a strong predilection for American society,
and to hold in high estimation our domestic happiness, and
that virtue and intelligence on which it is founded. This
gentleman we have met on our present visit, and with a kind
renewal of our earlier intimacy. I found him to be the same
agreeable and interesting man that he was in his youth.
Mr. T. invited me with my son to dine at his club, at six
o'clock, p. m. ; and being willing to see this mode of French
society, we accepted the invitation. The club embraces 500
members, from the higher ranks of society, but does not ex
clude foreign members. New members are added by election,
made after a strict scrutiny. Five hundred francs are paid on
admission, and one hundred annually afterwards, beside some
smaller contributions.
The Club-house, at' a rent of 30,000 francs per annum, is
on the Boulevard des Italiens, very near to our hotel. It con
tains a very elegant suite of rooms of ample dimensions, and
richly furnished and decorated. Drawing-rooms, sitting-rooms,
rooms for retirement and study, and reading-rooms for peri
odical works, smoking and billiard or card rooms, dining-
rooms, kitchens, &c, &c. A contractor furnishes an elegant
and ample dinner every day, and any member of the club may
dine there sumptuously, whenever he pleases, and may bring a
guest with him.
On this occasion, our friend had borrowed from another
member his privilege of introduction, and this provided' seats
for us two. on the same day. There were covers laid for forty
persons, which is as many as usually assemble.
We were introduced only to the Commissaire, the active
head of the association, and to two or three other gentlemen,
one of whom had been in New Orleans.
Mr. T. placed me between himself and an Irish gentle
man, who had been many years in Paris ; but, by his re-

168 Dejeuner a la Fourchette.
marks, he fully verified Horace's sentiment : " Cceium non
animum mutant qui trans mare currunt," for he made no
secret of his strong national prejudices. When I spoke highly
of the magnificent structures and noble institutions of France,
he replied that it was all owing to national vanity. I rejoined
that national vanity was quite a common trait, but that I
thought his country was too proud to be vain ; which he al
lowed to be true.
The dinner was excellent, and served in good taste, with a
liberal supply of excellent solid meats, which is more than is
always the case at French tables — where many odd little pre
parations, whose composition is not always understood by the
guest, are interspersed along as interludes, among more serious
matters ; and among many viands the appetite is not satisfied.
There were many servants in livery, ready to attend to every
want ; and at table one servant attended to only three or four
guests. Wine was used in great moderation, and the company,
after sitting but little more than an hour, rose without ceremony,
and quietly retired in perfect sobriety. There was nothing in
their appearance to distinguish them from gentlemen in Eng
land or America.
Among the company there were noblemen, Russian, Prus
sian, and French. Many of them were old men with snowy
heads. A French nobleman was pointed out to me on the op
posite side of the table, who has recently made a journey to
visit Henry V., Count de Chambord, son of the assassinated
Duke de Berri, and grandson of Charles X. This now exiled
prince, who, of course, regards himself as the rightful heir to
the crown of France, declared, that he would never return to
France, unless without any conditions.
April IQth. — This morning our whole party were guests at
a dejeuner a la fourchette in the apartments of our attentive
bachelor friend M. T., on the Rue des Champs Elysees. The
apartments are, of course, elegantly furnished, as the houses of
the upper classes of French society always are, embracing nume
rous objects of art and vertu — Mosaic, polished stones, and above

Scientific Artists. 169
all, a fine and elegantly-bound library of choice editions of valua
ble books. I was surprised to find among them French trans
lations of Young's Night Thoughts, and Hervey's Meditations.
We were not a little interested in turning over the pages
of our friend's album, kept when he was in Connecticut, twenty-
five years before, and rich in varied personal associations, of mu
tual acquaintances, or departed friends. Here was the name
of a belle, now a grave matron of  , since enrolled among
the female poets of America ; or of some young man, now a
gray-haired worker in life's earnest toils.
The breakfast was served about eleven o'clock, and was
really an elegant dinner, according to our estimate of a repast ;
and in the reign of Queen" Elizabeth of England it would have
been quite in time, as eleven a. m. was the court hour of din
ing. Excepting the serving of coffee, and the absence of soup,
it was in all respects a French dinner, including the wine.
For the details of the courses, I must refer to my lady com
panions. The most interesting part of the entertainment was derived
from the polished hospitality of our host, who retains the
brightness of youth in his now mature meridian of life. Ele
gant celibacy is more common in Europe than in America;
but no refinements and embellishments can compensate for the ,
absence of refined and lovely woman.
Scientific Artists. — Paris contains many scientific artists
for the construction of physical instruments, whose names have a
European, and even a cosmopolitan reputation. Such are Pixii
Duboscq (Soleil's son-in-law and successor), Deleuil, Oberbauser,
Nachet, and others. The magazines of these artists are the con
stant resort of all men of experimental science. We have had
occasion to call upon several of them, and have been struck with
their intelligence, courtesy, and skill. MM. Deleuil and Du
boscq have each given us and our friends an evening, for the
purpose of showing very brilliant and beautiful experiments
with the galvanic light. Each of them has constructed an in
strument for regulating the constancy and intensity of this light.
Vol. i.— 8

170 Scientific Artists.
By these instruments, the galvanic focus can be maintained
for seven hours of a uniform brilliancy— a result unattained by
any former arrangement of apparatus. It is effected by means
of an electro-magnet, operating somewhat in the manner of the
telegraphic register ; the power of the electro-magnet being de
pendent on the flow of the current through the carbon poles of
the instrument. The result is, that any cessation of this flow re
laxes the power of the magnet and the force of gravity in a de
scending lever, then renews the contact between the poles, and with
it the light. These movements are so instantaneous, that no
visible interruption of the light is perceived. This arrangement
enables the optician to substitute the light of the galvanic focus
for that of the sun, or ofthe oxyhydrogen blow-pipe ; and to per
form, in a most satisfactory manner, all optical experiments de
manding a powerful and steady flow of light. The apparatus
of both these artists worked to our entire satisfaction. M. De
leuil has succeeded in perfecting the manufacture of carbon
cylinders for galvanic batteries ; and we gave the preference to
his form of Bunsen's battery over all which we saw. The es
tablishment of M. Duboscq has been long celebrated (as found
ed by his father-in-law, Soleil) for the skill with which the most
elaborate and delicate optical apparatus is there constructed. All
the physical cabinets of Europe have derived some of their most
valued pieces from this establishment. Here we saw for the first
time the prismatic spectrum formed in an admirable manner from
the decomposition of the galvanic light. The colors appropri
ate to burning silver and various other metals in the focus of
this instrument, were beautifully shown upon a white screen,
and a great variety of other experiments in polarization and de
composition of light. A magnificent result was obtained by
transmitting the galvanic light from a parabolic mirror through
a box containing water, while a parabolic jet spouted from a
small orifice opposite to that where the light entered. The
effect was the bending of the light out of its rectilinear path by
the falling stream of water, which, as it dashed upon the pave
ment from the height of ten feet or more, seemed converted

French Academy. 171
into a stream of liquid fire, while only a very feeble beam could
be perceived on the opposite wall, in the direct path of the
light from the mirror. Every evening we see upon the quays
on the Seine one or more of these instruments, throwing its
powerful glare of light aslant from some window down the
river, illuminating the bridges, and rendering the surrounding
gloom more obscure.
We saw much of MM. Nachet, father and son, whose re
putation as microscopic artists is second now to none in France.
The earnest simplicity of manner, accompanied by respectful
confidence, is very striking in the scientific artists of Europe gen
erally. Many of them are men of great learning as well as
skill. Soleil is a member of the Academy of France, as
Oertling is of that in Berlin. And the savans of Europe do not
hesitate to consult them with a freedom of confidence equally
creditable to both parties.
The scientific societies of Paris are really efficient bodies,
pursuing their objects with ardor, perseverance, and success ;
membership in them is the reward of merit, and not the result
of favor. All communications are revised by able committees,
who, after a strict scrutiny, report upon them.
We looked in, for a short time, at one of the evening sit
tings of the Geographical Society, where we identified a num
ber Of men of eminence.
The French Academy is the great centre about which the
whole world of science, in a certain sense, revolves. I had the
honor of being escorted to one of its weekly sittings on Mon
day afternoon at three, by the venerable Cordier, now I believe
the only surviving member of that large corps of savans who
accompanied Napoleon to Egypt. His little work on the inter
nal heat of the earth, presenting decisive proof that the tempe
rature increases as we descend, made a great sensation in the
scientific world, and however it may at first have appeared to
savor of extravagance, his startling conclusions have been fully
established. Although M. Cordier has passed fourscore, he is
still erect, active, animated, affable, and warm in his address.

172 Library of the Louvre.
By him I was introduced to the distinguished geologist, M,
Constant Provost, professor of geology in the Sorbonne. M.
Provost has been the steady and able opponent of the elevation
theory of MM. Elie de Beaumont and Von Buch* Sitting by
his side in the centre of the long hall where the Academy holds
its sessions, I had, for a brief space, opportunity to scrutinize
the array of leading minds by which I was surrounded. Before
me, elevated upon the tribune, and with the baton of his office,
sat M. Rayer, the distinguished physician — and president for the
year. On his left, was the striking form of the perpetual sec
retary, the illustrious Arago, his face strongly marked by dark
and shaggy eyebrows, and deep lines of thought. There was
the amiable and dignified Biot, with his little velvet cap. Bou-
sangault, Payen, and Dumas, the chemists — Brongniart, Milne
Edwards, Elie de Beaumont, Leverrier, and many others
equally well known. Some of these I now saw for the first
time, as they were kindly pointed out to me by M. Provost.
There were present in the room some 200 persons — including,
of course, many not members. The room is adorned by busts
and portraits of distinguished members of past times. To reach
it, we pass through the library, and there, on going out, I en
countered M. Vattemare, so well known in America, from his
system of exchanges. He was zealous to serve me, and by him
I was escorted to the royal library in the Louvre, containing
some 85,000 volumes, and in some respects the most interesting
library in France. This library, formerly the property of Louis
Philippe, is now opened to the public at certain hours.
The librarian, a man of dignified and polished appearance,
showed me a splendid manuscript copy of the Gospels, formerly
the property of Charlemagne ; it was written out in golden
letters upon vellum, expressly for the monarch, and cost the
labor of seven years. It is still quite fresh and entire, after the
lapse of ten centuries. Its cover was once embossed with sil
ver, which in an age of rapine was torn off, and the manu-
* The death of this distinguished man is announced as these
sheets pass through the press.

Departure from Paris. 173
script thrown aside among rubbish ; but was after a while
recovered, and no part was missing. Here, also, I saw the
prayer-book of Charlemagne ; it bears the date. of 730. This
hbrary is arranged in 14 rooms ; the books are in excellent
order, and make a very handsome appearance.
The preceding remarks on Paris are to be regarded as
illustrations of only a few leading features of this great and
splendid city. If they have any value, it is derived from the
fact, that a stranger who has only a few days or weeks at his
disposal, may find, as we did, every day, interesting and valu
able objects with which to fill his hours.*
Regretting that the limits of our time precluded a longer
sojourn, at present, in Paris, and hoping for some additional
opportunities on our return from the south, we now prepared
to commence our journey to Italy and other countries, taking
our course by the usual route of Dijon — the Saone and Rhone
— Lyons — Marseilles — and Genoa.

j|$axtatt frirai fans. April 14, Tuesday.
We left Paris at eleven o'clock, a. m. We had engaged our
passages quite through to Lyons, and mounted the diligence a
mile from our hotel, in order to ride to the station house on the
northeast edge of Paris, and then to travel on the railroad to
* Among the numerous works on Paris, no one probably presents
more graphic sketches than the late production of Sir Francis Head,
1851. He picked up here and there the sticks of which his faggot is
composed ("A Faggot of French Sticks"), all over Paris, taking his
reader into all sorts of places, and making him familiar with people
of every class, and with the places, institutions, and occupations with
which they are connected. The off-hand, colloquial, often humorous,
and always lively style of the author engages attention, while the
precision of his facts communicates valuable instruction, which may
be remembered when his broad humor has been forgotten.

174 Departure from Paris.
Tonnere, without leaving our seats in the diligence. For this
purpose, the diligence, with all its passengers and luggage, is
driven beneath the roof of a machine, like the old-fashioned hay-
scales of New England, and, with its entire loading of people and
baggage undisturbed, is lifted off bodily from the wheels, and
suspended in mid-air while being transferred to a railway
truck. The Diligence. — This ponderous carriage has been so
often described, that a short notice of it will suffice. It is
divided into three distinct apartments. The coupee is in
front, and is in form almost exactly like the English post-chaise,
having one seat, sufficient for three persons, and, as there are
glass windows on the sides and in front, and the coachman's
seat is so high as not to interfere with a full view of the country,
this apartment is very pleasant, and is all that could be desired.
Three of our party including myself were here accommodated.
The middle apartment is called the interieur, and is exactly
of the form of a common coach, with two seats, to accommo
date six persons. In this, the .remainder of our party, including
the courier, were seated.
The third apartment, situated in the rear, is called the
rotonde ; it has two seats, receives six or more passengers at a
lower rate of fare, and has a door behind.
Upon the top of the diligence, and behind the coachman,
is a seat called the banquet, which will receive three persons.
There is also a conducteur, who is responsible for the baggage ;
he gives all needed information, and bestows attention upon the
comfort and safety of the passengers. A postilion, an extra
man, is always vigilant to leap off when there is occasion, to
attend to the horses, if restive, or whip them into more speed,
if lazy. Thus the full complement may be twenty persons, or
more. All the baggage goes upon the roof; it is usually a
huge pile, and is covered by a tarpaulin. The diligence, thus
loaded, weighs five or six tons ; it is actually weighed. The
launching of five of these great machines upon the railroad at
Paris, detained us, to-day, nearly an hour ; we were, in fact, pas-

Departure from Paris. 175
sengers both in the diligence and upon the rails, and proceeded
very pleasantly, on an excellent road, in the best of carriages,
and with a bright sun over our heads. Our speed was 25
miles an hour, and we arrived at Tonnere, 123 miles, in five
hours, at 4 o'clock p. m. So rapid a ride, with no opportunity
to leave the carriage, must necessarily exclude any particular
notices, except those that are historical, and those that relate to
the surface of the country.
We passed Montereau, on the left bank of the Seine, where
Napoleon fought his last battle, before the capitulation of Paris,
Feb. 18, 1814. A cross stands near the road to mark Napo
leon's position, his artillery being on both sides of the road.
The emperor, in person, took his station amidst the guns, to
direct their fire, so anxious was he to annihilate the dense
masses of the enemy that were crowding over the bridge. The
allies were driven by the French cuirassiers over the bridge,
which they had merely time to blow up to prevent the French
from following them. A bridge over the Seine marks the
place where Jean Sans Puer, Duke of Burgundy, was murder
ed by order of the dauphin, afterwards Charles VII., during a
conference which was intended to produce a reconciliation, that
the two parties might conlbine to resist the invasion of Henry
V. of England. To prevent a collision, a double barrier had
been erected between them ; but it did not avert a fatal blow
which was struck by Tanneguy du Chastel. At Sens, a town
of rather fewer than 10,000 inhabitants, are the remains of
many ancient chateaux, and of the old wall — partly Roman —
around the town. There is here also a fine old cathedral ; and
there are some personal relics of Thomas a. Becket, who, in
1164, fled from England, esaping from the anger of Henry II.
At Vallery, twelve miles west of Sens, the Grand Conde is
buried, in the church, which contains a costly monument of
marble. We passed through the forest of Fontainebleau, of vast ex
tent and formerly much frequented by the monarchs of France
for the amusement of hunting ; and this gave origin to the an-

176 Departure from Paris.
cient palace, whose towers we could merely discern as we
passed rapidly by. Louis VII. built a castle here in 1162, and
a populous town grew up under the smiles of the court, and
the influence of the Chateau Royal. Here Napoleon took
leave of the remnant of his faithful Old Guard, April 20, 1814,
previous to his abdication. The table upon which he signed
this document is covered by glass to prevent mutilation by visit
ors. Here Pope Pius VII. was confined during three years by
Napoleon — a real prisoner, although surrounded by external
honors, and sumptuously provided for. Mineralogists are ac
quainted with the so called Fontainebleau crystals of sandstone,
being really calcareous spar of the rhombohedral form, envel
oping sand, which gives them the power of scratching glass.
Splendid groups of these crystals are in the mineral gallery of
Yale College, being a part of the rich cabinet of the late Gigot
d'Orcy, who was sacrificed during the bloody reign of terror in
Paris. The country between Paris and Tonnere is very beautiful :
the verdure is intense, and the cultivation is like that of a gar
den. The farms are divided into small territories among dif
ferent proprietors. Often the fields and the slopes of the hills
exhibit a striped appearance, one portion being in grass, another
in vines, and a third covered with brilliant yellow flowers of
mustard. Vines are extensively cultivated; but not having as yet put
forth their leaves, the vineyards have an arid appearance. In
numerable bundles of sticks are piled on the fields ready to
support the vines as soon as they shall vegetate.
Tonnere to Dijon, ninety Miles. — At Tonnere we par
took of a repast, such as it was, and such as it ought not to
have been. Crowds of people rushed to the ill-provided tables in
a squalid restaurant. Our party succeeded, after some delay,
in obtaining a small private room ; but we were willing to leave
so comfortless a table as soon as possible.
Near Tonnere, we saw the chateau formerly the abode of
Admiral Coligny. It is still in good preservation, and the ter-

Tonnere to Dijon. 177
ritory is bounded by high stone walls, and by grand avenues
of trees. In another chateau, built by the brother of Coligny,
about six miles from Tonnere, secret meetings were held by the
Huguenot leaders.
The estate of Tonnere was purchased by Louis XIV., and
presented to his minister Luvois, who is interred in this
vicinity. At Tonnere our railroad terminated, and the bodies of the
diligences being again placed upon wheels, we resumed our
seats in the carriage, drawn by six horses, three being side by
side. The country from Paris had been, in general, beautifully
level, but now we ascended a long hill ; we soon perceived the
shadows of evening descending upon us, and as we were to
travel all night, we with pleasure hailed the full moon, which
seemed like an old friend, and inspired us with cheerfulness as
she threw her silver rays into our faces.
Our observation of the country through which we passed,
although aided by the lunar light, was, of course, imperfect,
but it was very evident that it was not the lovely region through
which we had travelled in the daytime. There was a succes
sion of hills of moderate elevation, but not cultivated like the
plains which we had left ; some parts appeared dreary, and we
did not so much regret that we were passing in the night.
We had, however, full opportunity to observe the admirable
manner in which the diligences are managed. We had
generally six horses, and occasionally seven and eight, and
always, when there were more than four, three or four were
harnessed side by side. With few exceptions, the horses were
very large, active, and in fine condition. They were in perfect
training, or they could hardly have been managed by one
man, and he elevated above the top of the coach. They were
rarely driven over an hour, and when we arrived at a new
station the relay of horses was always ready and waiting, and
three minutes generally sufficed for the exchange. When quite
ready in their places, although some horse more spirited than
the rest occasionally pawed the ground, and thus showed his

178 Tonnere to Dijon.
eagerness to go, no horse moved ; like drilled soldiers, they
stood, waiting the word of command, and the instant the peculiar
shrill cry was heard, which the French coachmen always utter
at the moment of departure, the powerful team would dart for
ward with wonderful energy, springing to their work as if they
loved it. Not unfrequently the team of eight horses, four abreast,
went off in a full gallop, and the heavy diligence bounded
after them, as if it had been a common coach. Their speed
was fully eight miles in an hour, which is surprising when it is
considered that they draw from 1500 to 2000 pounds each,
according to the number of horses. The roads are so firm,
smooth and wide, that even when there are four horses abreast,
they have abundant room. It is amusing and interesting to
those in the coupee to see these almost intelligent animals go
off at high speed, at the sound of the coachman's voice, or
the crack of his whip, nor do they relent until they arrive at
the station where they expect to be released. If the horses
were not large and powerful animals, and their natural energy
undiminished by mutilation, they could never perform their
arduous duty. The diligence* is, however, about to disappear
on this road, and whoever travels upon it next year, will find
that the rails have supplanted the horses, between Tonnere
and Dijon. Sleep in brief naps may be enjoyed in the dili
gence, as we found during the last night, and therefore, arriv
ing at Dijon, 213 miles from Paris, at 5 o'clock, a. m., we
were soon in a condition to be active again.
* Rope harness has in a good degree, but not entirely, disappear
ed from the diligences ; we have had ropes for traces, but the pos
tilion did not, as in more ancient times, mount one of the horses ; and
the enormous jack boots, rising above the knee, have also disappeared.

Dijon. 179

§JJ0tt. April 16, 1851.
As is usual in France, we drove into a court, passing through
the house by an arched passage, and found ourselves in a hol
low square in the yard of the diligence office, surrounded by
high stone walls. The diligence is not so obliging a vehicle as
the stage coach in America ; it never waits upon the travellers
at their houses or hotels, but they are expected to come to the
diligence office, transporting their luggage as best they may. In
Paris, we had walked a mile or more from our hotel to seek the
diligence, and now, like passengers arrived in a ship, we left our
craft at her moorings, and, under the guidance of our attentive
courier, walked to the Hotel de la Cloche, the best in the city.
Here, a similar entrance into a dirty court, gave us no great
promise of the comfort which those who had been travelling
through the night required ; and Francois brought us the not
very agreeable intelligence that the house was full. They,
however, showed us into the Salle a Manger (eating room),
where there was a little warmth, but not a very agreeable odor
from the stale fumes of food. Soon, another room (both
were on the ground floor, and opening into the foul court)
was provided for washing, although without soap,* which,
even in Paris, the traveller is expected to provide for himself.
After some delay, the ladies also found an apartment, and
our ablutions completed, we were in a condition to enjoy an
early breakfast of bread and butter, coffee, eggs and mutton
chop, all of which articles are excellent in the north and west
of France. Thus refreshed, we were ready for an active day,
which was at our disposal in this ancient and interesting city.
¦* This we found to be the fact all over the Continent ; we no
where found soap on our washstands except at Meurice's, Rue Rivoli,
Paris, where many English and Americans resort.

180 Dijon.
Dijon contains 26,000 inhabitants, and is the old capital
of the Duchy of Burgundy, now the chief place of the depart
ment de la Cdte d'Or. As in all the French provincial towns,
the houses are crowded together on narrow streets, in general,
without any particular attention to symmetry and neatness ;
they are universally of stone, the roofs usually of tile, often
covered with moss or soiled and rusty with age. Many of
the larger towns are adorned by public squares. Dijon, with
its grand cathedral, numerous churches, public institutions,
and ducal palace, wears an air of sombre dignity and great
age, strongly in contrast with the light and airy aspect of our
recent, newly painted, and quiet rural towns. There is in Eu
rope no parallel to our villages and smaller towns, where all is
new and comparatively temporary.
In the transient views which we are taking of European
cities, I must decline the attempt, which is often both tiresome
and unsuccessful, to describe, with much detail, churches, cathe
drals, palaces, fortresses and castles. A few striking features
I may attempt to sketch, and, in general, these are all which
the rapid traveller carries away, and all which the succeeding
traveller and the reader of his narrative would care to notice.
The churches of Dijon have a castellated appearance, and
some of them, like the temple at Jerusalem, are desecrated ;
for even a Protestant feels the gross incongruity of converting,
as we have seen here, one old church into a market for wheat,
and another into cavalry barracks, while the ancient chapels
and cloisters were filled with hay and straw. While deploring
this misuse of things sacred, we could not forget, that, during
the American Revolution, the old South Church in Boston, and
the Dutch Presbyterian Church in New- York, were despoiled
of their pews by the Protestant British, and converted into
riding-schools for the cavalry.
Some of the churches in Dijon are, however, in good
keeping and high preservation. Notre Dame is a fine Gothic
structure ; on the clock-tower are two figures, whose ham
mers strike the hour, as formerly did those of St. Dunstan, in

Palace of the Dukes of Burgundy. 181
the Strand in London. The clock was brought in 1382 from
Flanders, by the then Duke of Burgundy, Philip le Hardi,
who, as is justly remarked, should rather have been called the
cruel, as he plundered and burned the town, where it was ob
tained, and massacred the inhabitants. In this church the
people were at worship, but we walked quietly around ; they
were apparently poor people ; most of them were on their
knees upon the cold stone floor and counting their beads.
The great cathedral stands on the site of one more ancient ;
the present building is very large and grand, and abounds in
statues and pictures.
I suppose it was in this building that the celebrated French
chemist, Guyton de Morveau, performed an early and then
novel experiment. The air of the church having become
offensive from the putrefaction of the corpses beneath the
pavement, Morveau, at the request of the magistrates, purified
the atmosphere, by the decomposition of common salt by sul
phuric acid ; the vessel being placed on a pan of coals, the
church was soon filled with muriatic (hydro-chloric) acid gas ;
the church was then closed until the next day, when it being
opened and ventilated, the miasm had disappeared.
The Cathedral has two grand towers and an arrow-like
steeple, very high and acute, springing out of the body of the
building. Although it is said to be in general harmony with
the rest of the structure, it appeared to me a deformity.
Dijon has an Academy of Science and Belles-Lettres,
founded in 1725. This academy has numerous published vo
lumes of transactions, and among its active members is M.
Alexis Perrey, well known for his researches on the phenomena
of earthquakes. There are also here a school for the Fine
Arts, a collection in Natural History, an Astronomical Obser
vatory, and good public Libraries. The manufacture of aro
matic mustard is an important branch of industry in Dijon.
Palace- of the Dukes of Burgundy. — This ancient castle
is in the midst of the city. It is on flat ground, and not ele
vated, as many similar fortresses were in ancient times.

182 Palace of the Dukes of Burgundy.
This structure is still very imposing. It was the palace of
the Dukes of Burgundy until after the union of that Duchy to
the crown of France, when it became the Palace des Etats.
The front on the street is modern, although it is in keeping
with the rest of this vast quadrangle, which, as usual, is entered
through a portal in the building, leading to a hollow square.
This construction rendered the whole castle susceptible of de
fence. With closed gates and grated windows, and archers on
the towers, or musketeers and cannon, since the invention of
gunpowder, such fortresses became capable of sustaining a
siege. Exposure to attack doubtless induced the wealthy, in
centuries past, to construct their houses in a similar manner, in
hollow squares, with grated windows, or with no windows in the
basement, and with strong gates, as we find them in Paris
and elsewhere, even at the present day.
The interior court furnishes also a convenient access to the
entire establishment, which, being extended into a complete
quadrangle, forms a great circuit, and is capable of affording
large accommodation. Carriages are driven into the court,
where there is usually sufficient room to turn.
Two sides of the quadrangle of the palace of the Dukes of
Burgundy are now occupied as a garrison, by soldiers. In the
other two sides of the quadrangle, the rooms are preserved in
their ancient splendor, and perhaps they are even more beauti
ful than they were originally, for they have been restored by
Louis Philippe, and now make a fine appearance.
There is an extensive picture gallery, in which many of the
pictures are large, and some of them are worthy of notice.
The principal attractions of this ducal palace are authentic
articles representing the history and arts of the middle ages.
We viewed these things with great interest. Among them is a
splendid crosier of St. Robert, the first Abbot of the Cister
cian order ; the richness of the gold is strongly contrasted
with the brilliancy of the ruby which it incloses ; the size and
lustre of the latter, however, countenance the suspicion that it
may be factitious. The wooden cup of the good St. Bernard

Palace of the Dukes of Burgundy. 183
is also there, as is the toilet of the Duchess of Burgundy, ele
gantly carved, and furnished with boxes and caskets of ivory.
The Tombs of Philip le Hardi, 1342, to 1404jand of his
son and successor, Jean Sans Puer, 1371, to 1419,* are very
venerable structures. They are large and high, and are beau
tifully wrought in marble, the figures being of full size, and
recumbent on the tombs. Philip le Hardi is in his ducal
robes. It has been already mentioned that he massacred the
people of a village in the Netherlands, and, as if vengeance
was not allowed to slumber, his son was basely murdered by
his rival, the Duke of Orleans, as before mentioned, at the
bridge of Montereau, September 10, 1419 ; and now the atro
cious deed is recalled by the sight of the tomb of the noble
victim. There is a picture in one of the rooms showing his dead
body, with a horrid gaping wound in his forehead, through
which his skull was cleft by the battle-axe with which he was
slain. When Francis I. visited the Chartreuse, the body
was shown to him ; and, pointing to the gash in the skull, he
said, " Through that the English entered France."
A beautiful cloister is wrought in alabaster beneath the
tomb of le Hardi, and also beneath that of Jean Sans Puer, in
which the monks are represented, with very expressive faces, as
mourning on account of the death of their patrons. These
miniature groups are very natural, and exhibit every variety of
expression for grief, in numerous figures, only a few inches in
height. We were conducted into a large apartment, which was the
reception-room of the great Conde.
In that apartment in which are the sepulchral monuments,
there are suits of armor, entire and perfect, as they were worn
in the heroic age ; they are burnished steel, and are accompa
nied by ancient swords, some of them of enormous length.
The ancient convent of the Chartreuse, near the city, has
* Birth and death.

184 To Chalons.
been converted into a retreat for the insane, and when we
were there, a lunatic girl, with true French gayety, was dancing
on the green-sward and clapping her hands. Within the same
area of ground, there is a fountain called the Well of Moses ; it
is surrounded by a group of statues of holy men, patriarchs and
others, whose countenances are admirably expressive.
Dijon has been the birthplace of many eminent men —
Bossuet, Guyton de Morvean, St. Bernard (in the vicinity).
The city is surrounded by beautiful public walks, and the old
ramparts form elevated terraces.
" A fortified camp, constructed by Caesar, gave origin to
Dijon. Marcus Aurelius caused it to be surrounded by walls."
Encircled by a belt of foliage, its appearance to the approach
ing traveller is agreeable.

%a €\m\ttm. April IT, 1851.
A fine railroad, through a most beautiful country, and fur
nished with excellent carriages, bore us in two hours (forty-
three miles) to Chalons.
On both sides, as far as the eye could reach, or the bound
ing mountains of the C6te d'Or on the west would allow us
to see, the fields were in the highest state of cultivation;
when the track of the road ran high enough to overlook them,
they appeared like gardens rather than farms. We were in
the very region of the finest wines of Burgundy ; and the fields,
particularly on the slopes of hills, were occupied chiefly by
vines. Many other crops were in preparation — maize, potatoes,
&c. ; while brilliant yellow blossoms of the mustard plant, cover
ed wide tracts, and formed a striking contrast with the bright
verdure. The vines are planted in trenches, about two feet apart, and
are trained to poles thirty to forty inches high. In the best

Chalons. 185
vineyards, the vines are very old, and when replaced by others,
a larger crop, but of inferior quality, is obtained.
We passed Beaune, which contains 10,000 inhabitants,
and was the birth-place of the mathematician Monge, the cele
brated savant, a personal friend of Napoleon, and who was one
of his Egyptian corps.
In travelling more than 400 miles through the rural dis
tricts of France, we have seen only a quiet, industrious popu
lation, peaceable in their habits, and, as far as we have had
intercourse with them, courteous and kind in their manners.
We have seen no rudeness, no broil or tumult — have observed
no one who was not decently clad, or who appeared to be ill
fed. We are told, however, that the French peasantry live
upon very small supplies of food, and in their houses are satis
fied with very humble accommodations. Except in Paris, we
have seen no instance of apparent suffering, and few cases even
there ; nor have we seen a single individual intoxicated or
without shoes and stockings.
Chalons. — We were safely quartered before night in this
town of 12,000 inhabitants. Our rooms looked out directly
upon the Saone, whose rapid stream, active with small steam
boats and other water craft, and a rich and beautiful country
on the other side, formed a pleasing picture. There is a fine
promenade along the river, whose bank is defended by a
massy wall of hewn stone, connected by iron bands, and a se
ries of steps, also of hewn stone, descend to the water. This
is only one example of that solidity and thoroughness of construc
tion which we every where observe in the public works of this
country. Every thing appears to be done for perpetuity, and
nothing for fugitive and transient effect.
We visited a large cathedral, in which there was a numer
ous assembly, gathered by the passion week. In another
church, on the opposite side of the river, we found a hospital of
sick soldiers — certainly a much better use than the abuse of
temples of worship which we witnessed at Dijon.
From this place, which is the head of steam navigation,

186 Chalons to Lyons.
there is much activity of business flowing in from the interior
of France, and down the river. Chalons is said to be the an
cient Cabillonum of the Romans. We were unable to visit
a fine granite column, which is attributed to that people.
Having travelled through the preceding night, we were grateful
for the repose which this quiet town afforded ; and being quite
willing to exchange the land for the water, we engaged our
passage in the steamer Hirondele, a river boat, to proceed to
morrow, at eight o'clock.

€\nhn to f pis.
April 16.
On a bright and beautiful morning, our river steamer, long
and narrow, favored by the current, and filled with passengers
and freight, darted rapidly forward, and made her passage of
100 miles in somewhat less than seven hours. The scenery was
mild and delicately beautiful ; but it was neither picturesque
nor grand until we approached Lyons. I availed myself of the
leisure on board to peruse a history of Louis Napoleon's impris
onment, and of his escape from the prison of Ham, including
also a sketch of his invasion of France. Strange vicissitudes
of events ! The prisoner of Ham, who, after a confinement of
five years and nine months, made his escape, almost by a mira
cle, was, at last, by a voluntary movement on the part of the
French people, elevated to the supreme dominion of this vast
empire. An anxious crisis is impending in France, and the
never silent tongue of fame will proclaim the result !* Through
the entire distance of 100 miles, villages and towns frequently
occurred, but their names would possess little interest. I will,
however, mention a few.
* Thus I wrote fourteen months ago, when all Europe was looking
to the expected crisis of the election of May, 1852. The trumpet
of fame has long since proclaimed, that it has been anticipated by
the coup d'etat of December 2, 1851, which made the President a
Despot.

Chalons to Lyons. 187
Tournus, a town of over 5300 inhabitants, was the birth
place of the celebrated painter Greuse, who died in Paris in
1805. Macon, the centre of a great wine trade, with 12,000
inhabitants, makes a considerable figure from the water. La-
martine, the celebrated poet and orator, was born at this place.
Here a bridge of thirteen arches crosses the river, and from it
a view of Mont Blanc is obtained.
During our passage down this river, we observed striking
evidences of commercial activity, in the frequent passage of
steamers, having in tow long lines of freight boats, heavily
laden, and gliding smoothly over this peaceful stream. Quiet
as it now is, it occasionally undermines its banks, which, in
several places, were sliding into the water. We were much
impressed also by the great number and excellence of the
bridges over the Saone, beginning at Chalons. Several were of
stone ; and we admired their solid and beautifully hewn arches,
laid with perfect symmetry, in graceful curves. The greater
number however were suspension bridges, having the usual
elegant appearance of that kind of structure. Generally a
high pillar was erected in the middle of the river, and the sus
pending chains or wire ropes were passed over it, making two
curves, resting upon pillars less elevated on the shores.
Among the passengers, who numbered probably from
seventy to eighty persons, there was, as in our American steam
ers, every variety of personal appearance. There was not,
either among the passengers or the crew of the boat, any par
ticular appearance of gayety of spirits : all were well behaved
and decently clad.
As we approached Lyons, the banks of the Saone, before
tame, although beautiful, became, especially on the right bank,
bold and picturesque. Both sides rose into hills and rocky
cliffs, and habitations became numerous ; many of them were
perched upon the high banks, where deep sections had been
cut by art in the rocks, by Agrippa, to form a military road ;
and some had the appearance of villages.
As we came within the confines of the city, the houses re-

188 Lyons.
treated far enough from the river to afford room for a wide
quay; and on both sides a street, with lofty walls of stone,
rose abruptly to the height generally of six stories. Every
thing bore the appearance of solidity and strength. For
many miles above Lyons, and immediately contiguous to the
water, the banks of the river were fenced by a firm wall of hewn
stone, laid up in the most solid and beautiful form. We had also
observed the same fact at all the small towns and villages that
lay upon the river ; and universally, the banks were provided
with long stone steps, so that an easy and safe ascent from and
to the water, was in that manner secured.

Being in no haste, our party remained quiet on board
the boat until the other passengers and the freight were
landed. In the mean time, we were at liberty to observe and
speculate upon the panorama, both living and stationary,
around us. Here we were in the midst of the ancient city of
Lyons, in the interior of France — a city whose very lofty
houses, as already mentioned, spring up from high river banks.
We were in a living gorge — a deep valley; whose bustling pop
ulation instantly fixed our attention.
Numerous porters were eager to carry every thing ashore :
while the agents of hotels and omnibuses, with their cards, were
prompt, but not obtrusive. All except ourselves were press
ing up the plank that gave them a passage to terra firma. We
beheld with astonishment the loads that were piled upon the
backs of the porters, and could not have imagined that human
shoulders could have sustained, or human limbs transported
such an enormous weight. Large boxes of merchandise, such
as with us would be laid upon a dray, are borne away by two or
three men ; and sometimes several such boxes were strapped or
corded together, and lifted by other men upon the head and
shoulders of the porter, who derived some protection from a

Lyons. 189
thick hat, furnished with a flap and pad, and lying like an
apron upon the shoulders.
We were equally amazed to see travelling trunks piled upon
the men in the same manner. Three or four trunks, large ones,
such as are now commonly used by travellers, were banded in
to one mass, and then covered by hat boxes, valises, and travel
ling secretaries — such a mass as would load a barrow, and be
no mean freight for a dray, was raised, by the united efforts of
two or three men, to the head and shoulders of the courageous
porter, who received his load with more than the patience, and
almost with the strength of a camel ; then he ascended the
plank and the bank, without staggering or complaining, and
with resolute good humor. If any one happened to be in his
way, he would politely say, " Monsieur, pardonnez moi ! "
We should have pitied these men if they had appeared to
pity themselves ; but they evidently regarded it as a common
affair, and they were the best judges.
Quid valeant humeri quid ferre recusent.
Among our fellow-passengers on the Atlantic steamer,
was a French gentleman from Lyons, doing business in New-
York. Having formed his acquaintance, he most kindly prof
fered his services in our behalf in case we should visit Lyons.
We owe it to the polite attentions of this gentleman, M. A  ,
that our apartments were already engaged at the Hotel de
l'Univers, Rue de la Republique, ci-devant Rue Bourbon.
Names, if not things, are greatly changed in France by the
events of their last revolution. Liberte, Equalite, Fraternite,
are every where inscribed conspicuously upon all public build
ings, prisons excepted ; but we observed that, with commendable
prudence, as if anticipating the time when these honeyed words
will become treasonable, they are not cut into the stone, but
only painted, so that they can be easily effaced.*
* We did not, however, anticipate that within eight months from
that time a despotic decree would go forth to rub out those pregnant '
words, as they were supplanted by a strong military despotism, under
which there is neither liberte", equalite", nor fraternity.

190 Lyons.
Our hotel is kept by an Englishman, Mr. Glover, from Lei
cestershire, with a French partner. We had excellent accom
modations—rooms and beds clean and good, with prompt at
tendance and courteous manners.
Having some time after dinner, we walked to the public
square, La Belle Cour, a few yards from our hotel. It contains
probably fifteen acres. In the centre of the square there is a
large equestrian statue of Louis XIV. in bronze, mounted
upon a high pedestal. The horse is admirable for form and
position, and the rider has a Roman aspect.
The square was all alive with people, walking in every
direction, as for a promenade, and children were amusing
themselves with puerile gymnastics. A man was bearing
on his shoulders an establishment of toy windmills and
other trifles, while the wind kept his light wheels in motion.
Boys were playing at leap-frog, and one man attracted much
attention by a team of goats, three in number, harnessed
abreast, to a little coach, the harness adorned with silver and
connected by chains. The goats were in fine condition, and
seemed well pleased to draw their juvenile load. Crowds of
people were streaming into the square, and one street seemed
a moving river of human beings. As we proceeded into it,
the concourse was explained. It being holy week, the churches
were thronged, and the church of St. John, a very large build
ing, which we entered, was almost filled with worshippers.
Long rows of candles were burning about the high altar, while
crowds of priests were performing mass.
April 18. — The next morning we visited the same church
again, and found it equally full, and the candles burning as
on the preceding evening.
We rode extensively through the town, and visited several
institutions and public buildings.
We saw the Hotel de Ville (a. d. 1447 to '55), * a very
large building of the middle ages, as its appearance, with
* Time of building.

Lyons — Manufactures. 191
lofty roofs and bold projections, indicated. It is on a square
called Place des Terreaux. In this square in 1794, during
the reign of terror, the guillotine deluged the pavement with
blood. In this building sat the revolutionary tribunal, which
under Challier, before the siege of Lyons, and after it, under
Couthon, Collot d'Herbois and Fouche, dispatched many
thousand human beings by the guillotine and the fusillade.
Collot d'Herbois, the chief of these tyrants, had been an
actor, and in that capacity, had been here hissed off the stage.
He vowed vengeance against the town, and amply did the
savage glut his desire by the sword and the dagger.

iterant— UitmtfaxterM— toap.
We made a rapid visit to the Museum of the Arts and of
Natural History. It occupies the vast quadrangle of a build
ing formerly belonging to a convent. Here is an extensive
picture gallery, and there are large collections in all branches
of Natural History. Among the mineralogical specimens we
noticed a fine suite of copper ores from Chessy, near Lyons, long
celebrated for its green and blue malachites, and for its octohe-
dral crystals of ruby oxide of copper. Among many interesting
Roman remains, we saw the bronze table containing the speech
made in the Roman senate by Claudius, when Censor, on the
occasion of the question of admitting a part of Gaul to the
privileges of Roman citizenship. The letters are cut in bronze,
and remain perfectly distinct and well defined, as if they had
been done yesterday. The plate was discovered on the heights
of St. Sebastian in 1528. Claudius was a native of Lyons.
Two young gentlemen, from the mercantile house of our
friend M. A., attended us to show the manufactures. Both
devoted themselves to our entertainment during three or four
hours ; one of them, a native of Lyons, was perfectly at home
in all the details of the manufactures. In a carriage, as far as
it would serve, and afterwards on foot, we clambered up the

192 Lyons — Manufactures.
steeps of this almost mountain city, and ascended even to the
attics of several of those houses that rise to a very inconvenient
elevation. Not only did we find the houses usually six stories
high, but some of them were seven, eight and even nine stories.
Mr. B. assured us that he knew of one of fourteen stories, on the
side of a hill, and that all the flats were inhabited. In these
lofty houses, and sometimes in their highest chambers, even to
the ninth story, we found the silk weavers and design makers
at their work. We saw not only plain silks, but rich figured
brocades and damasks ; costly shawls were growing into beauty
and splendor, when the elements, as in the case of the Gobelin
tapestry and carpets at Paris, were only colored threads. When
you stand by and see the forming process, advancing under
your eyes, and hear the explanations, and are permitted to in
spect every step as narrowly as you please, it appears after all,
like magic, because the effect seems so far to surpass the cause.
We saw executed by the loom, in black silk, on a white
ground, a beautiful portrait of Jacquard, the inventor of the
silk loom, and also portraits of Prince Albert and Queen Vic
toria, both exquisitely done by the loom, and destined for the
Crystal Palace in London.
From these silk looms we went to the pattern makers ;
who, having the pattern to enlarge, put the picture into a
sort of magic lantern case and project its shadow on the wall,
having first placed some ruled paper, such as is used for Ber
lin worsted patterns, in the focus. Then with a pencil they
trace the outline and afterwards color it. It is now in a con
dition to be read. This is done by having as many threads or
twine strings as correspond to the number of squares on the
pattern ; they are arranged in such a manner, with a sort of
needle threaded on them, that if any one is pushed back it
gives an impetus to the needle to move a bit of iron, which
just fills up the perforations upon a steel die that is used in
cutting the cards. This die has a certain number of lines of
holes, and when these are used another is taken, and the cards
that are cut by them are all numbered. The picture of Queen

Lyons — Manufactures. 193
Victoria and Prince Albert, with the young Prince of Wales,
took 40,000 of these cards to make the pattern. This was woven
in shades of black and white to correspond to an engraving, and
at a short distance it could not be distinguished from one.*
The aspect of the poor weavers is miserable ; they look as if
they had not enough to eat, and are haggard and pale. The
rooms are filled with looms, and in some dark closet stands the
bed and in another the kitchen. In all the stories, even to the
ninth, there are looms, but the different flats have no connection
with each other, except that the people pass through a common
entry, usually foul and offensive, and the stairs are often steep
and tortuous. A carriage being a rare spectacle in these
steep and winding streets and lanes, we were much gazed at.
Some of our party went to see the velvet manufactory on the
other side of the Rhone. They saw both plain velvet and
plaid, under the hands of the weaver, and were surprised to see
how simple the process was. Small wires of brass are used
which have a little • longitudinal groove in them, and as the
shuttle is thrown, one of these is inserted like a mesh to make
the pile, and a small knife is used to cut the mesh when two
have been put in. After it is all completed, a man with a
knife of the width of the velvet and a long handle, cuts off all
the tall heads, and is very skilful in reducing the whole to an
even thickness. They went also to see the complicated ma
chine for making lace tulle. The owner of this loom, an Eng
lishman, was most obliging in explaining it, and even took it to
pieces to make it the more intelligible. It makes four breadths,
and he has another which makes nine, but it was not then in
operation. * The artist, a plain man, who exhibited to us this optical process,
refused money which I offered him, and his manner evinced a feeling
almost of displeasure, that I should suppose he would receive a re
ward for an exhibition which was really very curious, and cost him
some time and trouble.
This was the only instance of the kind which we met with in any
country of Europe.
Vol. r. — 9

194 Lyons.
At the shawl dressers, they saw the process of cutting off
the under woof, and also that of shearing them on the right
side, and however rough and dirty they look, they seem to
grow brighter and brighter every time the iron passes over
them. They saw also the more common kind of shawls
washed and dried, in a very few minutes, by being put into a
copper vessel with a strainer and an inner cylinder. The cover
is screwed on tight, and it is whirled very rapidly for three
minutes. They found the workmen on this side of the river looking
much better and happier.
Among a population of 200,000 in Lyons, there are
60,000 looms, of which 12,000 are at present idle, and con
sequently there is distress among the manufacturers, who num
ber 80,000. The price of the raw material, obtained chiefly
from the neighborhood and from Italy, is at present high, and
that ofthe manufactured articles is low.
The General of this military district has now 40,000 men
under his command, with a large proportion of cavalry ; there
are 15,000 soldiers in the city, and the whole force can, at a
short notice, be concentrated. We meet troops every where ;
many of them appear to be idle, wandering about the streets
as they do in Paris. Most of them are young men, in the
very prime of life, and a considerable number are in early
youth.

fill imxtim— Wxtti torn t\t %aMx.
Lyons stands on a tongue of land lying between the rivers
Saone and Rhone. Both rivers have a considerable current,
and the Rhone, coming from the high and snowy Alps, is
liable to sudden increase, from the melting of the snows. It
appears, at present, to be much swollen from that cause. It
flows with so much force as to turn the wheels of floating mills
anchored in it. Both rivers are turbid.

Hill Fourviere. 195
On the eastern side of the Rhone the country is level,
and stretches away interminably in one vast plain, on which
are numerous houses, extending far beyond the boundaries
of the city. The Rhone is the eastern of the two rivers. The
land on the west side of the • Saone rises abruptly into high
hills, and the city is built sloping up to the top, which, is
630 feet above the Saone. There is, therefore, an upper and
a lower town, and the approach to the former from the latter,
is by stone stairs of ample dimensions, rising up the hills
where they are too steep to be ascended directly by horses
and carriages, whose route is of course circuitous. The
houses that rise along up the declivity of the hills until they
crown the summit, make a very conspicuous appearance.
While the houses in Lyons are generally very high, the streets
are very nan-ow ; in general only wide enough for two car
riages to pass with care, and sometimes they admit of only
one. The immense walls of hewn stone, which rise on both
sides to a giddy height, give the streets a very confined appear
ance ; they are ill ventilated, often filthy, and in dark and
gloomy weather they are very cheerless.
The ascent to the high tower called Fourviere can be made,
although rather laboriously, on foot, by mounting the stone
stairs that lead from the lower to the upper town, but we pre
fen-ed a long circuit in a carriage along the line of the fortifi
cations. The ancient Lyons was built first upon these hills, which
were occupied by the Romans, because the site of what is now
the lower town was marshy and malarious, and the junction
of the two rivers (such has been the progress of alluvial accu
mulation) was two or three miles higher up, than the place
where the Belle Cour Square now is. A temple to Augustus
was afterwards built on the spot where the Hospital of the In
valids now stands. Upon these bills as well as below, many
Roman monuments have been found, and a great collection
of altars, tombs, sarcophagi, and other imperishable monuments
of Roman power, now occupies the lower corridor of the ancient

196 Lyons.
convent. The inscriptions have been pencilled over with red
paint to make them more distinct ; so that they are now quite
legible and afford a rare treat to the antiquary. Many of the
inscriptions are tributes to departed friends, and they often
begin " MEMORISE ETERNjE,"
whether the letters M. D. in capitals, which are inscribed on all
the monuments, mean Magno or Maximo Divo, I leave to the
antiquaries to decide. In Rome itself we often have the same
letters, especially on sepulchral monuments.
There was here among the monuments an immense stone
bath, in two divisions, with a stone partition between, all exca
vated from one solid mass of rock. It was evidently a double
bath and not a sarcophagus, because there were orifices for
letting in the water and for letting it out ; or, if it had ever
been a sarcophagus, it had been converted into a bath. But
there were in the collection several indubitable sarcophagi.
As we ascended the hills, we passed very high stone walls,
crowned with battlements and furnished with loop-holes and
embrasures. It is quite obvious, even to an unmilitary eye, that
all this array of fortresses on a commanding acropolis, has but
one object in view, that is to awe the insurrectionists of Lyons,
and to crush them should they again rise, whether impelled by
hunger or by ultra revolutionary views.
There are 18 forts in a circuit of 12£ miles around the
town, and 6000 men would garrison them. They command
the lofty suburb of the Silk weavers which was the scene of the
insurrection of 1831 and 1834, and the suppression of which
cost 1000 lives.
At last we came to the summit of the hill at the foot of the
tower, 630 feet above the Saone. An ancient church first
attracted our attention, with a devout inscription in Latin, to
the Virgin. Her interposition is stated in the inscription over
the door to have saved Lyons from the cholera. This church
is enriched with votive offerings, paintings, &c, with -which its

Hill Fourviere. 197
walls are covered to the number of 4000. Below, in the city,
we saw an appeal to the Virgin for salvation.
We ascended a tower called " the observatory," erected on
speculation, a franc for entrance money and for the use of the
telescopes being paid by each visitor. We did not need a tel
escope to enable us to range with delight over the glorious pros
pect — a perfect panorama of surpassing richness and grandeur.
Behind us was the chain of mountains, including the volcanic
regions of Auvergne, which had formed our S. W. boundary,
all the way from Dijon. At our feet was the city of Lyons, its
buildings and squares appearing quite distinct, but softened in
all their features, the offensive courts and alleys being veiled ;
the town was mapped out to the eye in its whole extent along
and between the two rivers ; the Saone, a few miles above the
city being occasionally lost to the vision in its windings among
the hills, and the mountain-bom Rhone, visible for many and
many a league, in the direction towards its native glaciers, and
flowing cold and rapid, is hastening to mingle its gelid waters
with the warmer Mediterranean. We could also easily imag- -
ine that its almost intelligent current, could tell us if it would,
of the lake of Geneva through which it has passed, and of the
noble intellectual city on its banks, and of many a town along
which it has flowed, and of scenes of deep historical interest
which its waters have laved. At our feet also was the point
of union of the two rivers, the nuptials of the powerful alpine
flood with the milder waters of central France.
But, far off, in the boundary of the eastern horizon, we de
scried, with strong emotion, the snowy cliffs and ridges and
slopes of the Dauphinese Alps; they stretched^ away to the
right and to the left in a circle of fifty miles, and some of them
probably to twice that distance. Mont Blanc itself, 100
miles off, can be seen from this place, in a fine sky, and by an
instructed observer.
This hill of Fourviere was, in early ages, a scene of fearful
enormities. Septimius Severus, who, at a blow, cut off the
¦British Druids in Anglesea, here showed equal severity towarda

198 Christian Martyrs.
the Christians of the second century, whom he massacred as
is recorded, to the number of 19,000,* and threw their remains
into a pit or well whose mouth may still be seen— as is said—
beneath the crypt of the Church of St. Irene, who was martyred
here. The site of this church is visible from the tower or
observatory. It is asserted that the well overflowed with the
blood of the Christians. The pit must indeed have been deep
and large to have contained so many human beings. The
slaughter of the early Christians was not confined to this hill.
A great number were slain on the other side of the Rhone, near
or beneath the Church of the Expiation. Polycarp preached
where the Church of St. Lene stands. He and St. Pothinus
were original propagators of the Gospel in Lyons, and both suf
fered martyrdom; Blandina also was murdered here; after
being scorched in the fire she was thrown to the wild beasts.
I have already alluded to the massacres by the guillotine
in front ofthe Hotel de Ville in 1793-4.
The same perpetration took place on a great scale upon the
other side of the Rhone. The human butchers of those times,
with Collot d'Herbois at their head, not satisfied with the com
paratively tardy murder of victims by the guillotine, caused the
citizens of Lyons to be arranged in dense masses and lines on
the other side of the Rhone, and thus they were slaughtered by
hundreds at a stroke, by discharges of artillery, and still many
of the victims, although lacerated and mortally wounded, lin
gered on for many hours in agony, and were dispatched at
length by the butts of the muskets or by the swords of the
brutal soldiery. My own life having been coincident with the
whole era of the French Revolution and its concomitant and
consequent wars, I received at the time an indelible impression
of its atrocities, and especially of those of Lyons.
All is peaceful here now; and there are no remaining
marks of those horrid transactions, except a monumental
* This number is given on the authority of a small volume re
cently published here upon the history and antiquities of Lyons.

Lyons to Valence. 199
church over the remains of this cannonade. Lyons, the second
city in France, has many important institutions, which our
time did not permit us to visit. The public library, of 92,000
printed volumes, is the best provincial collection in France.
It suffered very much by the bombardment in 1793 ; and the
National Guard, by which it was occupied as a barrack, " light
ed their fires, and boiled their coffee with the volumes, which
they employed in preference to any other combustible. A
cart-load of books was sent to a, magistrate in the country every
decade, for the same purpose ; and the reason assigned by him
for the sacrifice was, that in the age of reason they did not
need books of devotion.
Lyons is adorned by many fine bridges — eight or ten over
the Saone, and seven over the Rhone. There are several sus
pension bridges, but most of the bridges are of solid stonework.
Several have colossal lions carved in stone, and reposing at the
entrance and exit, as if to guard the passengers.
The church of Notre Dame, near the Observatory, is on the
site of the Forum of Trajan. Lyons was a favorite residence
of some of the Roman emperors. Augustus and Severus re
sided here. There are remains of a vast aqueduct, constructed
by the soldiers of Mark Anthony ; and the four great roads of
Agrippa, leading towards the Pyrenees, to the Rhine, to the
Ocean, and to Marseilles, may be traced out.
We left Lyons with a vivid impression of its importance, of
the great beauty of the region, of the deep interest connected
with its history, and still with fearful forebodings of impending
calamity.

f pis to Mmtt
April 16.
We took our ' departure at noon in a steamer for Valence,
which is situated on the Rhone, sixty miles below Lyons, and
nearly half the way to Avignon. The boat did not leave Ly-

200 Vienne.
ons at an hour sufficiently early to reach Avignon that night,
and we, therefore, stopped at Valence over Sunday.
Our passage down the Rhone was very interesting. The
weather was fine, and a summer temperature, which we felt
first at Lyons, had now overtaken us after a cheerless month.
The air had been prevailingly chill and raw ; and our fires,
since we left England, where coal is always a resource foi
warmth, had been limited to a scanty supply of wood.
Vienne. — The first place which we passed possessing any
interest was Vienne, a Roman town of ancient Gaul. Ruins
of a Roman temple are' still in existence there, as well as other
relics of that powerful people. In a field below Vienne is a
Roman obelisk seventy-six feet high, and supposed to be a se
pulchral monument ; it is without an inscription. This place
is also connected with early ecclesiastical history. It was " the
cradle of Christianity in the West. The epistle of its early
martyrs to their brethren in the East, is a very instructive and
perfectly authentic document."
Tradition says, that Pontius Pilate, after being removed
from his government, was banished by Caligula, a. d. 40, to
Vienne, where he ended his miserable life, as is asserted, by
suicide. Vienne was in existence before Lyons was founded.*
Its population is 17,000, and with a village on the other side
of the river, it makes a considerable figure. As the passenger
in the steamer sees it from the deck of the boat, rising, as it
does, upon a side hill, its appearance is imposing ; but it has the
same rough aspect which is generally seen in the smaller
French towns, in which the buildings are generally disposed in
almost total disregard of taste and of convenient arrangement.
Since we left Chalons, which is in about 47 degrees of
north latitude, we have been passing rapidly south, and are
now in 45°, having gained four degrees from Paris. The
effect, both on vegetation and on our comfort, is exceedingly
sensible, although we are still further north than the White
Mountains of New Hampshire, which are, no doubt, at this

Vienne. 201
time — the middle of April — covered with snow far down their
sides. Vegetation is here far advanced. The trees have put forth
their leaves, and not a few are in blossom. There are many
towns on the Rhone, between Lyons and Valence, but most of
them are inconsiderable, and I have not noted their names.
Tournon, oh the right bank, standing at the foot of a mountain,
still shows several ancient castles on the rocks ; and having
been possessed by the Counts de Tournon and the Dukes de
Soubile, it was much in favor with the French kings, especially
with Francis I. Below the bridge stands the College Royal,
still apparently in good repair, once a Jesuit college and more
recently a military school. The population of Tournon is
about 4000. The Rhone, just below Tournon, receives the Iser
on the east. The country along the river is, on both sides,
hilly, and in some places mountainous.
The feature which most interests the traveller is the univer
sal cultivation of the vine, almost to the exclusion of every
thing else. The hills are terraced, even where they are quite
steep, and the terraces are carried to the very top. There is a
particular region, called C6te Rotie (the roasted hills), where the
exposure to the sun is such in a semicircular bend as to give
great perfection to the grapes, and the wine is therefore much
valued. Still more prized is that of the so-called Hermitage,
a few miles below Tournon. It is said to have derived its
name from a real hermitage, once existing upon the mountain,
which is high and rugged, and very unpromising.
Only about 300 acres are regarded as particularly pro
ductive of those grapes which yield the Hermitage wine, so
celebrated throughout Europe and in America. Indeed, only
an exceedingly small portion of the 300 acres produces the very
best wine. The grapes are raised at a place where the lime
stone crosses or intersects the gneiss rock, of which the moun
tain is composed.
All along the banks of the Rhone we have seen immense
quantities of rolled and roundedjebbles, the produce of the

202 A Sabbath in Valence.
high valleys by the action of the mountain torrents, and ofthe
Alpine glaciers. As regards the movement, and the wearing
by attrition, the work has been finished by the waters of the
Rhone, which often flows violently at a much higher elevation
than the present surface of the river.
We have been somewhat surprised to-day to see, on our
right, a mountain covered with snow, although apparently not
much higher than our Alleganies, but in a higher latitude.
Before us on our left, extending far to the east and north,
we have been delighted to observe as we came nearer to them,
the fuller development of those snow-clad Alps of Dauphiny,
which we first descried yesterday from the tower in Lyons.
These mountains had now become quite distinct, even to the
naked eye, and with a glass they appeared very grand, pre
senting snowy peaks and ridges and valleys, and extended bril
liant slopes of pure unspotted snow. It was a glorious vision,
and to have seen any, even the nearest of the snow-clad Alps,
had been almost worth a voyage across the Atlantic. Some
of our French passengers, and one old gentleman in particular,
took pains to point out to us interesting objects as we passed
along. We arrived at Valence before evening, and found a
carriage and guide in waiting to conduct us to our Hotel la
Porte, and there we found our apartments ready for us, having
been pre-engaged by letter by our provident courier.
A' Sabbath in Valence. April 20th. — In the morning we
fingered for a short time in the cathedral, where we saw, in
more than common splendor (it being the first Sunday after
Lent), the imposing ceremonials of Catholic worship. The
bishop presided x the priests and all the attendants were gor
geously arrayed, and many ceremonies were performed which
were entirely unintelligible" to me. The cathedral was full of
people, both worshippers and observers, and there was great
activity of movement in the attendants, several of whom were
boys. After a short time we withdrew and went to the Protestant
chapel, where we remained more than three hours with much

A Sabbath in Valence. 203
satisfaction. The communion was administered. " I am the
resurrection and the life," was the text of a fervent discourse,
followed by addresses by the Rev. pastor, M. Romaine ; the
communicants came up to the table, two by two, and received
the elements at his hands.* Not knowing exactly the rules
of the place and occasion, we followed the example of some
English people from our hotel, travellers, like ourselves, who
approached the table, to which we also went, and received the
elements from the hands of the pastor. The people generally
went up two and two ; we went up three in number, and a
brief address was made by the pastor as he presented the bread
and the wine ; it was not a form of words, the expressions
were varied, and the manner was at once solemn and affection
ate. To us it was a very interesting scene ; we were, for the
time, identified with the representatives and descendants of the
Huguenots, who, after centuries of persecution, still preserve
the individuality of their religious existence.
Although the people of this congregation (the men and
women being on opposite sides of the church) were humble in
their appearance, the scene was very interesting ; their demean
or was serious and devout, and the decent plainness of the
church and of the dress of the worshippers, made it the more
gratifying. Towards evening the reverend pastor, Romaine, called upon
us at our hotel, and we had a very interesting interview with
a refined Christian gentleman of middle life, who appeared
gratified to meet persons from a distant continent, who cher
ished sympathies for his little flock and their spiritual guide.
Valence contains 10,000 inhabitants; it is an ancient town,
entered by arched gates, and still retains its walls, towers, and
battlements. Pope Pius VI., returning from his exile in France, died
here in 1799. The church contains a bust of him by Canova.
Napoleon, when a poor sub-lieutenant of artillery, lived in this
* He had previously read the account of the institution of the
supper, " do this in remembrance of me."

204 Pont St. Esprit.
town in a house that is well known, and in the Champs de
Mars here he made some of his first essays in the art of war.
In the public square we saw a colossal bronze statue of Cham-
pollionet, one of Napoleon's generals, who was a native of
Valence. There is here a school of artillery, and the town is at pre
sent alive with military men.
We had a comfortable hotel, with clean beds and excellent
attendance. One of the attractions of the place was an im
mense white dog, higher than the table, and as gentle as he
was large. The breed was new to us, being larger than our so
called Newfoundland, or the celebrated St. Bernard.
Valence to Avignon. — This voyage was accomplished in
less than six hours, the distance being from seventy to seventy-
five miles. As we proceeded down the Rhone, it expanded
into a broad river, whose current appears to be four to five
miles an hour.
The borders of the river were hilly and sometimes moun
tainous ; occasionally the rocks were distinctly stratified. The
mountains were almost universally terraced up their rocky
sides quite to the top ; they were now in the form of cones, now
of projecting cliffs with deep gorges between them. Upon many
of them we saw the ruined castles of a gone-by age ; there is
little in their history that is distinctly known, and still less that
is worth recording.
The Pont St. Esprit is near a town of the same name,
having 4500 inhabitants. This bridge is indeed a noble struc
ture, and makes a grand appearance; it is 2717 English feet
long, or more than half a mile, and is said to be the longest
stone bridge in the world ; it is somewhat angular, projecting
up stream, and its arches, or rather the pillars on which they
rest, are pierced with holes, to let the water through in times
of flood — an excellent contrivance. It was begun in 1310,
by an association in the town, and finished in forty-five years.
It was built entirely by contributions of people on both sides of
the river. We thought this bridge one of the most remarka-

Avignon. 205
ble productions of hydraulic engineering which we had seen,
especially when we remember that it was finished 500 years
ago. The rapidity of the current of the Rhone formerly made
the passage under the arches a subject of anxiety, but our
boat passed without fear, the helmsman giving the vessel a
quick and sharp turn, the moment she had cleared the arch.

This place acquired great celebrity in the 14th century,
from having been the residence of the popes. The papal pa
lace was begun in 1319, and for the greater part of that cen
tury (from 1305 to 1377, 72 years) it was occupied by the'
popes.* The palace of the popes, now degraded into a barrack
and a prison, is magnificent from its vastness, and very
impressive in spite of its present degradation and mutila
tion. Its walls are 100 feet high, and some of its towers 150
feet. We entered the chapel o*" the old palace ; it is not large,
but is beautifully embellished, and is still in good order. There
are in it sepulchres and monuments for several of the popes.
The rest of the palace, although it is very large, is entirely
altered, and is occupied by soldiers and prisoners. The place
of the Inquisition was inaccessible to us. We saw that high
tower in the palace down which the victims were thrown, dur
ing the French Revolution. Sixty persons, of both sexes, pro
bably for no crime whatever, were precipitated through this
lofty tower, and their mutilated forms were covered with quick
lime. Contiguous to the palace, upon a high rocky cliff, rising
far above the river, there is a flat area, or parade ground, which
* The first pope of Avignon was a Frenchman, which appears to
have induced the removal to France. The Catholic historians call
this the Babylonish captivity of the popes.

206 Avignon.
is guarded by a stone wall. From this platform, and over the
Rhone, there is a splended view of the surrounding country.
On the opposite shore are the remains of a fortress, erected
by the French kings, in opposition to the power of the popes,
when this province (Provence) belonged to them. The town
connected with the fortress was called Villeneuve. A bridge,
lone since broken down, once united the two towns ; several
of its stone arches still remain, and it now forms a beautiful
ruin. We walked with some pain and inconvenience on the
small round stones, for there are no side-walks, or only those
that are very inconvenient, through the crooked streets of Avig
non, which are very narrow. We entered several churches
where the Catholic ceremonies were being performed. We
saw also the ruins of other churches, destroyed during the
Revolution. In the time of the popes there were thirty
churches, numerous convents, and 80,000 people ; the num
ber is now between thirty and forty thousand.
The fury of the revolutionists assailed the College of the
Jesuits, which is mutilated, although still standing. There is
also in Avignon a large college, now in operation, for the
education of priests for the Romish church.
But the most interesting thing which we saw in Avignon,
was a museum containing many pictures and medals ; the
latter collection is said to be the most extensive in France. The
collection of the pictures by Horace Vernet, was admirable ;
he was born here, and there is a statue of him in the museum.
He used to go out in the most violent tempests, for the pur
pose of seeing nature in her most stormy moods ; in storms
at sea he would suffer himself to be tied to the mast, and cer
tainly the waves in his pictures look as if they are really in
motion. The principal glory of the museum, however, is a
very large collection of Roman antiquities, found in this vicinity.
It is almost incredible, and would be quite so, were they not
actually presented to our view, that so many and so various
objects, illustrative of the manners of that extraordinary peo-

Avignon to Nismes and Arles. 207
pie, should have been found so far from the principal seat of
their dominion. There are many glass vases, that have been
taken out of Roman tombs, and several of them contain the
ashes of the dead ; they are irised by partial decomposition,
due to long interment, and possibly the exhalations of the grave,
like those found at Athens. There are rings of gold, mir
rors of metal in female caskets, sepulchral urns, a head of
Jupiter in agate, and the last seal used by the Inquisition.
There are penates in many forms ; there are swords and other
weapons; eagles, which were borne at the head of the Romish
legions ; sacrificial knives ; sepulchral lamps, some of them of
fine material, and all of beautiful model ; coins, chiefly cop
per, in great abundance and variety ; sepulchral monuments
and sarcophagi, and mythological statues. There is one room
devoted to the monuments of the early Christians.
Avignon was entirely inclosed by a wall, which is even
now nearly complete. It was an elegant structure of stone,
finished with a handsome cornice, like the frieze of a building,
and as far as we saw the wall, a deep ditch still runs all around.
This interesting city is in the midst of a beautiful country,
and is a capital object for the traveller in this part of France.
It was with no small regret that we relinquished the cherished
design of visiting the fountain of Vaucluse, which, however in
teresting from its sentimental associations, is still more so as
regards its important geological bearing upon the hydraulic
machinery of the earth.

Railroads are excellent in France, and as the police es
tablished for their management is very strict, safety and com
fort are insured to the passengers.
We took the second-class cars to-day, and found our
selves very well provided for at a quarter less charge for seats.

208 Roman Amphitheatre.
These cars are cushioned, have stuffed backs, and are sufficiently
good. At Tarascon and Beaucaire we passed from one train to
another by an omnibus, as a new road is now in progress and
the two parts are not yet connected. These towns had in early
centuries great importance. A wire bridge of 1446 feet long,
with four towers, connects them. Tarascon has 11,000, and
Beaucaire about 10,000 inhabitants: the latter has a large
castle, apparently not much injured by time ; it stands upon
a rock on the brink of the river. On a high contiguous hill
stands the Chapel of the Holy Cross, to which we saw great
numbers of pilgrims resorting — climbing the hill in squads,
doubtless to avail themselves of the great healing virtues attri
buted to this chapel.
Roman Amphitheatre. — Having left Avignon at 7 a. m.,
we reached Nismes soon after nine, and had five hours at our
disposal to see the place and its interesting antiquities.
Nismes and the vicinal city of Aries were, for a long time,
seats of Roman power. The vast amphitheatres existing in
these places prove their ancient importance. That at Nismes,
having been disencumbered of all surrounding buildings, now
stands out in bold relief at the bottom of the principal street,
and is indeed a most impressive object. There is no occa
sion to visit Rome to see the Coliseum, for the amphitheatre
of Nismes is so nearly perfect, that it at once conveys to the
observer exact conceptions of this kind of structure. It con
sists of two stories, each of 60 arcades, 70 feet high, the tower
arches serving as so many doors. There were originally 32
rows of seats, and it is estimated that it would contain twenty-
two to twenty-five thousand people. Corridors, both above
and below, ran around the whole of the building ; we made
the entire circuit, and diverged into the subterranean vaults
and sub-structures which are carried out far and wide. In these
were confined the wild animals, that they might be brought
into the arena when required, and directly opposite is the room
where the men slain in combat were deposited until their burial.

Roman Amphitheatre. 209
The vaults of the lower corridor or portico are like some
vast natural cavern ; the upper one is roofed with huge stone
beams, 18 feet long, reaching from side to side, many of them
cracked and some of them fallen. One is astonished at the
magnitude of the stones of which the structure is composed.
It is built of limestone in immense blocks, laid in courses
with perfect regularity and without mortar. Mortise holes in the
centre of the upper surface of each block show that the Romans
employed the same means still in use, to raise and handle
large masses of stone. The accuracy of the masonry seems the
more remarkable if we consider the elliptical form ofthe structure,
making all the vertical joints converge to the foci of the ellipse.
In one place we saw a line of light through a joint of this sort
where the wall was at least four feet thick. The passages, of
course, all expand outwards also, and thus admit of a speedy
evacuation of the amphitheatre through its sixty vomitoriae.
The dimensions of this ellipse are 437 by 322 feet. By
walking deliberately around the structure, these dimensions are
more readily realized than by a numerical statement — the cir
cuit is a quarter of a mile.
The cornice was decorated with carving and finished with
a frieze ; except in the portion corresponding to nine or ten
arches, the capping and cornice are complete around the entire
circuit. In the part where the cornice is deficient, the Saracens,
more than 1100 years ago, erected two towers, which were de
stroyed by Charles Martel, and fire applied by him disfigured
the amphitheatre. As it was all of stone he could not destroy
it, but the wood placed in its arches and corridors burned as in
a furnace. He wished to destroy the building, which had often
been used as a fortress in the numerous wars that followed the
downfall of the Roman Empire. He succeeded only in blacken
ing it with smoke which remains to this day. The heat, however,
caused some portions ofthe limestone to flake off; but very lit
tle progress was made towards the destruction of the amphithea
tre. The building is national property, and the French govern
ment has restored many of the arches, laid anew the pavements,

210 Nismes.
and has taken precautions to guard against further dilapida
tion. The exterior of the building is, indeed, somewhat cor
roded by time, but had war and violence been restrained, this
noble monument of antiquity would have remained, an archi-
tectual wonder to all future ages. Many of the rows of marble
seats remain entire, and enable the observer perfectly to under
stand the whole arrangement. The Emperor and his house
hold entered by a lower and special corridor, and the vestal
virgins by a corresponding opening on the opposite side. The
senators and patricians entered higher up, while the plebeians,
entering still higher, occupied the more elevated positions, and
the slaves the uppermost of all. The police also had their ap
pointed place.
Projecting outward from the cornice at regular intervals
were stones, pierced with holes six inches or more in diameter,
through which passed poles to sustain the awning, the lower
ends of the poles being sustained by corbel stones projecting
from the wall below. The amphitheatre had no other covering
but the awning, and this, on occasions of the use of the building
for public games, was stretched upon ropes crossing from side
to side of the arena. This covering secured the spectators from
sun and rain, while it permitted free ventilation.
The gladiators entered on one side of the arena and the wild
beasts on the other, and probably the same rule prevailed when
gladiator was to contend with gladiator. Here man fought
his fellow man, or with the fierce wild beast, to pamper the
cruel appetite for blood. Strange feelings of awe and grandeur
are excited by seeing the vast space so often filled with human
beings, and one's mind runs wild with excitement when he sees
in imagination, the lion's eye glancing at the grating until he
was enlarged to spring upon his victim.
The weeds and grass now grow among the seats, and green
sward covers the once ensanguined arena. The little lizards
leap from stone to stone, and their brief generations are now
the sole tenants of these ancient piles.

Roman Temple. 21-1
Roman Temple. — A very interesting building, the Maison
Carre, is believed to- have been a Roman temple erected by
Adrian. It is of Corinthian architecture, and is supposed to
have been consecrated either in the reign of Augustus or of
Antoninus Pius. It stands conspicuously in the midst of the
beautiful city of Nismes. In the progress of many centuries,
it has been used as a Christian church, and also for many
ordinary purposes, some of them of the lowest character. The
fine Corinthian columns of this building, 30 in number, have
been much corroded by time, and two that were contiguous
were mutilated in the flutings to make more room for the pas
sage of a farmer's cart when the temple was used as a barn or
stable ; and, to afford more accommodations, walls were built up
between the columns of the portico.
In the eleventh century it was used as town-house, or Hotel
de Ville. When attached to the Augustine convent it was em
ployed as a sepulchre, and in the days of terror the revolu
tionary tribunal held its meetings here. The building is at
present occupied as a museum.
It contains many interesting objects, especially Roman an
tiquities : the pictures are not remarkable. There is in it a
beautiful Mosaic pavement taken up entire from a Roman
house. This temple is supposed to have been only the centre
of a much larger building, extending with wings and long
colonnades to the right and left, whose foundations have been
discovered. Two of the original Roman gateways of Nismes are still
standing, and are very conspicuous objects. That of Augustus
was founded b. c. 16. It is now in the midst of the town, and
consists of a double arch, with two side-doors for foot passengers,
and is flanked by two towers.

212 Fountain of the Nymphs.

Jtomtero uf t\t 1 P#.
From this noble fountain flows a stream, so copious as to
fill a large canal handsomely walled with stone. Here we
found a large number of women — according to continental
custom, washing clothes in the open air along this flowing
water. They are on their knees or their feet, as the case may
require, washing, rinsing, wringing and spreading, and their own
apparel is so disposed of as to avoid wetting. There is in such
cases no appearance of being disturbed by the presence and ob
servation of strangers ; it is the custom of their country, and in
some respects, more convenient than ours, as they have the
greatest abundance of water without trouble.
We were- much amused to see among the washerwomen
at the canal, a man who had high tin boots, in which he stood
to keep his feet dry, while he pounded out his dirty clothes to
make them clean.
Through splendid avenues of grand trees we walked onward
to the Fountain of the Nymphs, which is situated in the midst
of a beautiful garden or park, and adorned with statues and
vases. This fountain made us compensation for the loss of that
of Vaucluse. It appears at the foot of a wooded hill, and the
fountain rising in a living stream from the earth, occupies a
large area apparently 150 feet by 100 ; perennial springs give
it a depth of fifty feet. The water is pellucid and without sedi
ment or any disagreeable association, so that it well deserves
its classical name. If the nymphs did not bathe there, the
Roman women found it a delightful spot for their ablutions.
There are subterranean rooms or galleries for their accommo
dation, to which we descended. The walls and those of the
canal are, in part, ancient Roman masonry. The whole was
repaired under Louis XV. The surrounding park adds very
much to the attractions of the place ; the trees are the largest

Fountain of the Nymphs. 213
and finest that we have seen in France, except those at St.
Cloud. This grove is a part of a Boulevard which encircles
Nismes; it has taken the place of the ancient fortifications,
and gives a very attractive appearance to the city.
The supposed Nymphmum or Temple of Diana is an in
teresting ruin. It is in the side of the wooded hill, above and
to the left of the fountain. It was originally semicircular, but
the roof has fallen in, and the building was ruined in 1572. It
is now cleared of its ruins, and we walked into it without im
pediment. Although defaced, the building is still picturesque.
Near it is the termination of the Pont du Garde, a famous
aqueduct built by the Romans, of three tiers of arches ; of the
lowest there are six broad ones ; the second, whose span is nar
rower, has eleven arches ; and the highgst, much smaller, has
thirty-five. It is 180 feet high, and brought the water of certain
springs 25 miles, to Nismes and other places. By means of it
the arena of the amphitheatre could be flooded for the Nauma-
chise. Under the direction of our guide we now wound up a
path, overgrown with shrubs and trees — some unknown and
some familiar. We came next to a door in the stone wall, and
now we had reached the top of the temple, and through a crevice
in the roof, and from a deep chasm behind the middle arch, we
fancied we were let into some of the mysteries of the oracle, and
could understand how the priests of the Roman time could ut
ter responses from behind these arches. There is, too, a subter
ranean passage all around the temple, and leading in the direc
tion of the baths. Fifteen months since, excavations were made
on the hill, and a large mosaic pavement, in perfect preserva
tion, was discovered 15 or 20 feet below the surface.
While we were walking in the garden, the guide called to
his little daughter to make up a bouquet for the ladies, and
she soon came back with her hands filled with roses, corenel-
las and lilacs, quite nicely arranged. All the French seem to
love flowers, and for the last two or three days large bouquets
have been presented to us by the landlady who attends to the
rooms.

214 Arles and its Amphitheatre.
Nismes is a thriving town of 40,000 inhabitants, of whom
12,000 are Protestants. It has more outward signs of pros
perity than any town we have yet seen in France. The
streets are wide and well shaded by large trees ; many of the
houses are constructed with taste, recede from the street, and
being built of a light-colored sandstone, they have a fresh and
agreeable appearance.
Progress of the Season. — Although we are in the forty-
fourth degree of north latitude, fully as far to the north as Dart
mouth College, in New Hampshire, the vegetation is as much ad
vanced as that of Philadelphia or perhaps Baltimore. Since we
left Avignon, we have for the first time seen olive and almond-
trees. *
The olive-trees extend over large tracts of country, growing
here, in general, not higher than a man's head, with a blue
green color and a pointed leaf. They appear not only in the
plains but among the rocks, and wherever a tree can be made
to grow ; and the same is true of the almond.
The south of France is a well known region of the olive, and
Marseilles is a principal port for the exportation of its oil. The
mulberry is also cultivated to a considerable extent in this region.
The olive is not a handsome tree : its dull blue-green leaf,
and squatty maple or apple-tree shape, seem to cover the
earth as though it was obliged to exist, and could not throw
forth its arms in exuberance of life like the more joyous green
and fairy floating spray of the almond.

Aries is only a very short ride from Nismes. Under the
Roman empire, it was one of the most important cities of Gaul.
It has now about 20,000 inhabitants. It lies on the left bank
of the Rhone, twenty-eight miles from the sea. Its vast amphi
theatre attests the great population and importance of the

Arles and its Amphitheatre. 215
place in the age of Roman glory. It appears extraordinary
that two such amphitheatres should be erected so near to each
other. That of Aries is 459 feet long by 338 feet broad, exceeding
that of Nismes by twenty-two feet in length and six feet in
breadth. This amphitheatre, like that of Nismes, is in the
midst of the city, and is a very striking object, although it is
much more dilapidated than its neighbors. The cornice is
entirely gone, quite down to the upper row of arches ; but it
has three Saracenic towers (or, as some suppose, they may have
been erected by Charles Martell), still standing upon the wall,
and there were originally four. We ascended to the summit of
one of them, forty or fifty feet above the top of the wall, and
enjoyed an extensive prospect. These towers may be 1000 or
1100 years old ; and their great age is indicated by the worn
condition of the stairs, which wind spirally around, in the
interior. This amphitheatre has fine corridors ; it had forty-
three rows of seats, and was capable of holding 25,000 people.
It consists of two stories of sixty arches, the lower Doric, the
upper Corinthian. The blocks of which it is composed are of
enormous thickness; and, as the ground was uneven, there
were great structures beneath to bring the work to a level.
The walls are of astonishing thickness ; and there are many
more, and far more extensive vaults than in the other amphi
theatre. Its interior is much more despoiled than that of Nismes.
Most of the marble seats have been carried away ; but the mar
ble slabs, which are perpendicular facings of large dimensions,
are in a more perfect condition. They were very accurately
fitted to each other.
This amphitheatre, supposed to be of the age of Titus, like
that at Nismes, has been used as a fortress in various wars ;
but, notwithstanding its dilapidation, it is still a very magnifi
cent ruin. The masonry is very perfect, and put together with
out cement. This building was, until within a few years,
choked up io the height of twelve feet by rubbish, and its

216 Arles and its Amphitheatre.
arched passages and vaults were inhabited by 2000 people- of
low condition ; but both the rubbish and the people have been
removed, and thus the foundations were disclosed.
Near the amphitheatre are the ruins of the Roman Thea
tre, once a grand and beautiful structure, but destroyed, as it
is said, by the zeal of the early Christian bishops. Two columns
are standing in place with their capitals. One column is com
posed of a beautiful brecciated marble, and the stump of the
alternate column is of the same ; they formed a part of the pro
scenium. Rich friezes, and entablatures, and broken columns,
strew the ground. The seats were cut in the solid rock, and
remain very perfect.
Aries has none of the appearance of thrift and prosperity
noticed at Nismes. Many dirty, forlorn-looking children were
playing upon the ruins of the theatre, and the population
appeared miserable. Still, the women showed some ambition
in their head-dress, which was composed of a velvet, plain or
figured, wound twice around the head at the height of the
forehead ; and above this, a rich piece of lace stands like a
miniature capote.
A crowd of dirty boot boys zealously contended for our
custom ; and we were forced in self-defence to give one foot to
each couple, while we waited at the hotel door for our valet de
place. Two granite columns built into the walls of the Hotel du
Nord are the supposed remains of a forum.
Several objects of interest from this theatre are in the mu
seum. Statues found here are both in the museum and in
the Louvre at Paris — one is called the Venus of Aries. There
are niches in the dividing wall ofthe theatre where statues once
stood. There are openings for doors, through which the actors
entered and retired, and walls in the substructures, which once
supported the orchestra and the stage, are still yisible.
In the Palais Royal, and near the Hotel de Ville, there
stands a granite obelisk, which we saw. It came from a quarry
near Frejus, and was found in the bed of the Rhone, and placed

To Marseilles. 217
in its present position in 1676. It is supported on four lions,
and crowded by a gilt radiant sun with a human face. Its
height is forty-seven feet.
In the museum there are many remains of the architecture
and ornaments of the theatre ; and also a lead pipe, forty feet
long, which was found in the bed of the Rhone, stamped Vith
the name of the Roman plumber.
Aries, once abounding in water, brought by the Romans
from a great distance, is now so ill supplied that the health of
the people suffers, as well from bad water as from the marshes
and pools in the vicinity.

%b SfarstttlM.
We passed in one day from the ruins of Avignon to those
of Nismes and Aries, at extreme distances of from thirty to* forty
miles, and night found us at Aries.
We waited for an evening train to take us to Marseilles ;
and as we passed this distance in the night, between eight and
eleven o'clock, I can say nothing of the flat and marshy coun
try, now in a great measure redeemed for cultivation. By the
care of our courier, we found our apartments ready for our re
ception. Our circumstances here were not favorable to obser
vation. Marseilles is the third city in France, with a population of
190 000. It has an excellent harbor, a large and land-locked
bay looking to the south and west. A natural oblong basin,
communicating with the harbor, extends into the heart of the
city. It is 1000 yards long by 330 broad, with an area of
70 acres. In it the ships are seen among the houses. A
new harbor is being constructed with heavy hewn stone, skilfully
wrought, and laid up with massy firmness. Marseilles is a
very ancient city. It is said that the Phceceans founded it 3000
years ago. It has an important commercial connection with
Vol. i.— 10

218 Marseilles.
the United States ; and we have here an active and intelligent
consul, Mr. Hodge, to whose kindness we have been much in
debted. With some toil we climbed to the top of a very steep,
high and stony hill, where there is an ancient castle, and the
Church of Notre Dame de la Garde. The chapel is filled with
votive offerings of many seamen and others, presented by those
who have been saved by the Virgin. One of the ladies of our
party entered the chapel, and found it filled with pictures,
which were mere daubs, representing every species of exposure
to death ; and on the wall were hanging numerous crutches of
those who have been restored ; and ropes-ends which have saved
some from drowning, preserved with religious veneration.
We observed a very large bell in the bell-tower, placed
here by Madame Reget. It is covered with beautiful bas-reliefs.
This chapel would hardly repay one for climbing this very
stony promontory ; but compensation is made by the grand
view" which is seen from the summit. The prospect is very ex
tensive : the magnificent harbor, with its rocky islands, was in full
view, and the city, with numerous ships, was at our feet. An im
mense number of hills and mountains of limestone nearly white,
filled the land prospect all around, rising like sharp-crested
billows, and gave a repulsive appearance of dreariness and
sterility ; but the country between the hills and the city was
dotted here and there with green plantations of vineyards and
olive gardens, and covered all over with white cottages, called
bastides, which are the country places of the citizens. It is
said that there are five to six thousand of them. The blue wa
ters of the Mediterranean form a soft outline to the dazzling
brightness of the limestone hills. The forbidding appearance
of the country around Marseilles presents a strong contrast with
the beauty and fertility of many regions in France through
which we have travelled. This absence of fertility here, in con
nection with the noble harbor, indicates that commerce must
be, as it is, the great -dependence of this city. Indeed it would
never have existed but for its harbor, which first drew the Gre-

Marseilles. 219
ciaiuj to it, and has attracted commerce ever since. The depth
of the water is from eighteen to twenty-four feet at the mouth
ofthe harbor, which is capable of holding 1000 to 1200 mer
chant vessels. The annual arrival and departure of vessels
amounts to 18,000, with a tonnage exceeding 2,000,000. The
trade with Algiers centres here, and is a great source of pros
perity. We found time to drive around the city, and down
to the new harbor. It is separated from the great natural
basin by a stupendous wall of hewn stone — a breakwater
of nearly three quarters of a mile long, and at about the
same distance from the ¦ shore. It is so divided by moles as
to form two inner harbors and an outer one, and both are
connected with the present inner harbor by an interior canal,
running within the two strong forts which defend its entrance.
The old town, from the extreme narrowness of the streets, is
hardly accessible to carriages.
Marseilles is regarded by its inhabitants as a healthy city.
It is nothing against this opinion that, 130 years ago, it was
desolated by the plague, when half its inhabitants, forty or fifty
thousand, were carried to the grave. I have remembered from
my childhood, those beautiful lines in Pope's Essay on Man, in
which he alludes to the benevolent efforts of the good Bishop
Belzunge, who, during the plague, devoted himself to the dy
ing and the dead :
Why drew Marseilles' good bishop purer breath,
"When nature sickened, and each gale was death ?
In 1839, it was desolated by the cholera, which took off
its victims at the rate of 1000 to 1500 in a day. The city,
being environed by naked limestone hills and mountains, is
very hot in the summer, and infested by mosquitos.
The lazaretto of Marseilles covers fifty acres, and contained
the whole French army on its return from Egypt, in which
country, however, and the vicinal regions, most of the soldiers
who left France in that expedition found their last home, being

220 Our Courier.
thinned out frightfully by the casualties of war, and by disease,
and by many modes of privation and suffering. It is said, that
if, at the present day, a case of plague appears in any vessel
at Marseilles, the vessel is sunk, and the goods are burned.
A large manufactory of soap is carried on here which em
ploys 700 men ; and as only vegetable oil is used, the manu
facture is not offensive.
On the whole, Marseilles does not impress us as a city in
which we should care to linger longer than business or a
hasty survey might require.
Our Courier. April 25th. — Much difference of opinion
meets the traveller who asks if he shall employ a courier. Our
French friends in Paris were earnest in their efforts to persuade us
to do without one, but our experience has convinced us that a
good courier is a most important member of a large travelling
party, on the Continent. One must speak fluently, not only
French but also Italian, and be able to chaffer in it too, to
make it at all safe to travel in Italy without a courier. Others
have undoubtedly been annoyed by dishonest and offensive per
sons in this capacity, but it has been our good fortune to secure
the services of a courier of great integrity and fidelity. In Ame
rica we have no parallel to some of the incidents of European
travel. Unity of language and absence of passports in "the
United States, reduce travelling to entire simplicity.
Justice demands of me a word in commemoration of our good
courier, Francois Ribery, who has served us so well. A Parisian
by birth, he has from his youth been employed as a courier,
either in a public or private capacity. For several years he
was valet to Marshal Ney, and, by his influence, was adopted
by Napoleon as one of the couriers of the grand army, and
remained with him to the disastrous close of the ill-fated
Russian expedition. He retains a decided military manner,
and habits of the most rigid punctuality. He expects all the
luggage to be ready a full hour, and ourselves half an hour,
before the time of departure. He pays all our bills, and makes
all contracts for transportation, and looks with the most me-

Our Courier. 221
thodical care after all our luggage. He is sensitive at being
interfered with in his department ; all he wishes to know is,
our plans as to time, place, and mode of conveyance, and he
considers all the details of execution as within his own pro
vince. Italian he speaks even in preference to his native
tongue, and his use of English is very good. In German he
does not consider himself proficient, but we found no difficulty
when in Germany from this deficiency. He is known every
where by hotel keepers, and the numerous throng of commission-
naires and valets de place. His wages are 230 francs a month, he
paying his own living, which of course he receives from the hotel
keepers. He keeps all our accounts in a most orderly man
ner, renders vouchers for all his expenditures, and is decidedly
more watchful lest we should be imposed on or pay too much,
than we could possibly be for ourselves. He keeps a sharp
look-out that our dinners are well cooked and abundant, al
ways going himself to the kitchen to see that all is comme
il faut, and he is certain to have us all stirring at an early
hour in the morning, when we are sure to find breakfast
waiting. When questioned, he narrates some of the events of
his varied and active life, particularly in connection with Na
poleon, and in this way, and by the road, we have by degrees
obtained the history of his life. He does not, however, speak
of his adventures unless invited to do so, and makes but little
of his sufferings and exposures. He was at several of the
battles before and after the burning of Moscow, and saw the
French cavalry ride into Moscow, and the frozen riders drop
dead with cold and hunger from their horses. At Wilna, in
Poland, on the retreat, he received from the hand of the Em
peror Napoleon the confidential dispatches for the Empress
Marie Louise, to be delivered by his own hand at the Tuileries.
After the most exhausting fatigue, and when one horse after an
other had given out, and the courier had been repeatedly lifted
into his saddle, he accomplished his mission, and received as a
token of satisfaction from the hand of the Empress seventy
eolden Napoleons.

222 Marseilles to Nice.
He was at Jena, at Friedland, at Eylau, and at the crossing
of the Beresina, and at many other terrible battles.
Francois has been repeatedly the courier of the distinguish
ed English engineer, Mr. Stephenson, with whom he was in
Egypt last winter. He interested us with his account of Mrs.
Caroline Fry, with whom he travelled on more than one of her
benevolent tours of philanthropic effort ; and who makes honor
able mention of him in her memoirs.
By the kindness of Mr. Rives, our minister at Paris, we
had obtained one general passport for all our party, and this
saved us great annoyance, and no small expense, as one visee
and one fee answered for the whole.

$pxrstillts is pa ma (§msK. April 24th,
The road from Marseilles to Genoa, along the shore of the
Mediterranean, and at the foot of the maritime Alps, is celebrated
as one of the most varied and picturesque in the world. This is
particularly true of the portion from Nice to Genoa, known as
the Cornice or Riviera del Ponente. We had no hesitation in
desciding to enter Italy by this road, rather than by the more
frequented and expeditious route by steamer to Leghorn, or to
some other Italian port, nor did we afterwards. find occasion to
regret the choice.
We left Marseilles at noon by diligence, arranged as before
in the Coupee interieur, for a ride of 123 miles, to Nice.
Had I begun the account ei diligence travelling with the
experience of to-day, I should have been less liberal of com
mendation ; not that there was fault to be found with the car
riage, which was altogether comfortable, but they gave us only
half a team. We had now but three horses, placed abreast
(one stage only excepted, in which we had four), instead of
seven or eight, and consequently our progress was compara
tively slow. But we travelled over a magnificent road, smooth

Villages. 223
as a house floor, wide, and hard as marble ; otherwise three
horses could never have drawn the heavy diligence, with seven
teen passengers and a vast pile of luggage on the top.
Face of the Country. — We travelled forty or fifty miles
through a ceaseless succession of mountains of limestone, until
the shadows of night veiled them from our eyes. An ocean
of dreary mountains met our view as we advanced, blinding
the eyes with their glaring whiteness, treeless, and with hardly
a shrub or a tuft of green grass ; they were jagged, indented
and conical, and ran along in mighty ridges, while in a perspec
tive view, they appeared to enfilade and cross each other in
eveiy direction, with intersecting curves, so that we were
amazed that one of the best roads in the world should have
been constructed in a region where it seemed almost impossible
to construct a road at all. It is often cut into the mountain
side and built up by walls, from an abyss below ; but all pos
sibility of danger is prevented, by a guard wall running along
the side of the precipice. Like all the French civil engineer
ing and public works in stone, this road is so admirably con
structed, that the example is worthy of all praise. As we tra
velled on, towards evening, the mountains receded further and
further from each other, and the spaces, garnished with ver
dure, became both broader and more frequent, until fields and
farm-houses began to appear, and every mile to become more
and more numerous.
Villages. — We passed several villages, and some that
might be called towns. In general, the houses in the villages
were crowded upon one street, so narrow, that it was with
great difficulty that even a laden donkey could pass our car
riage. Nothing can be more comfortless than the appear
ance of these rude villages ; they are bounded by stone houses,
in general rough and unsightly, and without any space between
them and the street ; children, shops, goods, donkeys and their
carts, women with their knitting, the cobbler with his tools,
all are consequently under the windows, at the doors, or in the
rooms to which they lead; the whole family and then- com-

224 Lord Brougham's Villa.
fortless dens being exposed to view. Were it not that in the
larger houses there is often an interior court, and decent upper
rooms, we should think that there could be no comfort. No
thing, whether we regard beauty or accommodation, can be more
strongly in contrast with our clean, spacious, airy, and bright
villages in New England. Clouds and darkness, lightning and
rain, were united during the night, to form a striking contrast
with the beautiful night which attended us from Tonnere to
Dijon. We were constrained to descend from our diligence at nine
o'clock in the evening, to receive our dinner at the village of
Luc. The fare at the humble inn was ample, and was served
with attention to our comfort. The brief stop of the diligence
left no time for ceremony, and both our courier and the con-
ducteur sat down at the table with us — much in the style of
" American simplicity in gone-by years. We were soon again
on our way, without any incident, except stopping at some un
known village to change the horses, and I am assured that we
lost nothing by the darkness of the night. The French dili
gences are so comfortable and the roads so good, that it was
very practicable to obtain some repose during the night.
Entrance of the Maritime Alps. — We perceived by
the movement of the carriage, that the country was becoming
more hilly, and as the morning was disclosed, we found that
we were advancing on a winding road, passing among moun
tains and through deep gorges.
The white limestone hills had disappeared, and the spurs
of the maritime Alps had taken their place (apparently pri
mary rocks), while more distant and more elevated Alpine
peaks came momently jnto view.
Lord Brougham's Villa. — As we proceeded, the mountain
scenery became more softened, grassy meadows and cultivated
fields appeared, with accompanying farm houses, and then to
our surprise we descried elegant mansions, ample, tasteful, and
evidently fresh productions of skilful architectural design. They
were surrounded by cultivated grounds, and embellished by gar-

Napoleon's Column at Canne. 225
dens, inclosed by excellent fences of iron or stone. In short,
these establishments were so entirely at variance with every
thing which we had seen since we left Marseilles, that we were
at a loss to account for the sudden change, until we learned that
the beautiful villa we saw, was built by Lord Brougham, in one
of the most charming situations in the south of France, and
called by him Louise Eleonore ; and that Mr. Leader and other
English visitors have houses here also.
Vegetation of a Warm Climate. — Passing by these
establishments on the slopes of the mountains looking towards
the sea, we descended into a country having a climate adapted
to the orange and the lemon, the fig, the almond and the
olive, all of which were flourishing in the open air. The hard,
laborious looking olive, which, at Nismes, was a mere bush, is
here changed to a picturesque tree, much in form, size, and
color of its foliage, like our silver-leafed willow. The roadside
was bright with red poppies, pink gladiolus, blue flax, and
several kinds of yellow and blue flowers which we did not
know, and long hedge-rows of hawthorn or rose, seemed to
convert the whole land into a flower-garden.
The trees in the orange and lemon groves were large and
most beautiful, with their exuberance of golden and yellow
fruit, and fragrant blossoms ; while all around a rich and varied
vegetation, with many horticultural and other rural productions,
evinced a semi-tropical climate in a latitude corresponding to
the southern parts of New Hampshire and Vermont. This
appears the more extraordinary in a region lying at the foot of
cold mountains, which, in parts not remote, are covered with
eternal snow.
Entrance into Sardinia. — It was an auspicious take
leave of La Belle France; for almost before we were aware of
it our coach came to a full stand at the river Var, which forms
the boundary between France and Sardinia, the first kingdom
of Italy which we were about to enter.
Napoleon's Column at Canne. — We must not, however,
pass the boundary without recalling an interesting historical
Vol. l— 10*

226 Entrance into Italy.
association connected with this vicinity. At the village of
Canne, where we descried again the blue Mediterranean, we
were detained half an hour, to remove and cool an overheated
axle of our carriage.
Just after we were again in progress, we passed a marble
column, standing on the roadside. On this column we read—
" Souvenir, Mar. 5, 1815."
At the village of St. Raphael, in this vicinity (1£ mile east
of Canne), Napoleon landed from his exile in Elba. On the
memorable day, whose date is inscribed on the monument,
Napoleon appeared at the place where he had, the year before,
embarked for his exile. He had with him 800 men, his fol
lowers; i. e. 500 grenadier guards, 200 dragoons and 100
lancers, without horses. He bivouacked the first night in an
olive-garden at Grasse.
The events attending his perilous journey to Paris, and the
memorable hundred days that followed, are now enrolled in
history.

tfntraiu* into Itelj. April 25th.
On the French bank of the Var, our passports were
visaed by their custom-house officers, and we then passed
the long bridge, beneath which the river, swollen and turbu
lent from recent rains in the Alps, rolled down its muddy
flood. On the other side a Sardinian officer met us, and with
much civility, went through the formalities of passports and
baggage, examining only very slightly a single trunk of our
numerous packages ; or rather, he only opened the trunk and
shut it again. Four francs that had been slipped by Fran<jois
into his hand, made every thing smooth with this polite official.
A short time more placed us in the beautiful city of Nice ;
where we found very desirable apartments in the Hotel des
Etrangeres. It was not without emotion, that we entered Italy. Italy

Nice. 227
— so long admired — so long desired ; and it was not with in
difference that we looked back towards France, along the
sparkling waves of the Mediterranean.

ptt.
This city is situated immediately upon the sea-shore, and
contains about 30,000 inhabitants. The Italians call it Nizzia.
The small river Poglione washes Nice on one side ; it is at pre
sent, like the Var, swollen by Alpine rains, and rolls turbulently
along its bed, full of rolled and rounded pebbles, and of shingle,
smoothed by Alpine floods. The old town is filled with lofty
houses, crowded and dirty, like others that we have seen. In
our walks, we passed into several streets so very narrow, that
there can be no domestic retirement ; every thing is seen from
the doors and windows on the opposite side, at the distance of
three or four yards. These narrow lanes were swarming with
people, who wear a very picturesque costume. We were
amazed to see the manner in which the children are stowed
away among baggage and other articles in the panniers of the
donkeys, which are loaded to excess. The women, although
somewhat more feminine than in other places in this region,
are as coarse as the men. They invariably carry a distaff in
their hands, spinning as they walk.
We visited some of the shops to see the articles that are
here curiously wrought in wood ; inlaid tables, trays, boxes,
&c, are made of the varieties of wood grown in the country.
The new town is very beautiful. The houses are large, and
have ample space before them.
There are several Boulevards or Promenades, wide, and
shaded by fine trees ; and that part of the city whose boundary
is the sea-shore, is airy and picturesque ; the sea-breeze is not
obstructed by any intervening object, and the billows break
incessantly upon the shore. The water is turbid for some dis
tance from the land, owing to the mud brought down by the

228 Nice.
rivers, and the clear blue waves of the Mediterranean form a
strong contrast in a well defined line.
There is a fine row of houses along the river, on the west
side, and the new terraces and square, as well as the most beau
tiful houses, have, without doubt, resulted from the popularity
which the town has enjoyed, as an agreeable residence, and as
a place favorable to the restoration of health. Like Genoa, it
is a free port. It is liable to great heat and dust, and occa
sionally, chilly winds slide down from the cold snowy moun
tains. Its modern improved appearance has arisen from the
great resort of British residents.
The painful result of many English experiments, in Nice,
for the recovery of health, is but too evidently read in touching
records on their monuments in their two cemeteries. Their
reverence for the memory of the dead is accompanied by regard
for the living, as appears by the chapels of the English church,
which are to be found in most of the great cities on the Con
tinent. One has been opened here by special permission from
the Sardinian government,
The population of Nice is both Italian and French ; the
former prevail. At our table d'hOte, to-day, French was
spoken, but the waiter who attended upon our party speaks very
intelligible English. Indeed it is very common in Continental
hotels and in cities, to which the English and Americans re
sort, to find the English language well spoken.
Nice has been the scene of sanguinary warfare. In 1543,
it sustained successfully a protracted siege, which was waged
against it by the unnatural combination of the French with the
Turks ; a disgraceful assault upon the cross, sustained by the
crescent and cross united. The city was bravely defended by a
Savoyard gentleman named Montfort, who stood a general
assault, before retiring to the castle, in which the defence was
sustained, so as to afford time for relief, by the approach of an
army from Milan by land, and of a fleet, conducted by the
Genoese Admiral, Doria, when the siege was raised.
The defence was much aided by Catherine Seguana, the

Nice to Genoa. 229
wife of a poor citizen. When the Janissaries had already
planted the crescent upon the rampart of the outworks, and
the troops were flying, she, with a hatchet, cut down the
standard-bearer of the Moslem ensign of victory, rallied the
fugitives, and expelled the enemy. A statue was erected to
her memory, by her fellow-citizens, and it remains to this day
to the honor, of both. The inscription upon it is —
" Nicsena Amazon irruentibus Turcis, occurrit, exemptoque
vexillo, triumphum meruit," 1543.
The castle was blown up in 1706 ; the ruins have been
recently removed, and the site converted into a walk, and
planted with trees.
The environs of Nice are extremely beautiful and grand,
from the combination of mountain and marine scenery. A
perceptible change of climate is realized by ascending the hills
in the vicinity, on which many desirable residences are estab
lished.

pa. to <&wura.
At Nice, Franqois found a vetturine returning empty to
Genoa, and made an advantageous arrangement with the man
to take our whole party of eight persons for 300 francs, the
coachman paying his own expenses. The carriage was a large
landau, drawn by four horses, with a seat behind, and room
for two with the coachman. The beauty of the Reveira
road commences at Genoa, and we considered ourselves for
tunate in secttring an open carriage for the ' four days' ride
before us, as we could now deliberately survey the magnificent
scenery of which all the world has heard. At eight o'clock,
av m., we were on our way ; having, at parting, received a
cheerful " bon voyage " from the good hotel in which we had
been lodged: the master and servants being assembled at
the door, to witness our departure — and really their deport
ment was more like, that of friends taking leave, than that of

230 Ascent of the Alps.
mercenary people, who, having received our money, were wil
ling to see us depart.
Retrospect of NicE.-From our carriage we were still
more strongly impressed with the beauty and attractions of
Nice. Our way led, for several miles, up a road cut out of the
side of a mountain, to the north and east of the city ; it rose
gently, but by an angle, which required us to walk the horses ;
and as we were now elevated upon one side of the natural
amphitheatre, which embosoms Nice, and were every moment
rising higher and higher, we gained the most delightful views
of a grand panorama, of which Nice was the centre. The
Mediterranean was the southern boundary, with its interminable
blue waves rolling onward to Algiers, and the wide extended
African coast. Nice appeared a gem in the midst of a lovely
valley ; and innumerable country houses, in a style of tasteful
architecture, dotted, not only the widespread circular plain,
but rose through the olive groves upon the declivities of the
hills and mountains on every side. It was indeed a splendid
prospect, and it grew at every step still more impressive, as we
slowly mounted higher and higher ; while, on our right, the
mountain ridge, out of which our road was excavated, formed
a bold barrier at a great elevation.
Ascent and View of the Snowy Alps. — Thus, upward
we advanced, until the road began to turn towards the Mediterra
nean, when the Alpine peaks and ridges, covered with ice and
snow, " the glorious, sun-lit, snowy mountains," were seen to
emerge above the horizon, far more grand than when we first
descried them from Lyons and the Rhone. They were very
distinct ; vast domes and peaks, and long slopes, perfectly
white, and brilliant in the reflected sun-light, were spread be
fore us in immense masses, and seemed very near, while they
may have been fifty miles or more from us. Behind us, and
on our left, was the lovely valley we were leaving ; before us
were the eternal snows ; and as we turned more to the right,
the boundless Mediterrranean again broke upon our view, pre
senting a splendid combination of the grand and the beautiful.

Reveira Road. 231

%\t %tkxxK %mst sx %\t €sxmt
Who has not heard of this road, one of the wonders of the
world ? and who that has seen can adequately describe it ?
The Romans had a road along this mountain-bound shore. It
bore the imperial name of the Aurelian Way ; but it was a nar
row pass, often overhanging the sea, so narrow as hardly to ad
mit of the passage of a single horse. Now, by the energy of the
French government, which began and finished about three-
fifths of the enlarged road, followed by the persevering efforts
of the Sardinian government, a broad and excellent carriage
way has been completed in regions where, if we look to the
right or the left, below or above, it seems impossible, for much
ofthe way, to find a foothold. The maritime Alps rise to the
height of several thousand feet, and descend often in nearly
vertical precipices to the Mediterranean. In the sides of these
mountains, the road is excavated by blasting the solid rocks.
A mountain impends over your head, ragged, projecting, and
menacing, perhaps from a thousand or two feet above, while
down, perhaps another thousand feet, the Mediterranean in
solemn grandeur dashes its ever restless waves against the base
of the cliffs. Often a wall is built up from below, either solid or
sustained on arches, to support the road ; and you travel within
a few feet or yards of a tremendous precipice, beyond the edge
of which there is nothing between you and death. In general
there is a. parapet, but not always; and sometimes road mate
rials or rubbish form an imperfect barrier. There is, however,
no danger ; and the traveller proceeds with full confidence, and
is quite at ease to enjoy the magnificent scenery. I feel that it
is impossible to convey in language any adequate idea of this
conjunction of lofty and dreary mountains with the sea.
The mountains rise in terrific grandeur, dark, wild, barren,
ragged, and impending, in beetling cliffs, indented with yawn
ing chasms and deep gorges. You are suspended in mid-air,

232 Slide of the Mountain.
between heaven, and earth, and ocean, and are equally impress
ed with the sublimity of nature and the power and daring of
man. Settlements and cultivation would hardly be expected
among such scenes, and yet they are not entirely absent. The
little seaport town of Villa Franca is situated at the foot of the
mountains, and not far from Nice. The fortress of Esa stands
on a rock, a refuge from the Corsairs, and near it are many
remnants of the Aurelian Way. Turbia occurs further on,
and is a considerable ruin, connected with an inhabited village.
A trophy was erected here by Augustus to celebrate his victory
over the Ligurians, and here was then the boundary between
Italy and Gaul.
Here we were met by an officer of the prince of Monaco —
" the smallest monarchy in the world." He allowed us to pass
without any material delay. From our carriage we could see,
far below us, perched on a rocky promontory, the little capital of
this puny dominion. It is situated on a table rock by the
shore, and has a neat and orderly appearance. It is stated to
have the usual appendages of sovereignty, a palace adorned
with pictures, a throne-room, guard-room, antechamber, &c,
all neglected and in decay, as the prince resides at Paris. There
is a little harbor, where we saw a square-rigged vessel, and some
small craft at anchor.
Slide of the Mountain. — A geological occurrence of some
interest has left its record at a place called Rocca Bruna, where
the rock is pudding-stone or conglomerate. There has evident
ly been a great slide. Immense detached masses, some of
them as large as common dwelling houses, thirty to forty feet
in diameter, were lying on the declivity of the mountain, close
to the road ; and it is stated, that a castle and a small village
have also subsided without having their position disturbed, where
they still remain erect and uninjured. They are now standing
on a mass of conglomerate, and the place, a large void, where
it parted from the mountain above is obvious to the eye.
The general structure of the mountain, so far as we could

Poverty and Degradation. 233
observe, was stratified tertiary limestone. The strata are usually
very distinct, and lie in all positions of obliquity. Sometimes
they were vertical, and even folded under, being curved and
contorted, thus proving great disturbance.
At Mentone, a village of 4000 inhabitants, twenty-five miles
from Nice, we took our dejeuner a la fourchette. While our re
past was preparing, we ran down upon the sea-shore and wan
dered upon the smooth pebbly beach, always beautiful with the
lifelike beating of the restless sea. As we entered the town
the women were washing at the little streams flowing across the
road, sitting in baskets, or spreading out their clothes to dry,
laying stones upou the edges to keep them from being blown
away. Husbandry. — As we advanced, we were much impressed
by the skilful husbandry exhibited among these rude and barren
mountains. They were extensively terraced, the terraces be
ing supported by stone walls, at distances of two or three yards
apart. Wherever a spadeful of earth could be found it was
carefully preserved and cultivated ; and irrigation was most
faithfully performed. To that end, at frequent intervals, little
stone basins for water are established, into which the mountain
streams are conducted. We travelled, through the afternoon,
among groves of oranges and lemons, which perfumed the air.
The fruit was as abundant, and as freely used, as apples with
us. The trees are now blossoming, and, at the same time, full
of ripe fruit. The lemons are delicate ; the acid is mild, and
the rind is very agreeable and refreshing. These groves, ex
tending sometimes over several acres, are splendid objects to
the eye. Fig-trees are also very numerous ; and the olive-trees
are seen in vast orchards, overhanging the terraces. These
trees here grow to a large size, and form almost impervious
thickets. Poverty and Degradation. — Several little children to
day followed our carriage for miles begging, but more to pick
up the ordure dropped by the horses, which was collected by
them in baskets carried on their heads.

234 Ventimiglia.
At Mentone, were young women of decent appearance, who
bore upon their heads boxes of wet mortar, and an older woman,
of athletic figure, was working up the mortar with a pole. In this
country, burdens are very generally carried on the head, and
often by females. Beds, cradles, washtubs, buckets or copper
vessels full of water, and many other things, are borne along in
this manner ; and the bearers appear unconcerned, holding
their arms pendent or akimbo, and looking carelessly around ;
but we have never seen them drop any thing, or observed the
head to vibrate, or the foot to stumble.
We are much impressed by the great number of fine faces
among the Ligurians. They appear also cheerful and are
courteous in their manners.
We passed, this afternoon, the island called Marquerita, on
which was confined the man with the iron mask.
Ventimiglia came in our way. It is a considerable town,
and has very strong fortifications with walls and gates. The
main street is so winding and steep, that we left the carriage
and walked down through its narrow defiles, bounded by lofty
houses. It is the Albium Intermedium of Roman antiquity, and is
regarded as a ban-ier against French invasion. There is a large
and strong fortress, upon the mountain above the town. To a
common eye it would seem to be impregnable ; but Ventimig
lia has repeatedly changed masters, and in the middle ages,
the possession of it was much contested by the vicinal powers.
In our abrupt descent from this acropolis, we passed on our
right, a large convent, and extensive barracks occupied by Sar
dinian troops. From this mountain-town we passed over the
river Roja, upon a very long bridge, and for ten or twelve miles
travelled over a flat and fertile country, intermediate among the
mountains, upon which were a number of old castles. Leaving
the considerable village Bordighiera, we observed a new feature
in the vegetation of the country.
Palm-trees appeared and soon became very numerous :
many of them were lofty, 30 to 40 feet high, and very beauti-

St. Remo. 235
ful. The palm, anciently introduced from Palestine, has be
come naturalized here, and is in much request, for decorating
the Catholic Churches. The palms give the scenery an oriental
aspect. Many of them are swathed around, in order to im
prove the growth of the branches used in processions, which
gives them a singular appearance.
It is the date-palm which flourishes here, and excellent
dates were served to us at table.
The occurrence of the date-palm at this place, forms a singu
lar anomaly in the geographical distribution of plants, as it is
not foimd elsewhere in all Italy, and, with some slight excep
tions on the island of Sicily, not again north of the African
coast. The flora of this spot is equally tropical in other re
spects, a fact due, as has been suggested, to the peculiar con
formation of the coast where the peninsula of Italy meets the
mainland, forming an angle protected by the lofty maritime
Alps from the north wind, and receiving as in an eddy the
prevalent warm breezes from the African continent.
At evening, we arrived at St. Remo, a town of 11,000 in
habitants, 40 miles from Nice, where we spent the night. This
town is beautifully situated upon a bright sandy bay. It is a
very compact and gloomy town, being built extensively upon
arches of stone, crossing the very narrow streets and connecting
the houses, so that they may be entered, from one to another,
¦^nost without going into the streets, thus blending the whole
jto one fortress, capable of the most effectual defence. The
houses extend up the sides of the Apennines, generally upon
terraces, and have beautiful gardens.
Opposite to our hotel was an immense palace of a nobleman,
and from my lofty chamber window, I looked down, in the
morning, upon an extensive plantation of oranges ; an exuberant
wilderness, decked with this splendid fruit. It looked far below
me, like a green pavement set with orbs of gold. The tropical
vegetation of the maritime Alps is here, in its greatest perfec
tion, and, on leaving San Remo, we saw taller palms than we
had seen before.

236 Gigantic Geological Section.
Mountain Torrents. — A serious inconvenience sometimes
meets the traveller upon the Reveira road. Such torrents oc
casionally descend from the mountains, as to swell the rivulets
so that they become impassable.
Arriving, to-day, at one of these places, a crafty Ligurian,
after much gesticulation and vociferation with our coachman,
persuaded us to descend from our carriage, pretending that it
would be dangerous to pass the swollen ferry with such a load.
He offered to ferry us over in a boat, and we embarked in his small
craft; but on our approaching within about two rods of the oppo
site shore the boat grounded, and he carried us all ashore one, by
one, upon his back. This was merely a piece of finesse to obtain
two francs ; for our carriage passed without difficulty, and might
have taken us all over, as it did in a worse case yesterday.
April 27. — Our journey to-day was continued to Alassio, 35
miles. Upon the route there were many towns and villages, and
others looked down upon us from the mountains. Numerous sin
gle houses were seen here and there, in elevated picturesque situa
tions, and along the shore were many towers, erected in gone-
by centuries as places of security for persons and property,
from the plundering and bloody attacks of the Corsairs of Af
rica. As we drove through the narrow streets of several of these
small towns, we could, with a cane, and sometimes with the
hand, touch the walls on either side from the coach, which en
tirely filled the way.
The people seldom live on the first or ground floor ; it is
occupied for bakers' or grain shops, and for storage of wine-
casks. Nothing about the houses looks comfortable ; but, like
the French, they may have interior courts and upper apart
ments that are agreeable. They seem very fond of putting
flowers in their hats, and of growing them in jars upon tho
meanest window-sill.
To-day we made our noon halt and dejeuner a la fourchette
at Oneglia, noted as the birth-place of the renowned Genoese
Admiral, Andrea Doria.
Gigantic Geological Section. — Probably in few other

Gigantic Geological Section. 237
places can a more magnificent section of strata be found,
than is presented by this road along the maritime Alps.
Almost every where the section has been carried through
solid rocks — mountains several thousand feet in elevation,
whose rough and almost vertical precipices are laved by the
billows. In such situations a deep and wide section has been
made with gunpowder, and a wide surface of fresh rock ex
posed. There are many places where the long cylindrical holes
bored to blast the rocks may be seen, 50 to 100 and 150, and
even 200 feet above your head, and in some cases at still
greater elevations.
It was our opinion, so far as a transient view enabled us to
judge, that the mountains we had passed were in no case pri
mary, but consisted of strata of limestone and sandstone, and
dark slate, possibly limestone, possibly argillite, in different
varieties. The principal advantage to be derived from the inspection
of this immense section, is in studying the phenomena of strati
fication, and the nature and energy of the forces that have dis
turbed and altered the original position of the strata. The
aqueous origin of stratified rocks, as a general truth, is not
doubted, nor, with few and limited exceptions, their original
horizontal or nearly horizontal position. I am able to state
that the strata of the maritime Alps are in every position,
except the horizontal. There may be, in a few places, a decep
tive appearance of horizontality, derived frem the curve of a
wide bend.
The trend also, or direction of the strata, varies very much,
and the dip is sometimes reversed : if the strata have been dip
ping east, they may suddenly dip west, thus producing an an
ticlinal axis. At other times, like a trough, they are curved
upward at both extremities.
Often they are also mixed and jostled together, in strange
confusion ; all order is destroyed, and broken strata are blended
in confusion — as fragments of ice are piled up by a river flood,

238 A Sardinian Inn.
and then fixed in their position by congelation. Near Alassio,
this latter occurrence in the strata is very striking : for a long
distance, and for a great height and depth, the strata are all in
inconceivable confusion, distorted, curved at acute and obtuse
angles, lapped over each other in fragments, reversed in posi
tion, the superior being below and the inferior above, and the
great body of the mountain squeezed and broken, so as to pro
duce a mass of ruins ; — ruins not, however, separated, but re
maining in juxtaposition, although not in any regular connection.
Among the dark slates and limestones, there are also veins of
magnesian carbonate of lime of a brilliant white, crossing the
rocks — often in a perfect network, and occasionally parallel
with the strata. On the sea-shore at Mentone, we found dark
slaty fragments full of quartz veins.
The phenomena which I have mentioned, as regards the
position of the strata, afford unquestionable proof that these
mountains have been powerfully upheaved ; or, in part, up
heaved, and also, in part, depressed. The nature of the power
I have elsewhere discussed, and I shall not now enter upon any
theoretical speculations.
A Sardinian Inn. — We lodged in a house at Alassio, in
which pomp and meanness were strangely blended.
The street where our carriage stopped at the door of the
Hotel, was, by the measuring-tope, only ten feet wide. The
interior and great court was dirty and had a very offensive
odor, which pervaded the entire house. They said it was
owing to beans, with which they feed their horses ; but I dis
covered also another cause, not uncommon in continental
houses, arising from inattention to cleanliness and decency. In
a vast room above, almost as lofty and large as a church, a
company of Ligurians were dining, and were very vociferous
and noisy ; their appearance was coarse, but they had a free
bearing, corresponding with the comparative liberty of Sar
dinia. A large interior room, in which we dined, was lighted only
from contiguous rooms ; it was 18 Or 20 feet high, with vaulted

A Sardinian Inn. 239
aome, frescoed and gorgeously gilded, and the side walls also
were panelled in fresco ; but the floor was of cement without a
carpet, and the doors were, in part, panelled and gilded, and,
in part, they were in rough boards. Several pictures hung upon
the walls of the house — some of them not bad. The windows
and beds were curtained, and the chairs had green damask
cushions. The people were very civil and kind, and the beds
good, with iron bedsteads, but there was, in other respects, no
snugness and neatness about the house, and its atmosphere was
so bad that we found it hard to endure it even for a night.
The stairs in this hotel, as elsewhere, are of stone, and the
railing iron, safe but cheerless and inelegant enough. The bread
here, as generally in the south, has been black, coarse and ill-
made, and butter worse — in this house very bad — white, fatty
and rancid. In these countries of olive oil, they think but little
of butter. When we left the hotel, the family gave us the usual
" bon voyage " uttered with a very kind expression of voice.
We are happy to add that this is the worst Sardinian inn which
we saw. It had been once a palace, and no place is more
comfortless than a decayed and dilapidated palace.
As we drove out of the town, along the narrow and dirty
streets — the lofty houses almost shutting out the light of the sun
— the appearance was extremely comfortless ; and as we looked
from our carriage into the apartments, dark, gloomy and filthy,
it seemed to us that the people must be wretched, but they are
accommodated to their situation —
" See some strange comfort every state attend,
And pride still waits on all, a common friend."
There is no harbor of any importance between Nice and
Savona. The fishermen's boats, and even larger craft, are
seen drawn up on the beach high and dry, while square-rigged
vessels may be observed riding at anchor a mile or two from
the shore.
The Ligurians, from the most ancient times, have enjoyed

240 Albenza.
the reputation of being excellent sailors, and Columbus did no
dishonor to the national character.
Progress towards Genoa. April 28.— Rain detained us in
the morning, and we did not leave Alassio until near eleven
o'clock, when the bright shining of the sun gave us a cheerful de
parture. We had, indeed, feared that the heavy rains of the last
night would render some of the mountain-torrents impassable,
but we forded them all — only using a foot-bridge for our party
at one place, in order to relieve the carriage of some weight.
We saw, however, numbers of people carried over on the backs
of Ligurians, as we were transported yesterday.
At Albenza, on an elegant superior bridge, we crossed the
Centa, the only stream from the mountains which is permanent ;
on this occasion it was very much swollen, and so full of mud
as to discolor the sea for a long distance from the shore.
Albenza has been a famous town, and the metropolis of a
republic of the same name ; it was so formidable in ancient
times, that an alliance with it was courted by Carthage ; but
its population is now only 4000. Its walls and towers still
remain, and have a venerable and formidable appearance
There are, in this vicinity, many Roman antiquities. One
of them by which we passed is a stone bridge, rather narrow
and not high : doubtless water once flowed beneath it. It
now stands over dry ground.
Albenza was occupied by the French armies, in 1794, as a
centre of operations, and again, in 1796, Napoleon made it his
headquarters. After leaving this place, we passed over a very luxuriant
plain, several miles in extent — a country heretofore unhealthy
from stagnant water, but of late years it has become more sa
lubrious, in consequence of drainage.
At Finale, where we stopped to dine, in another decayed
palace, we viewed the magnificent cathedral of St. John. It
has been recently repaired, and was extremely rich in gilding,
in marbles and in fresco painting, which represent portions of the
history of St. John. Finale was once a very important

Approach to Savona. 241
place ; it was formerly ruled by its own marquis, but was, in
1314, conquered by Genoa. Towards the close of the fifteenth
century it was acquired by Spain, and many strong works
were erected upon the hills for its defence, where they still re
main. In the course of the afternoon's ride, our road led us
through three short tunnels in the mountains. The mountain
scenery of the road was, to-day, beyond description grand, and
almost terrific. The road ran close to the brink of the preci
pices, and the heavy breakers roared at the foot ; while the im
pending mountain, with its colossal masses, rose a thousand or
two thousand feet above our heads, and its fractured fragments,
fissured by blasts of gunpowder, hung over us, every moment
menacing a fall.
As we wound around the projecting spur of the mountains,
they presented aspects ever varying,' but always grand and
sublime. Mile after mile of such scenery kept our eyes con
stantly intent on this stupendous architecture, whose features
changed every moment as we advanced ; our feelings were
those of intense and almost painful admiration.
Happily, anxiety for our safety was prevented by the
parapet, which, in most of the critical places, was faithfully
erected. A higher road across the mountains was pointed out
to us, but it had been relinquished for the one upon which we
now travelled, which had been constructed at a lower level, in
consequence, as I suppose, of a fatal accident which happened
seventeen years ago, upon the higher road.
We passed, this afternoon, a beautiful colored marble, which
forms immense masses in the mountains, and is wrought for
architectural purposes.
Many huge rocks had been detached from the cliffs and pre
cipitated into the water, where they stood immovable, defying
the impotent dashing of the billows.
As we approached Savona, we first descried primary slates,
forming masses of mountain-rock, but broken up and inter
mingled in great confusion.
Vol. i.— 11

242 Savona.

Sato, sx gafoma.
As we approached Savona, we penetrated the last jutting
buttress of the mountains, by means of a tunnel, being the third
promontory which we had passed in the same manner. The
shore of the Mediterranean is here wrought into graceful curves,
forming bays Of great sweep, a,nd bounded at the two ends by
promontories — branches of the Alps, which protrude into the
sea. Near to Savona, and the still nearer town of Noli, we
opened a splendid bay of great extent, and of a deeper curve
than any which we had before observed. The last promontory
that we passed broke the force of the Mediterranean waves, and
still there was no secure harbor. Fishermen were engaged in
managing their nets, made of dark-brown twine. Fortifications of
great extent, and strong as stone walls and high position could
make them, appeared upon our left, and gave intimation of the
importance of Savona as the third city of maritime Sardinia : the
order in which they are ranked being Genoa, Nice, Savona.
We entered Savona beneath and through a vast arch cut
in the natural rock, whose lofty battlements formed a natural
defence which art had improved into an acropolis.
By way of a contrast to that of Alassio, we found ourselves in
the H6tel la Porte or H6tel Royale, at Savona, in a most desirable
asylum. This hotel is a large house, standing in an open area,
with free air and space around. Our parlor is in the third
story, contiguous to the bed-rooms, and all of them have fine
unobstructed views. A good dinner was provided for us at
eight o'clock, and after the cloth was removed, we gathered
around the table with our books and papers, having a home-
feeling, such as we had not, for many hundred miles, before
experienced. The house is thoroughly clean — no evil odors
are abroad, and there are excellent baths.

Columbus. 243
This is not inappropriate to the town, where by common
repj.te soap was first made, and which discovery is perpetuated
in the name of the city.
Port of Savona. — Soon after our arrival, as evening was
near, we issued at once from our hotel, and saw what was
nearest and most accessible. We first resorted to the port,
the only harbor which we have seen since we left Marseilles.
In 1528, by sinking hulks loaded with stones,* and since,
by the progressive silting up with sand, the nefarious consum
mation of jealousy and selfishness has been wrought out. By
great labor and expense, however, the passage has been so far
cleared that ships of 200 tons can now enter the harbor ; and
a large machine, afloat, appears to be ready to effect a further
improvement. Here and about the quay we had the pleasure of seeing
something of the stir and bustle of commerce, and a large num
ber of vessels, several of them square-rigged.
Columbus. — Much perplexity exists as to the real birth
place of Columbus. There is an ancient court here, near the
harbor, called the Court of Columbus. His father's f house
was pointed out to us, in which, it is said, he lived in childhood
and youth — the very house in which the intelligent and far-
seeing youth may, even then, have been maturing those studies
which led to the discovery of a continent from which we,
coming from among its citizens, have now arrived, and are
examining with no small interest the city in which the great
discoverer passed his early years. Savona is a beautiful town,
with many fine buildings, and the environs are in a high
degree picturesque, with terraced and cultivated hills.
We visited a cathedral ofthe age of Julius IL, 1604, and
saw his golden crosier, set with gems, and also an elaborately
carved pulpit, made entirely of Can-ara marble.
In this cathedral are many pictures and objects of curiosity,
which twilight, already deepening its shadows, prevented us
* Done by the Genoese on purpose to destroy the harbor.
f Proved to have been his by certain public records in Savona.

244 Savona to Genoa.
from examining satisfactorily, although an ecclesiastic in attend
ance was obliging, and ready to exhibit the most interesting
objects.

j&atams to (gtw*. April 29.
Leaving Savona in the morning, we saw, at Voragine, ten
vessels constructing on the stocks ; some just set up, and others
ready to launch. They were from 50 to 150 tons, of an inele
gant model.
In the village of Congoletto, our carriage was stopped a mo
ment to enable us to read a Latin inscription painted upon a
wall on the side of a house, and commemorating it as the birth
place of Christopher Columbus. The citizens of Genoa, how
ever, discredit all traditions giving to any other than their own
city the honor of his birth, where, it is asserted, title-deeds ex
ist showing it to have been the residence of his father, Domini-
co. It is certain that the family still exists in Oneglia, Savona,
and their vicinity. The question is as little likely to be settled
as that of the birth-place of Homer.
At Voltri, a town of 8000 inhabitants, we dined in a very
indifferent hotel, and, as usual, employed ourselves meanwhile
in a visit to the cathedral, which we found adorned much as
such provincial places usually are. Certainly it was not worthy
of particular comment.
At this place we saw still larger vessels on the stocks than
those we have seen at Voragine. They were raised on very
high ways, so that the stern of one projected over the street
through which we drove. About 100 women were gathered
by a stream of water, busily engaged in washing clothes. They
work on their knees, rubbing with their hands, and using soap ;
but it is said that they do not iron the clothes. Every where
in Sardinia we have seen this mode of washing.
In Paris and in Lyons there are floating wash-houses, in
which the women stand and wash in the river. The linen that

Beggars. 245
we have had washed in the hotels, has been returned in the
best order, and very white.
The ride this morning was delightful, and we had a fine
azure, Italian sky. The road was not so bold as it had been in
the preceding stages of our journey. A few abrupt places oc
curred, but, in general, the scenery was of a milder character ;
and the country was in high cultivation, and very beautiful.
The road ran usually upon the very brink of a precipice, but
a good parapet rendered it safe ; and the billows of the Medi
terranean, agitated by the winds of two or three days, roared
and foamed, and dashed high then- spray against the rocky bar
rier. In the afternoon the wind was so strong, and raised so
much dust, and was withal so cold, that we were constrained
to close the carriage, and therefore I could only observe that
we passed through several towns, one of them large ; and
the establishments, both in the villages and the rural abodes,
often indicated wealth and taste. As we came within a few
miles of Genoa, and particularly after we arrived in the
suburb Petro d' Arena, vehicles, especially carts, became very
numerous, and the city rose distinctly into view, lying chiefly
on the north side of the harbor. In entering it we passed two
gates, an outer and an inner, at both of which there were sen
tinels. Our passport was taken by a military officer, and we
were allowed to proceed at once to the Hotel d'ltalie, near
the custom-house, where we were elegantly accommodated in
large and fine apartments.
Beggars. — Throughout our journey in the southern part of
Europe we have found beggars in greater or less numbers, many
in southern France, and in Sardinia they have been innumerable.
Wherever we stop or move, we are followed by throngs of those
poor creatures ; and sometimes the children will run a mile or
more for a sous, or for nothing, as we do not always give to
them ; more frequently we give them bread rather than money ;
and sometimes we take it along on purpose. It is always eager
ly seized, both by adults and by children ; and the little hun-
•"•"" urchins will rush in such a crowd after a loaf, that thev

246 Pudding-Stone.
tumble over each other in the scramble. In- all the villages
there are many idle people, sitting and lounging about the
houses and streets, apparently without employment.
Geology.— Soon after leaving Savona, primary slates,
micaceous, talcose, chloritic, and perhaps argillite, made their
appearance ; but it was not always easy to distinguish the varie
ties. After a few miles, and for many miles, came pudding-
stone and conglomerate. The pebbles were rounded, proving
long attrition in water ; and some were very large, even a yard
in diameter. This rock rose to the height of several hundred
feet, hanging over our heads, and some of its loosely cohering
masses seemed ready to fall. There had been also great ava
lanches from this rock, as was proved by numerous and large
masses that were lying in the sea, and all along the shores,
while the fractures above, and the projecting and apparently
unsupported masses, threatened a catastrophe ; we were glad
when our wheels rolled us onward beyond the danger of a
downfall. In the midst of this generally coarse conglomerate
there were beds of fine arenaceous rock, whose edges appeared
water-worn, as if the strata had formecL,part of a sea-coast ; nor
could we doubt that the entire formation was accumulated in
the condition of ruins, which being worn, and rounded, and ce
mented beneath the sea, hacT been gradually elevated, and
formed for a long time a boundary against which the billows
chafed and broke, gradually wearing it into curved lines, as
they are now doing upon the rocks below, that form the present
sea-coast at this place.
The pudding-stone and conglomerate of the mountains was
succeeded by serpentine of very beautiful colors ; and this
rock prevailed for many miles. Then again came primary
slates, which, if our eyes did not deceive us, were continued to
Genoa ; for the dust blowing violently along in clouds, ren
dered our vision indistinct and uncertain. Through all the
varieties of rocks, the same variations of position that have
been described were renewed. We observed every situation of
the strata between the horizontal and the vertical ; and there

Genoa. 247
were all modes and degrees of intermingling, as if by vio-
. lence. The rounded stones washed out of the prevailing conglome
rate, being laid up with cement, and usually covered with con
crete, are used to form walls for fences and houses. We have
rarely seen hewn stone structures in this region.

Two busy days in this ancient city have enabled us to ob
tain a general idea of it without entering into full details.
Genoa is encircled by an amphitheatre of high hills, at the foot
of which the city lies in the form of a bow. It is very compact,
in diameter about two miles. Its fine harbor opens to the
south and east, and the vessels are protected by two moles.
The most ancient ofthe moles was begun in 1283, and finished
in 1583. The second mole was constructed in 1683, and a
tall light-house in 1318.
These structures are proofs how early the interests of com
merce were cherished in this city, which, with its rivals, Venice
and Pisa, engrossed for centuries the commerce of the Mediter
ranean as well as of the East, and, to a great extent, that of
Europe. During 1000 years Genoa has been conspicuous in
the annals of commerce ; and although it has lost its individu
ality as a distinct and independent state, being now united to
Sardinia, it is still an active and opulent commercial city. Its
population does not exceed 120,000, or 150,000 in the city
proper, exclusive of the suburbs.
From the water, the appearance of Genoa is very beautiful.
Seen from that position, the city, and its hills and fortresses,
form a perfect and splendid panorama ; when viewed from the
mouth of the moles, it appears a complete circle, of which every
part is distinctly seen. Genoa is surrounded by walls and very
strong fortifications, most of which being situated on the crests
and peaks of the high hills which environ the city, command

248 Genoa.
it and the harbor effectually, and are equally efficient against
an army approaching by land.
Its early history, like that of most of the cities of the old
world, is obscure ; but its high antiquity is proved by the fact,
that it was plundered and burned by the Carthaginians 221
years before our era, and the plunder they deposited at Savona.
The Roman Senate sent Lucretius Spurius to rebuild Genoa,
when it became a Roman territory, as is proved by a bronze
tablet discovered in 1506, which contains a decision made 187
years before the Christian era, by the magistrates of Rome, upon
a question of territorial limits, between the Genoese and the
inhabitants of Langasco and Voltaggio. A literal copy, in full,
of this remarkable document, is given in the little volume — The
Guide to Genoa — which is considered to be correct by our ex
cellent vice-consul, Martin Moro, Esq., a native citizen of Genoa,
to whom we have been indebted for much kindness. The
document above quoted shows that the question at issue had
been very carefully considered, as the boundaries of the territory
are described in it with great minuteness. The history of
Genoa is very interesting. It engaged in many wars, chiefly
on account of its commerce, and sustained severe conflicts with
the Turks, the Venetians, the Pisans, the French and the Aus
trians. It has been swept by the late popular wave which
has deluged Europe, and its streets and palaces bear testi
mony to the fierce conflict.
Monument to Columbus. — At last Genoa is about to do
honor to the memory of her great navigator and discoverer, by
erecting a monument worthy of her magnificence, and of his
merits and achievements.
This monument is in progress, and although it is secluded
from public view by a temporary inclosure, we were permitted to
see it. The pedestal only is erected, and the panels which are to
cover it — two of which we saw — are noble specimens of modern
bas-reliefs. The work has been intrusted to a Genoese, a pupil
of Canova. The figures upon the panels are nearly the size
of life, and the scenes are, of course, selected from the great

Statue of Columbus, Genoa.

Monument to Columbus. 249
events in the history of Columbus. That which commemo
rates his ignominious arrest in Cuba, preparatory to his trial in
Spain upon the charge of treason, struck us as one of the hap
piest efforts of modern art. Columbus is the centre figure, with
a chain depending from both arms, and with a mingled ex
pression of anguish and indignation, while a rough soldier
grasps his collar. On one side stands the magistrate in the
pomp of power, with hard and imperious features, waiting im
patiently for his prisoner. In front of this magistrate is an
Indian woman, with a countenance most expressive of hopeless
sorrow ; she holds by the hand her child, his an-ow in his hand,
and a determination in his eye, that gives token of no good
will to the magistrate. The old Indian's quiet, deep melan
choly contrasts wonderfully with the face of the indignant boy,
and with the mortification of Columbus. The figure of a half-
seated boatman, whose hand holds the rope, is wonderfully well
executed. In all, there are 13 figures, almost two-thirds the
size of life. The other bas-relief which we saw, shows Columbus
the centre of a group of priests and others, explaining with a
globe and pair of dividers, his views of the world. The angles
of the pedestal are to be sustained by four allegorical figures of
colossal size, one of which was partially exposed when we were
there. Four smaller historical panels surmount the main base,
and above this, upon a column, will stand a colossal statue of
the great discoverer. When all the parts are brought into due
connection and arrangement, this monument will be one of the
noblest of historical records ever sculptured in marble ; a
monument which will be an honor to Genoa and a reproach
to Spain, for the ignominious infliction of chains and a dun
geon, upon one who had opened to her a new world.
Streets. — All the world has heard of the narrow streets
and lofty houses of Genoa, so near each other, that in most of
them two men holding hands and stretching their arms across,
would reach from side to side. This appears the more striking
in those streets in which very lofty houses (usually seven stories
high), often too of great magnificence, rise on both sides, and
Vol. l— 11*

250 Genoa.
with their wide projecting and highly embellished cornices,
approximate so near, that one on the ground looks up at the"
heavens, as it were, through some deep fissure in. the earth.
The streets on which these splendid houses stand are, however,
tolerably clean, and do not offend, like most other narrow lanes,
by putrid exhalations.
A stranger who should - leave Genoa without visiting its
beautiful park, would fail of a high gratification. It is on the
northeast, and occupies the highest ground in the city. The
area is ample, and it is laid out in elegant walks, adorned with
avenues of horse chestnuts, now in full bloom, and reminded
us of home. We rode there this morning, making the circuit
of the city, through the " Strada Nuovo," the widest street in
Genoa. Our immediate boundary was the city wall, which
here rises not far indeed above the area on which we rode ; but
the wall on the outside sinks far down into a very deep and
splendid valley, which again slopes gently up to the top of the
environing hills and triple fortification walls, and is every where
diversified by villas and rural palaces, and the ample structures
of several benevolent institutions. The house where Lord
Byron lived when in Genoa was pointed out to us. On another
side of the prospect was the Mediterranean, serene, and to the
eye boundless. Near at hand, there were groups of young
soldiers, some without arms, engaged in gymnastic exercises,
while others down in the valley were at drill, or firing at the
target. We are told that there are now 10,000 soldiers in this
city. Like those of France, they are young men, but generally
much better-looking men than the French soldiers.
Architecture. — " Genoa the Superb "has often been called
the city of palaces, and it is no exaggeration to use this lan
guage. The most splendid belong to the 14th and 15th cen
turies, when the commerce and power of Genoa were at their
height. Their fronts, even on those narrow streets, are deco
rated with a profusion of ornaments, both in architectural em
bellishments and in statuary. Occasionally, also, the outside
of the building is adorned with fresco paintings, which at first

Churches. 251
strike an observer as being in bad taste, as they are exposed to
the weather. The Palace Brignole Sale is painted of a fierce
red. This outside ornamental painting answers much better in
this mild climate than it would in ours ; but even here heat and
moisture gradually do their work, and the pictures, often origi
nally beautiful, both in design and execution, gradually- fade.
We had observed houses ornamented in this manner, for
several miles along the road before we arrived at Genoa. We
have seen the apartments of several of the Genoese palaces,
and have been held in amazement while contemplating their
gorgeous magnificence. My limits, both of time and space,
prevent me from entering into minute details. Suffice it to
say, that these palaces of nobles and of princely merchants are
highly illustrative of the splendor of an age when wealth was
poured into Genoa in full-flowing rivers, and when her mer
chants were princes and held rank among the honorable of the
earth. Then too, painting, both in oil and fresco, had attained
perfection. If it has not since declined, it has not advanced,
and Italy, although so often laid under contribution to furnish
art for foreign lands, still contains more and better examples in
all its departments than any other country. The frescoes with
which Italy abounds are among the most astonishing produc
tions of the art. They cannot be removed, or only with such
difficulty that it is rarely attempted, and hence have remained
while empires have decayed. The name fresco conveys an al
lusion to their origin, as they are incorporated with the lime
wall when it is fresh, ingrained rather than superficially applied.
The finest specimens of the art are usually seen in the dome, or
ceiling, or roof, where their effect is that of intense beauty.
Churches. — Genoa contains noble examples of ornate
church architecture, although this remark is certainly more
true of the interior than of the exterior of most of them. We
have visited several, and find them gorgeous in gold and frescoes,
magnificent in proportions, and embellished with all that is
most rare or costly in marble statuary and precious stones.
The floors are generally of tesselated marbles of different

252 Genoa.
colors curiously, inlaid, of mosaic, or sometimes of scagliola in
imitation of mosaic. Scagliola is a very frequent material for
floors in Italy; it is made by inserting fragments of variously
colored marbles, or of other stones, in a cement which sets hard
and can then be polished. Such floors, when carefully made,
are often exceedingly beautiful, expressing designs with all the
accuracy and brilliancy of a mosaic pavement.
" St. Ambrose " is a church built entirely by the family
Palavicini, and is a fine example of the most costly and highly
decorated of Genoese churches. The whole interior surface is
incrusted with costly and various colored marbles, twisted co
lumns of oriental alabaster, and broad plates of the same deco
rate the high altar and chapels, while lapis-lazuli, jasper, and
other hard and costly stones are reserved to enrich the surface
of the private altars.
Frescoes of the most exquisite beauty cover the domes and
vaulted roofs through the entire ceiling, which is subdivided by
gilded mouldings into compartments for the pictures. These
are often by the first masters of their time, and it is worthy of
remark that Genoa possessed a school of art of her own, and
boasts many artists of sterling merit, whose names and works
are not to be found elsewhere. Thus Strozzi, the Genoeso
Capuchin, must be studied either in Genoa or in Venice, and
Gulio Romano has left some of his best touches upon the Geno
ese ceilings. In the chapels, besides massive candelabra and ornamental
work in silver, we find statues and bas-reliefs, either sepulchral or
votive, and numerous easel pictures of high merit. Our taste is,
however, constantly offended by the silver stars stuck upon the
surface of some fine Mother and Son to form a glory about the
head of the Virgin ; or, what is still more disgusting, and even
melancholy, at the doll-like images of the Mother and Son, in
a glass case, formed of wax, and adorned with all the tinsel and
lace of a child's toy. Aside from these offences against good
taste, the interior of these churches presents a blaze of glory, as
far as it can radiate from artistic productions of the skill of man

Palavicini Suburban Villa. 253
and from the richest treasures of nature. It is overpowering to
the mind to contemplate the multitude of objects to be admired,
crowding upon the senses with a rapidity almost fatal to a dis
tinct impression of each.
Our attention was attracted by several twisted columns of
concretionary marble, resembling in the mode of disposition of
their laminae, the huge stalactites sometimes seen in natural
caverns, and doubtless formed by a similar process. We after
wards found that this was a favorite form in Italy for the col
umns of altars, and when, subsequently, we were at Tivoli, we
had occasion to observe immense beds of marble of this sort,
forming the basis over which that cataract leaps.
There is a striking contrast between the exterior and in
terior of these edifices. Some are as rude on the outside as if
the masons had taken down their scaffolding but yesterday, the
rough stones or bricks, with joints unfilled, and the holes for
the cross timbers, and the supports of the scaffold still open.
Others have an ornamental portal, and the front may be crowded
with statues, and the remainder left unfinished, perhaps, from
caprice, or death, or poverty of the individual builder ; or, the
vicissitudes of war or politics prevented their completion. The
cathedral is finished externally, but in a very singular taste.
It is covered outside and inside with alternate layers of black
and white marble. This striped and checkered surface dimin
ishes the dignity of this splendid edifice, and produces a bizarre
effect unworthy of high art. Numerous examples of this sort
of building are seen in Sardinia, Lombardy and Tuscany, and
may be regarded as indicating a false taste accompanying the
decline of art in the seventeenth century.
Palavicini Suburban Villa. May 2, 1851. — This villa is
at the distance of 8 or 9 miles from Genoa. It is not ac
cessible, like the palaces in town, simply by application at the
door : a special permit from the marquis or his agent being
necessary, and this was obtained for us by the intervention of
our kind host. Our ride, on a fine day, with a genial temperature,
gave us an opportunity to see the environs of this most pictu-

254 Genoa.
resque city — an opportunity nearly lost on the day of our ar
rival, owing to the clouds of dust borne along on a chilling wind.
The taste for building palaces, and the means necessary to
this end, are still in flourishing existence in a city which, not
withstanding the severe vicissitudes of war and revolution, con
tinues to be prosperous and opulent.
Some of the richest Genoese have two or three palaces,
both in town and country; but they are occasionally aban
doned, and suffered to pass into other hands. Mr. Moro as
sures us that we were correct in believing that the inns in which
we lodged and lunched at Alassio and Finale had been palaces
of noblemen. A palace which had cost three hundred thou
sand dollars was lately sold for fifty thousand ; and fine palaces
are oftentimes rented at a similar sacrifice.
In walking the streets of Genoa, and in viewing the sur
rounding country, and even in the villages and towns along the
shore of the Mediterranean, as far as Ventimiglia, which was
the limit of Genoese dominion on the south and west, one sees
a great number of grand edifices, often fallen into decay, which
he will hazard little in believing to be, or to have been, palaces.
Our permit admitted us at once through a very high and
strong gateway of iron, within the ample domains of the Mar
quis of Palavicini. Our access to the house was by a grav
elled coachway, between lovely hedges of Chinese roses on
either side, entirely covering the stone walls with many-shaded
wreaths of blooms, forming a most beautiful ascending ave
nue for 200 to 250 yards. The establishment was on one of
the hills that spring out ofthe lower Apennines or Alps, for it is not
exactly agreed where is the dividing line between these mountain
ranges. The palace, a very spacious and lofty square building
of white marble, stands on the declivity of a small mountain,
which, to the eye, appears to be entirely covered by a dense
forest in the most vigorous state of vegetation, and of an intense
green, relieved by flowering shrubs and trees. We merely
passed through the large hall of the house. It is not possible that
they could show any thing here in art superior to the city palace

Palavicini Suburban Villa. 255
of the same nobleman, which, with all its rich treasures, we had
seen. The steps, the halls, and a large elevated terrace, sur
rounded by a massy and elaborate balustrade, were all of mar
ble — white for the interior .of the house, and tesselated with
white and dove-colored marble for the terrace.
A guide from the palace conducted us through three or four
miles of wandering in this enchanting if not enchanted rural
retreat. .
The objects are numerous and various, and are arranged
with such masterly taste and skill that the visitor is often taken
by surprise as one new discovery succeeds another. It took our
party three hours to go through these grounds — hours most
agreeably occupied in each alluring place.
In our first walk along an avenue bordered by flowering
shrubs and trees, we descried at a distance a beautiful although
small marble temple. The following inscription informed us
of the occasion of its erection :
Quod VIII. Kal Deer. An. 1841
Maria Theresa FA cum Ferd : Gennatium Duce
et Eugenio principe Caviniani AA Gentili
Pelianum Hoc Rus et ^Edes B Eavit
Ignatius Alexander Pallavieinus
Voti Compos Perenuabit.
The whole design is chaste and beautiful, and the angles
are decorated each with a draped female figure. These statues
are by Canova, and they exhibit woman in her loveliest and
most attractive form. All that belongs to grace and symme
try of person, and beauty of features, blended with elevated
mental and moral expression ; all are combined to make these
female forms the beau-ideal of lovely woman. This temple was
frescoed in Pompeian style. In the corners were large Etruscan
vases, and on the table a beautiful set of cups of the same
style. Next beyond the temple was another marble structure — an
arch of beautiful proportions, decorated with sclupture. The

256 Genoa.
following inscription upon it will gratify every religious mind,
by the elevated thought with which it terminates :
Vateri Urbani labores — Valete proeul animi
Impedimenta — Me Supera convexa Sylva et fonteis
et quid-quid est altiora loquentis naturse
Evehat ad Deum.
Next to the arch is a rustia cottage, the back of which is
blended with the rough back of the arch.
We wound our way onward through a gravelled avenue, sur
rounded by flowering native shrubs and trees, until we came to a
rude and deep quarry, which had been cloven down from the top
of the mountain, and was just such a disclosure of the structure of
the interior as a geologist would wish to see. The rock was
slate, chiefly micaceous, and the strata were nearly vertical-
From this quarry we looked down the side of the mountain,
into a deep valley, through which ran a small river ; and there
were people on its banks, who were busy in bleaching clothes
and in washing apparel. On the level floor of the quarry was
a revolving circus for the children, with mimic horses at the
ends of long arms, set in motion by hidden machinery below.
On the higher parts of the mountain we found rustic bowers,
with tables and chairs, which invited us to a short rest. I
must not forget that, as we ascended, we stepped aside to in
spect a beautiful picture of a Madonna in a secluded shrine; for
in a Catholic establishment she is never forgotten. On the
very crown of the mountain is a small castle, built in strict imi
tation of the castles of the dark ages. It appeared to he
about eighty feet high, and twenty-five wide at its base, and is
constructed of bricks and stone. It is furnished with a moat,
and drawbridge, and battlements, and ancient armor. There
are also ruins of fallen walls, which lie about as if accidentally.
Within the tower there are beautifully finished rooms — two
tiny tea-rooms and a dressing-room, and also a real effective
kitchen, with all necessary appliances for a repast or a pic-nic.
The upper story of the tower, in a room most beautifully fres-

Palavicini Suburban Villa. 257
coed in the ceiling with blue and gold, is furnished with color
ed glass of many tints. We ascended by an external stair
case of iron, quite to the top of the tower, and there we enjoyed
a glorious panoramic view of this noble and fertile region. Ge
noa in the distance, with its circlet of fortified hills and moun
tains, and the blue Mediterranean, classical by every association
with the most brilliant achievements, the highest mental attain
ments, and the most flagrant crimes. Doubtless, it was from
military associations that the Marquis (who is really a duke — a
title which he modestly declines assuming) was led to construct
a sepulchral monument in the wood, to a supposed general, not
far from the tower, and in a place where the tomb is distinctly
in view, through a natural vista. To favor the illusion still
more, a broken statue lies hard by on the ground.
In our progress we met with fountains, and cataracts, and
elegant bowers, each beautiful thing taking us by surprise ; and
real birds singing in the branches, informed us that these
harmless and elegant creatures are here protected, and find a
safe retreat. We saw also a large marble basin full of water,
while in it were innumerable gold-fish in the highest enjoyment
of their pure crystal fountain, whose water was constantly re
newed by a jet from a higher source, rising through the centre
of the basin to the height of twenty feet, when its pellucid
drops fall back in brilliant gems. Our greatest surprise, how
ever, arose from another discovery. In the midst of natural
rocks, we entered an opening — a gallery like the adit to a
mine. The floor was dry, and the gallery was winding, until it be
came dark ; but a little groping brought us to light, which stream
ed in, as in a mine, from a pit opening to the day. Onward we
went, until we caught a glimpse of a cavern in half light ; and
soon our meanderings brought us to it ; and there was a vaulted
and fretted roof, and a succession of roofs, all rich in stalactites
and calcareous drapery. A few colossal stalactites had been
brought from some other places to enrich this natural cavern ;
but it had ornaments of its own that were not borrowed ; and
there were stalagnites sawn off for seats. In a natural basin in

258 Genoa.
its floor there was a crystal lake of deep water, and there a
clean and picturesque boat invited our party to embark.
Thinking that this overture had no other object than to ferry us
across this miniature mountain lake, we were not a little aston
ished and delighted to find that our boatman navigated through
various dark chambers and recesses in the cavern which were
before unseen by us ; and then we rowed into broad daylight,
as the lake was extended a good way into the open area.
Around the lake were pagodas and other Oriental structures,
and an Egyptian obelisk at one end. There were also bridges
over the lake, and over running streams. Marble statues,
allegorical of Spring with its flowers, and of Autumn with its
fruits, were there, and a marble sylph with wings. Arbors
also, and a summer-house of wire, covered with roses, and one
of the arbors was made up of vines and flowers, leaving ver
dant avenues of access, and crowned with a floral dome — a
rural temple of Flora, under which were seats, inviting us to
linger, to which indulgence, in so beautiful a place, we were not
averse. But we had hardly taken our places, before a delicate
,spray descended in showers upon our heads ; and when, sup
posing it to be rain, we promptly retired from the open bower
to seek shelter, instantly more copious jets followed us with
their liquid aspersions ; and as we quickened our pace down
the slope, much amused with our unexpected shower-bath,
again jets d'eau darted forth in our faces, seeming to spring
out of the ground, and to rain down from the branches of the
trees. In great hilarity we retreated, and learned that these lively
jets, fed by a fountain on higher ground, and regulated by
keys, were introduced for the purpose of watering the flowers
and shrubbery, rather than for a display of water-works, and
for the amusement of visitors ; although it is to be presumed
that this circumstance was not forgotten. Our conductor, who
belonged to the household of the marquis, was as much amus
ed as ourselves, and laughed heartily at our surprise ; — and an

Palavicini Suburban Villa. 259
Italian laugh being very much like one in English, the sympa
thy of good humor pervaded the whole party.
Among the great variety of trees upon this place, evergreens
prevailed. We found several American trees and plants which
had been naturalized ; among them were the magnolia grandi-
flora, and other magnolias. The cork tree, a fine specimen, and
a vigorous camphor tree, also attracted our attention.
The taste and talent displayed in garden architecture by
the genius who planned and executed this fairy labyrinth of
beauty, and the wealth and liberality of the proprietor, combine,
with the utmost advantages of climate and situation, to make
this one of the most perfect country-seats imaginable.
After wandering over these grounds for hours, we were
never able to anticipate any thing. So completely hidden are all
these various beauties, that, from the highest point of view, you
can more easily know what is going on in Genoa than in these
grounds. Before leaving this delightful retreat, I must men
tion, that among its beautiful things is a classical monument in
Carrara marble, to the memory of the distinguished poet of Sa
vona, Chiabrera, who flourished in the seventeenth century ;
and the opinion entertained of him by the Marquis of Palavicini
is elegantly expressed in the following inscription :
Gab. Chiabrera
Anacreonta <fc Pindarum
Feliciter ausus.
The opportunity which we had enjoyed to see the rural
palace, was, in a degree, accidental. The evening before, we
had embarked for Leghorn in the little French Steamer Bos-
phore. The ship's boat took us out from the quay in a storm
of wind and rain — and what with the agitation of the waves
and the unsailor-like management of the seamen, we had no
small difficulty in getting on board, the long-boat leaped so
violently, as we stepped upon the side of the steamer, which lay
at anchor in the basin. The wind was strong from the south,
and after an attempt to pass beyond the moles, tbje Captain

260 Genoa.
cast anchor, and "we remained on board for the night. Not
having a full complement of passengers, he waited another day,
and this gave us time for our excursion.
Refining of Wine in Hogskins. — In returning to the
city, we again observed a practice which is common in this part
of Europe. The wines of the country are inclosed in hog
skins, all the apertures being duly secured : they are filled quite
full of wine, and are hung out in great numbers on the sunny
fronts of the houses and shops, to ripen the wine ; the bristles
are sometimes on the inside. However revolting this may seem
to us in America, it appears to be only an Oriental custom ex
tended into Europe ; such practices are often alluded to in the
Scriptures, and are still observed in the East by modern oriental
travellers.* Genoa, as already remarked, has experienced the severity of
war in repeated assaults by land and sea. It was originally
surrounded by a Roman wall. In 1155, the Genoese raised
another wall, to resist the impending attack of the German
Barbarian, Frederick Barbarossa. Some of the gates are yet
standing. Above the Porta Vacca, or Cow Gate, hung some of the
huge links of the iron chain that closed the fort of Pisa, which
were carried off by the Genoese, as a trophy of their great
naval victory over the Pisans. Another circuitous wall was
begun in 1327, and finished in 1537. It was from the top of
the platform on these ramparts, that we enjoyed such delight
ful views. A third circuit runs along upon the tops of the hills,
which command the town. This line was begun in 1630, and
finished in 1638.
These lines, which form a vast semicircle, are supported by
numerous forts and outworks, crowning hill after hill in a cir
cuit of seven miles, the most extensive town fortification in
* Chemists know that weak alcohol suspended in a bladder grows
stronger, by the evaporation of the water on the surface of the mem
brane — the alcohol not escaping. Such is, no doubt, measurably
the eifect of exposing wine in hogskins — and is, probably, what is
meant by ripening.

Ruins of Palazzo Fregoso. 261
Europe, except that around Paris. These fortifications were
erected chiefly by the voluntary labors and contributions of the
citizens. More than 10,000 of the inhabitants gave their gra
tuitous labors.
Among the sieges which Genoa has sustained, we can men
tion only the defence, in 1800, against the Austrians by land,
and the English by sea, by the French General, Massena ; it
was within the walls that have been described. Massena sur
rendered June 5th, 1800, after a blockade of 60 days, during
which, both the soldiers and the inhabitants suffered incredible
hardships, especially from famine. Of Massena's army of 7000
men, only 2000 were fit for duty when they surrendered. The
number ofthe inhabitants who died of famine and its consequent
diseases, was above 15,000.
Among the dilapidated palaces of Genoa, no one appeared
to us in such painful association, or rather contrast of present
ruin with ancient splendor, as that of the great admiral Doria.
Very near to it, and across the street, there is a vast ruin of a
fortress which was demolished in the revolution of 1848. The
Doria palace is all lacerated by innumerable balls, which struck
against its sides. This palace was called Palazzo Fregoso, and
was given to the celebrated Andrea Doria, who flourished in the
age of Charles V., more than 300 years ago. The palace was,
in a great measure, rebuilt by him.
The storming of Rome by the Imperialists, in 1527, drove
from that city a renowned artist, Perino de Vaga, who was re
ceived by Doria, and employed in decorating his palace, in
which he wished to reproduce the glories lately given to Rome
by Raphael and Gulio Romano. In this now dilapidated and
neglected palace, there is glory enough in the arts to an-est the
attention of the present generation.
With no small emotion, we walked through its now silent
and neglected halls — despoiled of their furniture, but still rich
in frescoes, many of which, in the interior, are uninjured, and are
exquisitely beautiful, while the portraits in the gallery are much
defaced.

262 Genoa to Leghorn.
There were, in the 14th century, four admirals ofthe name
of Doria, who were distinguished ; but the most celebrated
member of the family was Andrea Doria, the proprietor of this
palace. He was born at Oneglia in 1468. He gained great
renown by his successftd efforts against the pirates"' and Corsi-
cans. In 1524, he quitted the service of Francis I., who had
made him admiral of the French galleys, passed over to the
Hispano-Austrian party, and delivered his country from the do
minion of the French ; who, being in possession of Genoa, in
1528, Doria took them by surprise and drove them out of the
city without bloodshed. Although, under a constitution which
he formed or improved, he had been elected Doge for life, he
again entered the naval service of Charles V., defeated the Turks
and Corsairs, and died in 1560, at the age of 93.

tars to f^|«m.
We re-embarked again at evening, and at 6 o'clock the
next morning were safe in Leghorn, Livorno of the Italians.
It had been our intention to visit Pisa, but the shortness of
the time that we could be allowed there, induced us. to remain
quietly at our hotel, engaged in writing up our journals and in
resting from the fatigue of an uncomfortable passage : most of
the passengers were sick, and although I am not particularly
sensitive in that way, I was more affected than on the Atlantic.
This was, doubtless, occasioned by the buoyancy of our little
iron Bosphore, a mere toy when compared with our colossal
Atlantic steamers. The Bosphore is, however, an excellent
small ship, of beautiful model, and very well managed : the
officers and cabin servants were also very attentive and kind.
But, of course, such small steamers feel the impulse of the
waves much more than the large vessels. On our arrival at
Leghorn, our courier managed well with the military and fort
officers, and we were detained in the small boat only half an

Leghorn. 263
hour, when we were rowed a long way on a circuitous canal
running through the city, and were landed at the door of our
hotel. Ofthe city of Leghorn, our view was transient.
Although it belongs to the Duke of Tuscany, it is at present,
under Austrian protection — or rather domination, with a garrison
of German troops. Leghorn is a beautiful city ; the streets are gen
erally wide ; very well paved with large stones accurately fitted
to each other; inthebestpartsof the town, the houses arelargeand
elegant ; much of the place is quite modern, and no part of it ap
pears very ancient. It was not known to the Romans, but has
been built up by commerce in modern times. Leghorn, with its
fresh cream-colored houses, presents a most striking and agreea
ble contrast with the crowded, gloomy, and filthy French and
Ligurian towns and villages, through which we have passed.
No doubt, Leghorn owes much to the English, who have
had and still have large establishments here. Their cemetery,
which we saw, gives painful proof that many of them have here
found their final resting-place.
The English cemetery is now surrounded by the newer part
of the city, and there is an English church near by. On our
way we passed the grand promenade of the city ; it is a beau
tiful square, and is adorned by a colossal statue of the late
Duke of Tuscany, who was a great benefactor to Leghorn.
There was also a statue of the present duke, which was much
admired as a work of art, but was broken in the popular insur
rection in JL849. Near the new English cemetery there is a
grand station house for the railroad to Florence.
The extensive barracks are at present occupied by some
thousands of Austrian soldiers, nominally protectors, but really
masters in Tuscany.
The Aqueduct and Fountain is a very fine establishment
for supplying the city with water, and was the most interesting
thing which we saw in the place. It is a very beautiful struc
ture of stone, covering by my estimation three-fourths of an
acre. It receives the water by large iron tubes passing under
ground from a mountain 14 miles distant in the interior, and

264 Passage to Civita Vecchia.
brought across the country by an aqueduct upon the Roman
model. The stream delivered is 5 or 6 inches in diameter, and
it is discharged under a powerful pressure into the vast reservoir,
the roof of which is supported upon arches and pillars. Thus
the reservoir is secluded from dust or any impurity. The
water stands 30 feet deep, and is so perfectly transparent, that
an inscription on the bottom, in colored letters, to the honor
of the architect, is perfectly legible through the 30 feet of water,
although the vast room is imperfectly lighted.
Leghorn has an artificial harbor. A strong sea wall, duly
fortified against man and the elements, repels the billows, and
a quiet basin within gives ample security to the ships. Among
them we did not happen to observe the American flag, although
so often to be found here.

f ty\sx\x to €M\i $m\w.
At 5 o'clock, p. m., having passed eleven hours in Leghorn,
we again embarked on board the Bosphore, and were soon un-
der steam for Civita Vecchia. A quiet night and a smooth sea
gave us no disturbance. We continued on deck to observe a
fine Italian sunset ; fine, indeed, it was, but not finer than many
which we have at home ; hitherto I have seen no purer azure
than in our own cloudless blue canopy. We passed between
Corsica, the birth-place of Napoleon, and Elba, his first place
of exile (after the Russian campaign). Both were distinctly
visible at the distance of a few miles, and as we sailed beyond
them twilight deepened its shadows, and they gradually faded
away like a retiring cloud, and sunk beneath the horizon.
It was quite natural that our veteran courier, on seeing
these islands, should find his military enthusiasm and personal
attachment revive and rekindle, as the name of Napoleon was
often upon our lips. We encouraged him to bring forth his
youthful reminiscences, and we lingered on the taffrail to hear

Harbor of Civita Vecchia. 265
moving recitals from this humble eye-witness of Smolensk and
Borodino — of Moscow in flames — of retreating squadrons frozen
stiff, and buried beileath the- snow — of the fatal passage of the
Beresina — of the desperate and protracted conflicts of Dresden
and Leipsic, and of the final humiliation of Fontainebleau !
At 6 o'clock, a. m., the next day, we were safe in the
Harbor of Civita Vecchia. — It was a bright morning,
and we had leisure to observe the peculiarities of this remarkable
harbor, the only seaport of importance within the dominions of
the Pope. The basin is altogether artificial, and was originally
constructed by the Emperor Trajan (" Olim portus Trajani dic
tum "), and the present structure is erected upon the original
foundations. It is at once a high sea wall, and as it seemed, a
naval work of great efficiency. The harbor is entirely inclosed',
except at one narrow entrance, and flanked on both sides by
round towers, on which cannon are mounted. In front there is
a very large castle constructed by Michael Angelo, and on both
sides of it there are embrasures for artillery, pointing outward
on the sea wall, but the position of the artillery could be easily
reversed, and directed into the 'basin or against the town. This
artificial harbor is an excellent example for our country, par
ticularly for the great lakes, which, like the greater part of
the shores of the Me3lterranean that we have seen, are almost
destitute of good natural harbors.
A health officer came on board, but fortunately we had
a clean bill. The military and custom-house officers were
also to be propitiated, and after a tedious delay of an hour
and a half we were permitted to land from a row-boat. Deter
mining to leave the steamer, and to travel post to Rome, we
had only time for a breakftst, and could observe no more of
the place than was visible from the balcony of our hotel.
In this view the town was handsome, with wide areas and
beautiful buildings of elegant architecture. Civita Vecchia
(Vetus Civitas) is a place of no great importance, except as a
seaport and as a station for steamers — all that navigate this
coast, call here. The population of Civita Vecchia does not
Vol. i.— 12

266 Civita Vecchia to Rome.
exceed 6,000. In the hotel where we stopped were several
chiefs and their retainers, from Monte Negro, in the mountains
between Turkey and Austria. They were dressed in wild semi-
Asiatic and barbaric costume, and were equipped with a load
of weapons. They wore a sash which supported two long pistols
highly ornamented, a sword and a dagger, all chased with
decorations in silver in great profusion. Except the highest
chief, who was dressed in European costume, and behaved like
a civilized man, the rest stalked about the rooms in a very
ostentatious manner, evidently proud of their arms; they
seemed to take great satisfaction in passing back and forward
through the room while we were at breakfast. They were pow
erful men, of great stature, and seemed but little elevated in
civilization above our North American Indians. Like all bar
barians, they are overfond of ornament. They seemed ready
for instant action, and no doubt the slightest supposed insult
would have drawn those pistols from their girdles, and the dag
gers and swords from their sheaths —
Nemo me immune lacessit

was obviously their feeling, ii not their motto. If they are fair
specimens of the Grecian or Turkish mountaineers, what ideas
can such men have of regulated liberty and security derived
from public law and the segis of national protection, which
supersede personal defence and private combat ?

Cilrite fflm\m to %smt.
We had a lovely day for our posting to Rome (75 miles).
Our departure being late in the morning, we had hard work,
with poor horses, to accomplish our journey. Except for its
historical associations, I have rarely passed over a more unin
teresting tract of country. Much of it lies neglected, and in
utter desolation, overgrown by shrubs, furze, heather, broom,

Civita Vecchia to Rome. 267
and diminutive trees, if trees they could be called. Of villages
there were none. A few miserable clusters of ruined stone
houses, serving as stations for changes of post-horses, and some
bridges in ruins, apparently Roman, and a large ruined castle
at Santa Severa,* on the sea-shore, about half way to Rome,
were all the structures that we found in our route. At some
distance on our left there was a decent village near the Apen
nines, which appeared to run about 8 or 10 miles from the
coast ; the country between, over which we were passing, was
generally level, and the hills, when they occurred, were of a
gentle acclivity. The road was very good, and was occasionally
paved. There was an interior road, running farther from the
coast, but as it had become very bad, a new road, on which we
were now travelling, near the sea-shore, had been constructed,
and was opened in 1847. We were glad to find, as we ad
vanced, that agriculture was not entirely neglected. We saw
some very large fields of wheat, and oats, and meadow grass.
They were rarely inclosed by fences. The flocks of sheep, as
we proceeded, became more frequent, and were in general in
fine condition ; they were attended by ragged old men, with
powerful shepherds' dogs.
In general, the few people we saw were ragged, squalid
and dirty, and presented every appearance of extreme degra
dation. At every stopping place to change horses, at every
bridge, we were importuned, and from almost every miserable
hut we were pursued by beggars of the most persevering
character. Some were infirm, or crippled, or deformed, and
were proper subjects for charity. Most of our persecutors were,
however, active youths and children, more especially little girls
from 8 to 12 years of age, dirty and forlorn, but plump, and
their brilliant black eyes beautifully set off by their brown fea
tures. They followed us with astonishing perseverance, running
by the side of the coach for a mile or two, with an earnest and
imploring look ; they repeated their demands in a soft, plaintive
* An ancient port now in ruins, supposed to have been the station
of the Tyrrhenian pirates.

268 Reflections.
and musical tone. Between pity and vexation (I fear the latter
prevailed) we threw them, one by one, all our copper coins, with
dates, oranges and bread ; but this, so far from sending them
away, only brought in more, and thus we travelled on, nowhere
unattended. Reflections. — From these petty annoyances we were,
however, withdrawn by impressions of a more solemn cast.
Here we were, travelling almost in the very heart of the old
Roman Empire, where once there were towns, villas, villages,
richly cultivated fields, gardens and pleasure-grounds. Here
the masters of the world once pursued their business and
their pleasures ; here they marched their conquering armies
over regions now desolate and waste ; and the very waves of
the Mediterranean, as they broke audibly upon the shore along
which we were travelling, seemed to sigh for the glories that
are past and the miseries that are present. Over these fields,
too, has been heard, again and again, in centuries past, the on
ward tread of revengeful hosts, pressing eagerly forward, and
rolling back upon Rome the flood of invasion which had so
often burst out from her imperial gates to deluge the nations.
Such reflections arose in our minds, during a tardy progress
with exhausted post-horses, when we found ourselves towards
evening approaching the eternal city. A country of beautiful
outline, with gently curved hills and valleys, and well clothed
with grass, now presented numerous herds of horses and cattle
grazing in the wide-spread fields. In our entire progress we
had rarely seen the ground disturbed by the plough. Some
few fields were ploughed, and we occasionally met the farmers
returning from their labors, bearing their agricultural instru
ments upon their shoulders. In general, the farmers were
decently clad, especially as we approached Rome. Some were
reposing in the shade, and reminded us of the scenes in Virgil's
Georgics. How different were the scenes which they now con
templated, and how changed is this once fertile land !
With pleasure I name the beautiful cattle, which became
more and more numerous towards the end of our day's journey.

Reflections. 269
They are of a delicate mouse color, and are large and round ;
the bull is of enormous size, and the horns of all of them were
very widely branched out, and have a beautiful lustre, as if they
had been polished by art. There were also numerous flocks
of goats, with their long curled horns twisted back upon their
necks, and almost touching their flanks.
At length, in the dim distance of 16 miles, we descried the
dome of St Peter's, which alternately rose and fell as we as
cended and descended the hills. Now, in the very confines of
Rome, we looked intently for villas and superior cultivation,
and other signs of a great and ancient city. But all was blank,
until just before we arrived at the gate.
On our right we discerned, in the twilight, the arches of
an ancient Roman aqueduct still maintaining its connection
with the city, and on our left St. Peter's and its colonnade were
imperfectly seen over the city wall. At last we entered the
gate, the Porta Cavalleggieri, just at evening twilight. It was
near this gate that the French army, in 1849, sustained a se
vere check with much loss. The remaining light was just
sufficient to show us the military and civil officers and authori
ties who watch over the city ; and as our horses were reined
up and we were brought to a stand, we were apprehending a
tedious delay at the custom-house, to which it would have been
the regular course to send our party and our trunks. But
the skilful management of our courier, who is no stranger
in Rome, very soon relieved us from anxiety, and we were
permitted to proceed. We rode by the immense colonnade
of St. Peter's, and the stupendous church and dome, and soon
passed the only bridge of ancient Roman construction that re
mains — the (Elian, over the Tiber — and with no distinct per
ception of other objects, except the venerable Castle of St.
Angelo, and now and then a church planted along the crowded
streets. After driving two miles through the city, we arrived
in the fine open area, Piazza del Populo, and found comfortable
apartments in the H6tel des Isles Britannique, kept by a Ger
man. The attending servants spoke English. We had a good

270 Rome.
parlor and comfortable bedrooms, and were at once domesti
cated. We ought to have entered Rome with enthusiasm, but we
had been so subdued by the scenes that had preceded our ar
rival, and the entrance is so stealthy, through a low valley and
a crooked avenue, that even after we had passed the gate, we
could hardly realize that we were in the Eternal City.

%smt.
May 5, 1861.
In the morning I awoke, and behold I was in Rome ! My
first returning consciousness brought a more realizing conviction
than I felt last evening, that I was indeed in Rome. Rome, famous
long before the Saviour appeared on earth — Rome, conqueror of
the then known world — Rome, the seat of learning, arts and elo
quence — Rome, heathen in the midst of all its splendors, and per
secuting and destroying the Christians — Rome, prostrated by bar
barians, still not destroyed — Rome, nominally Christian in after
ages, then, and for centuries, a persecuting power, in cruelty
rivalling her own heathen era — Rome, often torn by factions or
possessed by foreign armies, and still great in her desolation ; —
in this very Rome, where Paul preached and died, I had
now indeed arrived, and thus was about to connect the present
with the past, by surveying its ruins, physical, mental, and
moral. The sound of the bugle and the trumpet called me
early in the morning to my window. There were many cohorts
of French infantry at the hour of six, going through their drill
in the beautiful square of the people, and soon brilliant squad
rons of cavalry defiled near the hotel, winding in a long train
over the square and up the Pincian Hill — many — many hun
dreds, until it seemed as if there would be no end. Now and
then, at a sharp word of command their flashing sabres sprang
from the sheaths, glittering in the morning sunbeams as mena-
t-inj.i the tremendous charge of cavalry in battle. The present

Vicissitudes. 271
force of the French army in Rome is 20,000 men, quartered m
and near the city. They possess all the strong points — the
Castle of St. Angelo, the ancient tomb of the emperors, and
the more modern fortress of the Popes, is now bristling with
French bayonets.

Any one who has attempted to view Rome in a fortnight,
needs no assurances of the impossibility of seeing even the ex
terior of all her monuments. Our experience, however, convin
ced us that by great industry, and the best economy of time,
much may be done even in so short a period. We were for
tunate in the choice of our worthy guide, Sante Beltera, well
known to many Americans as a most competent and zealous
cicerone. We had always at command two open carriages, for
the greater economy of time, working all day, from 1 0 to 1 2 hours
each day — dining after dark, and recording our observations at
night. As our active review of Rome has advanced, we have
found ourselves, day by day, able to comprehend more and
more, the vastness both of the past and the present, and have
become somewhat familiar with this wonderful city.
On our wheels, or on our feet, we have ranged far and
wide, in and around it, and we no longer feel like strangers.
Even this short familiarity has deepened our impressions of
what Rome has been in her days of prosperity and glory ; and
fallen, as she is, from her high eminence, she is still splendid
and venerable in her ruins. It is surprising that so much of
ancient Rome should remain after the devastations of war and
the dilapidations of time.
Vicissitudes. — Rome has been, again and again, ravaged
and burned by Barbarian armies, and again and again, has it
been besieged and taken by the hosts of Christian nations. It
has been trampled under foot, not only by Pagan legions, but
by those who fought under the banner of the Cross, and last of
all, a great nation which ought to have been well instructed in
the value of liberty, by the sanguinary struggles, both domestic

272 ' Rome.

and foreign, of sixty years ;— itself, in name, a republic,* has
' sent its disciplined bands to crush the commonwealth of Rome,
as it was rising again from the tomb, after the slumber of

Piles of ruins, without and within the walls — and the walls
themselves show, both by their breaches and by their repairs, how,
in. the course of ages, they have suffered. Recent ruins of vil
las and palaces, and devastated regions, two years since covered
with forests, now prostrate ; and then rich in cultivated fields,
now overgrown by weeds and shrubs, attest the severity of
the late contest. The odious sound of foreign bugles and
trumpets, the martial array of infantry and' cavalry, the hated
vigilance of French sentinels in every public place, force on the
Romans the painful conviction, that the Gauls are again mas
ters in Rome. Should the army which, at present, imposes
upon this city a false tranquillity, be withdrawn, as were the
Roman legions of old from Britain, the Austrians would soon
fill Rome with their troops, which now swarm in Lombardy
and Tuscanv. We cannot even discern the rising dawn of
hope for Cjgnr^essed Italy.
SpoLiAfroks. — If the stupendous and beautiful structures
of ancien^Bme had suffered from war alone, there would have
been an ena to the devastation.
But architecture and art, and ancient institutions have suf
fered immensely from a worse enemy within the walls. A false
view of duty, and groundless fears of the effect of pagan temples
and theatres, and even forums, upon the religious feeling of - a
nation, nominally converted to Christianity, under the imperial
sway of Constantine, led to the most wanton devastation of all
that was connected with pagan grandeur.
Ancient Rome, notwithstanding the noble efforts of Na
poleon and of some of the Popes, towards disinterring the Forum,
the triumphal arches, and other interesting structures — ancient
Rome still lies, in a great measure, buried beneath accumulated
* Now a Despotism, March, 1853.

Building Materials. 273
earth and rubbish, and beneath modern edifices, and is, indeed,
an immense sepulchre of departed grandeur.
Building Materials. — The greater number of the Popes ap
pear to have regarded the ancient Roman structures as quarries,
to afford materials for modern buildings. The ancient Romans
had obtained the best stones which the country afforded, and they
wrought them out and laid them up with consummate skill.
One of the principal materials, was the Tiburtine stone, now
called travertine. It is a buff-colored concretionary limestone,
and is easily quarried and worked. Another is called pepe-
rino ; a volcanic tufa composed of the ejections from the
ancient Alban volcanoes, and of the accumulations of volcanic
matters, which formed immense beds beneath the sea. The
presence of marine shells in the peperino proves its early sub
mersion, and, in the course of geological events, the aggregated
mass was raised, and now forms the basis on which Rome was
built. It is also found extending, far and wide, beneath tjie
Campagna. This peperino is also quarried and wrought with great facility.
It is not lava ; it is merely an accumulation of ejected or disin
tegrated materials.
Fortunately, large currents of real lava descended in an
cient geological ages, from craters now extinct in the Alban
Hills. At and near Albano, are cavities, believed to have been
once craters of volcanoes, but which are now lakes or dry cavi
ties. From one of these, Albano, as Dr. Daubeny supposes, the
current of lava flowed, which approached within a short dis
tance of the city, and afforded to the ancients, and still affords
to the moderns, inexhaustible solid materials for roads, and for
other purposes, for which the travertine and peperino are too
incoherent. In the Roman structures, there is a severe and simple gran
deur, and a manly and intelligent devotion to objects of utility
as well as national dignity, that are conspicuous even in the
early periods of the city ; under the kings and consuls, as well as
under the emperors.

274 Rome.
Without conquest, ancient Rome would never have risen to
be what it was; the empire of the Romans was erected upon the
subjugation and plunder of all nations, whom they, in their un
principled warfare, slaughtered without mercy; — led their kings
and queens, and nobles, and fathers of their people to Rome,
to grace a triumph ; — added the conquered countries, as prov
inces to the empire ; and to insure their subjugation, they gave
them the real blessings of permanent roads, whose terminus was
Rome, and wise laws for their government, were incorporated
with those of the conquered countries.
Rome, with all its mental and physical dignity, with orators,
poets, historians and moralists, whose works are, to this day,
studied as models — Rome was inherently heathen ; they knew
not the true God. They hated and crushed the Jews, the chosen
people of Jehovah ; still more intensely did they hate the
Christians, and gave them, by tens of thousands, to slaughter,
to the wild beasts in the amphitheatres, and to death in every
form of torture ; they deified their own heroes, and we have
this day read on the triumphal arch of Titus, the impious ascrip
tion of divine honors to himself, in the words Divo Tito — which
inscription is still as legible as it was on the day when it was
first cut.
Thus they made a God of the very man who had burned
the holy temple, and rased Jerusalem, like a ploughed field.
Still stands that proud arch of triumph ; still marches, or seems
to march, the procession, bearing on their shoulders the golden
candlestick, with its branches ; while on the opposite side the tri
umphal car, drawn by war-horses, bears the emperor proudly
along.

I am far from attempting to describe Rome. Such an un
dertaking would require much more extended observation than
it is in our power to make. But even our rapid surveys may
convey to our friends such impressions as travellers like ourselves
actually receive, and if presented as a correct and vigorous out-

Excursion to Tivoli. 275
line, the sketches may not be without interest, and may, possi
bly, afford some instruction. The various topics will be pre
sented, not always in the order of time in which the objects
were seen, but in such connection as may be most convenient.
The Tiber. — Famous, from high antiquity, our eyes caught
eagerly, the first glance of its rapid and powerful current ; — still
yellow, as in the days of Horace, the flavus Tiber. This color
its waters will ever retain, as they bear along the yellow sands
or clay of the Campagna, or of the higher regions in Tuscany
where the river rises.
Its bridges have been famous in the history of Rome. We
beheld, not without emotion, the pillars rising still above the
stream, although in ruins, . of the bridge which Horatius
Cocles " kept so well."
The ruins of this bridge are opposite to the Aventine Hill,
and lower down the stream than any other bridge.*
Excursion to Tivoli. May, 11, 1850. — The Campagnais
a tract of country 90 to 100 miles long by 30 to 40 broad, ex
tending from Etruria to the Circsean Promontory, and from
Civita Vecchia to Terracina. It is a vast undulating plain, and
has the Mediterranean on the S. W., and the mountains on the
E. and S. E. Upon these mountains were situated many towns,
villages and strongholds, once held by nations and tribes which
long resisted the Roman power, but were at length subjugated
and added to the empire. Among them, Tibur, now called Ti
voli, was distinguished. As the distance from Rome is 18
Italian miles, or 21 English, we were in our carriages soon after
six o'clock in the morning.
Near where we were to pass out of the city, on the summit
of the Quirinal and Viminal Hills, are the ruins of the baths of
Diocletian, begun in a. d. 302, and finished by Constantine.
The famous Baths of ancient Rome, are not to be regarded
in the restricted sense which that word would imply to us.
The Baths of Diocletian, of Titus and Caracalla, whose, ruins
* There appears to be some doubt whether this is the bridge de
fended against Porsenna.

276 Rome.
are still conspicuous, were, in fact, immense imperial palaces, in
which, indeed, the baths made a great figure, but were asso
ciated with vast halls for pleasure, libraries, and other apart
ments of great extent.
The establishment which bore the name of the Baths of
Diocletian was a mile in circuit. Forty thousand Christians
were employed in their construction; and the discovery of some
bricks stamped with the figure of a cross, was probably the
means of their preservation from the reforming vandalism of the
early Christians.
Church of St. Maria Degli Angeli. — Fortunately
Michael Angelo obtained permission of the Pope to convert one
of the circular halls of these ruins into a church. This now
forms the magnificent church of St. Maria Degli Angeli, which
we viewed with admiration. The vaulted roof still retains the
metallic rings from which the ancient lamps were suspended.
There are in this church eight massive monolithic columns of red
Oriental granite, forty-five feet high and sixteen in diameter, still
standing in their original positions. Eight feet of the base are
buried, and a new base moulding was* adapted by Michael An
gelo at the present level. We in vain inquired how and where
such stupendous masses were quarried, hewn, and fitted, and how
transported from distant countries, and erected where we now find
them. A Roman nobleman assured us that after all the ravages of
time and war and the entombment of many columns beneath the
rubbish and accumulated soil and ruins, there are still 6000
monolithic columns remaining in Rome ; and among them are
those of surpassing beauty as well as stupendous magnitude.
This church is 336 feet long, 91 feet wide, and 84 high. In
the floor there is a brass meridian laid down in 1701 by Bian-
chini, the antiquary. It was traced with great care, and is be
lieved to be one of the most accurate in Europe. With far less
pretensions to fine architecture than many other buildings in
Rome, this church, formed out of a fragment of Diocletian's
* There are eight others of brick, and stuccoed in imitation of
granite.

The Campagna. 277
baths, possesses an interior of remarkable grandeur, and cannot
be viewed without peculiar interest. There is still another
church, that of St. Bernardo, included within the Diocletian
walls. We drove out of the city, through the ancient Roman gate,
called St. Lorenzo. It is still connected with the walls of an
cient Rome. These walls are surprisingly perfect. The entire
circuit is fourteen or fifteen miles, including the Vatican. We
were now fairly out upon the Campagna, which stretched be
fore us twenty miles to the mountains. This region is in better
cultivation than that which we passed in coming from Civita
Vecchia. Most of it is in grass, upon which herds of cattle,
and horses, and some buffaloes were grazing. These buffaloes
were quite tame, and are made to work like oxen. They are
black, and their flat and unsightly horns are bent downward
and backward. The buffalo of Italy must not be confounded
with our American buffalo, which is rather a bison, and has a
dorsal bunch, which is not found upon the Italian buffalo ; and
there are other decided differences.
The Campagna resembles very much our American prairies.
Like them it stretches away in a vast billowy plain, often
beyond the limits of vision. Seen horizontally, the surface ap
pears only in part strictly level. There are great sweeping-
curves up and down, and also gentle undulations ; and being
almost without trees, it is very similar to the prairies of Illinois
near Peoria.
Towers. — The eye of the traveller, ranging over the Cam
pagna, discovers here and there high square towers, placed at
distances convenient for communication. Some are in ruins,
and seme are little impaired, with their battlements entire, or
nearly so. They were the stations of the Praetorian Guards ;
and those on the wide area of the Campagna are well situated
for observing movements from the mountains or on the lower
country. They are venerable memorials of centuries long gone
by, and eloquent historians of the warlike ages of Italy.
Geology. — The prevailing rocks of the Campagna, as fai

278 Rome.
as I could observe, are peperino and travertine. The peperino
lies in vast strata, and has been excavated in many places, to
obtain the " Roman cement," which is only a variety of peperi
no. Often it is of a reddish color, from oxide of iron ; and it is
mingled with augite, hornblende, and pumice, and other vol
canic matter.
The travertine is another rock lying in immense masses
along with the puzzolana; and both are in strata, nearly or
quite horizontal, accompanied by beds of clay. The travertine
quarries that afforded most of the building materials of both
ancient and modern Rome, are situated in the region through
which we passed. The principal quarries are near to the
mountains ; and large blocks, quarried and squared, were lying
upon the surface along the road. We observed a singular de
posit of wrought travertine on the other side of Rome, as we
came from Civita Vecchia.
Solfatara Lake. — About twelve miles from Rome the road
was intersected by a canal, nine feet wide, four feet deep, and
two miles long, through which rushed rapidly a stream of
water having the decided odor of sulphuretted hydrogen. The
water, owing to sulphur upon the bottom, appears of a milky
color, but when taken up in a glass is perfectly limpid.
Its source is in the Solfatara lake, formerly called Aqua Al-
bulae, and Lago di Tartaro. We drove to it through the open
fields, a mile from the road, sorely against the will of our coach
men. The reason of their hesitation soon appeared ; for the
ground, even where the surface was rock, resounded as if it were
cavernous ; and that it was really so was proved by several col
lapses of the surface, which had broken in, and, subsiding, had
formed sinks or hollows four to six feet deep. A coach and
horses had actually broken through some time since. We soon
arrived at the lake, which, two centuries ago, was a mile in cir
cumference, but now has a diameter of only 500 feet. Sir
Humphrey Davy examined this water, and found it to be
highly charged with carbonic acid and sulphuretted hydrogen.
Of the carbonic acid gas, it contained more than its volume.

Solfatara Lake. 279
The water is beautifully transparent, and very deep. The shore
is treacherous, being formed by deposits of lime from the water,
incrusting the sedges on the banks into loosely coherent masses,
whose edges project out over the water. We noticed with
pleasure this process going on, by which travertine is formed ;
and we afterwards found in the solid travertine of the plain in
situ, and at a distance from the lake, impressions and stems of
vegetables, leading us to conjecture that this sort of action has
been long in progress, and that its results are vastly more ex
tended than we had at first imagined. The gradual contrac
tion of the lake from this cause leads to the easy inference, that
it may one day obliterate itself, and its waters find some other
exit to the Anio, into which it now flows. A peasant cut off for
us a portion of the green bank with his spade ; and the detached
piece floated away to another part of the shore ; a fact which
gives origin to the name isole natante, floating island, Insula
natans. The carbonate of lime, dissolved in the water, is de
posited in a very porous state, when it becomes solid. It is,
therefore, buoyant ; and as the gas is constantly rising from the
water, it sustains the vesicular mass, and even pushes it along.
The lake is every where, and at all times, briskly effervescent
with the extricated gases. The water is very pungent and acid
ulous, owing to the extricated carbonic acid, and pleasant to
those who like a sulphur water.
When a stone is thrown into the lake, the escape of gas is
prodigiously increased ; the effervescence becomes exceedingly
active, and in a minute or two the water boils vehemently, as
in a heated caldron. If several stones are thrown in at the
same time, the boiling becomes excessive, and continues for a
long time. It is due, no doubt, to the mechanical agitation of
the water, and of the spongy mass at the bottom, and not as
our guide would persuade us, to a solution of the fragment of
carbonate of lime thrown in. From the quantity of gas given
out in consequence of agitation, it is obvious that the water is
very deep, and that it must be charged with gas, under a con
siderable pressure, in cavities below ; and as the fountain throws

280 Rome.
up its living streams, the gas, as the pressure diminishes, be
comes active, and rapidly escapes. Being surcharged with
carbonic acid gas, and at the temperature of 80° Fahr., it rea
dily dissolves a portion of carbonate of lime in its upward passage.
As the superfluous gas escapes, the carbonate of lime is deposited
upon growing vegetables, and whatever things else come in its
way. In this manner it forms those beautiful incrustations that
here abound, and of which we were disposed to bring away an
inconvenient load.
Probably those collapses which I have named, producing the
sinks, are due to the solution of the carbonate of lime, by these
highly charged mineral waters, which now run copiously under
the surface. We saw a large stream passing rapidly into and
disappearing in one of the sinks.
No animal can breathe on the surface of this water. Our
guide informed us that he threw in a dog, which instantly per
ished. These waters were known also to Strabo, who consider
ed them as medicinal. There are extensive ruins near the Sol
fatara lake. They are the baths constructed by Agrippa, fre
quented by Augustus, and enlarged by Zenobia, who resided
long at Tivoli, and died there.
We can have no hesitation in referring this remarkable
phenomenon, with its attendant evidences of subterranean heat
and chemical change, to the same general cause which, from the
earliest tradition, has been ceaselessly active in the volcanic dis
tricts of Naples, and whose more ancient records are plainly
read in the various lava streams of the neighborhood of Rome.
On our way to Tivoli, we passed an old Roman bridge across
the Anio, four miles from the city, called the Pons Mammeus.
Our road was along the ancient Via Tiburtinse. In several places
the old road is uncovered. It is composed of large blocks of lava
still level and firm ; and there appears to be no reason why it
should not last thousands of years more. The bridge called
Ponte Lucano, which we crossed, is an ancient Roman struc
ture of stone, and is in high preservation. In connection with
the tomb of Plautius Lucanus, which is just by the road, it pre-

Hadrian's Villa. 281
sents a striking and highly picturesque combination. The
tomb is a very large, round monument, resembling that of Ce
cilia Meletta.
Hadrian's Villa. — To inspect these ruins was one induce
ment to visit Tivoli, at the foot of whose mountain they are
situated. ' Hadrian's Villa is indeed in ruins. Excepting the bar
racks, not one apartment is in perfect preservation ; but there
are many walls and outlines. It was a busy occupation of two
hours merely to walk through these ruins. One is astonished at
the magnitude of the ancient Roman establishments. This
villa of Hadrian (for he had still another at Palestrina), had,
including all its buildings, a circuit of eight to ten miles, and
was, in fact, a town. It contained a Lyceum, an Academy, a
Vale of Tempe, a Serapeon of Canopus (Egyptian), a library, bar
racks for the guards, a Tartarus, Elysian fields, numerous tem
ples, and a Greek theatre, whose outlines are still visible. There
was also a marine theatre, whose walls are now nearly perfect.
Hadrian assembled in this villa an astonishing number of
works of art, collected especially in illustration of his own
travels. They have been chiefly removed from the ruins, and
are to be seen in the Vatican. The Egyptian antiquities espe
cially are very splendid, and most interesting. The beautiful
marbles which incrusted all these walls have been ruthlessly
torn down by the modern Romans, and burned into quicklime,
or appropriated to adorn modern palaces. The Venus de
Medicis, now at Florence, was taken from a niche which is still
shown in the Temple of Venus.
We can never sufficiently regret that his splendid villa had
not been allowed to remain as Hadrian left it in the year 138
of the Christian era, when he died.
Tivoli. — From the Villa of Hadrian we ascended to
Tivoli, on the side of the mountain Ripoli. The town itself is
mean, with narrow and dirty streets, and a squalid population of
6300 people meanly representing its former grandeur. It was a
favorite resort of the Romans. Horace rambled and mused here,
and has left on record his earnest wish that he might here pass

282 Rome.
the evening of his years. Syphax, the Numidian king, died
here two years after his captivity, 202 b. c, and Zenobia also
ended her days in Tivoli, after gracing the triumph of Aurelian.
She was allowed a beautiful villa, surrounded by all the pomp
of an Eastern princess.
But to the scenery. The whole world have heard of the
beauties of Tivoli. Have they been exaggerated? I think
not. We will resort, then, at once to the fine little antique
temple of Vesta, the Tiburtine Sibyl. It is a circular structure)
only 21 \ feet in diameter, partly in ruins; but of its colon
nade of Corinthian pillars, ten pillars out of 18 remain. It
stands upon a giddy pinnacle of rock, just at the inner edge of
the village. Beneath the projected shadow of the temple
we took our seats, on a warm day, while we refreshed our
selves with oranges, and gazed with interest at the splendid
scene. We were in the midst of a group of mountains apparently
1500 feet high. They are arranged in a circular form, very
near to each other, Standing face to face, and foot to foot,
forming an abrupt and precipitous amphitheatre. Down the
side of the mountain nearest to us, a delicate ribbonlike cata
ract was precipitated, with a gentle movement, and lost itself in
the abyss, hundreds of feet below. A little further off, a much
larger stream rushed down the mountain-side, in a splendid
river, snowlike, resounding as it fell, while a cloud of spray
glittered in the sunbeams, and revealed a brilliant rainbow.
Thus far, all was beautiful below, and grand above ; for the
bleak and barren mountains, with naked rocky precipices and
pinnacles, formed a strong contrast with the silvery cataracts
and the bright verdure of the vale.
We now descended by a circuitous and zig-zag path, cut in
the rocky and often perpendicular cliffs, until we discovered
another cataract, rushing from a vast dome in the mountain,
formed by an avalanche of the rock, whose massy ruins were
around us, and disclosed, by their fracture, a concretionary
structure in parallel layers, evidently a gradual deposit from so-

Tivoli. 283
lution in water. It is from such masses, that the so called Ori
ental alabaster is obtained, of which one sees so many speci
mens in the Italian churches.
We were now led through an artificial gallery, excavated
in the limestone rock, with windows to look out on the scenery.
Advancing to various points of view, we found ourselves at the
bottom of the descent. Here stood seven donkeys in waiting,
corresponding to the number of our party. The donkeys were
caparisoned for the occasion, with rope-halters for bridles ; they
had, however, secure saddles, and two of them were chair-
shaped, with backs, for the reception of the ladies. For myself,
I selected the longest stirrup-straps, and mounted the meanest
of these humble animals. Our little train wound up the oppo
site side of the gorge, in a zig-zag path, cut out of the rock as
before, and rendered secure by a good rampart wall. Several
attendants followed to urge on the tardy animals, and a sepa
rate individual watched each of the ladies. We soon arrived
at the place where the principal cataract, which we had seen
from the other side, issues in two streams ; after turning a point
in the rock, they instantly coalesce into one, and then the united
torrent rushes thundering down.
In 1826, a dreadful accident was caused by an inundation
of the river, which then passed through a part of the town ; it
overthrew a church and 36 houses, precipitating them down
the abyss. Influenced by this calamity, the reigning Pope,
Gregory XVI., resolved to turn the river from the town, and
for that purpose, caused two wide and lofty tunnels to be exca
vated quite through the mountain.
You look, a long distance through these galleries, and the
daylight, admitted at both ends, enables the traveller to pass
securely through, on a broad footpath, cut out of the mountain
rock. This perforation is a noble monument to the honor of
the humane and enlightened Pope, under whose orders this
great work was done.
Cataracts. — Out of this artificial channel the river Anio
rushes in one grand torrent, close to which we descended by

284 Rome.
excellent stone steps, where it is precipitated in a magnificent
cataract on this bright day, we enjoyed its clouds of spray glit-
tering with gems, its splendid coronet of rainbows, and its cease
less roar.
Mounting to the ample platform, at the top of the stairs, we
were soon again on the backs of the donkeys, and wound our
way leisurely, in a large circuit, quite around the mountain am
phitheatre. At every step, the view was unfolded more and
more beautifully. Tivoli, perched upon the top of the opposite
mountain, appeared like a castellated fortress, and in its numer
ous wars it has often sustained that character. As we pro
ceeded, cataract after cataract was disclosed, — larger and small
er, — threading their way down the mountain from the Tivoli
side. Seven cataracts were in view at one glance. They were
beautifully contrasted with the rude rocks above, and the in
tense verdure below : the entire scene formed a delightful pano
ramic view, and it added no small interest to the prospect, that
it had been seen and admired for more than 2000 years, by
illustrious men and women, whose names glitter in these ever
passing and ever renovated streams, and are inscribed by mem
ory upon the everlasting mountains.
A faithful and most beautiful series of views of the falls of
Tivoli and Terni, was made by Gmelin, towards the close of the
last century, and the prints taken from them are well known to
lovers of art.
Return to Rome. — Returning to Tivoli, we gladly dis
mounted from the donkeys, and resuming our carriages, drove
rapidly down the mountain, passing the ruins of the villa of
Mecsenas, as well as several other ruins and splendid rural
palaces, which we had not time to visit.
Tibur existed as an independent state, 500 years before the
founding of Rome, and after its subjugation, it was always,
through succeeding ages, associated in a conspicuous manner,
with Roman history. To explore the antiquities of Tivoli, and
to visit Horace's Sabine farm 12 miles off, would require several
days.

Rome from the Tower of the Capitol. 285
On our return we passed rapidly over the Campagna by the
road which brought us out from Rome. From the mountain it
appeared like a yellow thread, winding through the fields and
meadows. Twilight was already upon us, and we hastened to
escape the chill damps of evening, which we felt the more from
their strong contrast with a warm day, and some transient
reflections passed through our minds upon the malaria of the
Campagna, as we drove into Rome and were soon sheltered in
our comfortable hotel.

I01M txsm t\t %stsn at t\t tiDggitol. May 12.
We ascended to the summit of the tower which crowns the
Capitol. This comparatively modern building stands on the founda
tion of the ancient Capitol, and affords a commanding view of
Rome and of the surrounding country. It is the best position
from which to make out the seven hills of ancient Rome, whose
position the observer is soon able to recognize after a little
trouble, and with the aid of a good map or guide. We will
suppose one to stand on the Tower of the Capitol, and to take
first a general panoramic view. He sees the Tiber making
three great curves, as it passes along through or near to the
city. The first curve on the north is near the Flaminian Way,
by the Porta and Piazza del Popolo (on the extreme north of
the city, where the wall forms its boundary). Here the modern
city begins. The curve which I now mention winds east and
south into the city. The next curve runs west and south, by the
Castle of St. Angelo, and towards St. Peter's. The stream then
runs south and east, until it arrives opposite to the Capitol, when
it again turns and passes south and west, and flows onward 1 8
miles, to the ancient port of Ostia, at its mouth (now a trifling
village). The usual elevation of the river above the level of the
sea is 35 to 40 feet, and it runs about 3 miles within the city,

286 Rome.
from wall to wall. To the northwest, beyond the Tiber, and
at the very verge of the city on that side, the observer sees the
dome and colonnade of St. Peter's at the foot of the Monte
Vaticano, towering above every other object. Turning to the
north, and just by the Piazza del Popolo, he sees the large and
beautiful Pincian Hill (Monte Picino), bounding the city on
that side, and itself shut in by the city wall. Neither the
Vatican nor the Pincian Hill was included within the ancient
city, nor are they to be enumerated among the seven hills of
classical association.
The height of the hills within the walls is from 120 to 160
feet. The Pincian is very beautiful, being adorned with avenues
of shade-trees, and laid out with taste and skill. Our hotel is
exactly at its foot, and we are often tempted to ramble there ;
the prospect is very fine, especially into ancient Etruria, on the
right bank of the river. Looking over the wall, the devastated
domain of the ancient Borghese villa is seen, a painful sqji-
venier of the revolution of 1849. It proved a useless waste,
as the French attack was not made on that quarter. The
grand forests of ancient trees, many of which had flourished
for centuries, were cut down by the Roman army, and many
houses demolished, among others, that formerly occupied by
Raphael, which is now a ruin.
Turning the eye a little to the east and north within the
walls, we rest on the Quirinal, the first which we recognise of
the seven hills of old Rome. It is easily distinguished by the
long palace of the Pope so well known by the same name.
He was in this palace when, in 1849, his personal safety was
endangered by a popular onset, and he was saved by his Swiss
guards, 150 of whom are always in his service, and are at all
times to be seen, at St. Peter's and the Vatican, in the gaudy
blue and yellow uniform devised by Raphael.
To the right of the Quirinal we see the Viminal, which is
distinguished by the ruins of the baths and palace of Diocletian,
mentioned in the excursion to Tivoli. This hill is not very
conspicuous, but its position is easily understood, as it is situ-

.eHIMOArc,^

"^"ICULB^

m, ^^

Hills of Ancient Rome.
(From Rume in the 19th Century.)

Rome from the Tower of the Capitol. 287
ated between the Quirinal and the Esquiline. The site of
the latter is distinguished by turning the eye still a little more
to the right and east. The most conspicuous object upon it is
the church of St. Maria Maggiore, whose domes are emi
nent above all surrounding objects in that part of Rome.
Directing our survey to the southeast, and quite in the re
mote parts of the city, just within the ancient walls and far
beyond the present population and their houses and squares, we
descry the church of St. John Lateran, and this is on the
Celian Hill (Monte Ccelia).
Now let the observer direct his eyes to a conspicuous and
almost naked hill of large area, bounded by extensive ruins,
near at hand and almost at his feet ; this is the Palatine Hill
(Monte Palatino), upon which the first Roman settlement was
made by Romulus. The ruins are those of the Palace of the
Ca3sars. It is at present the most conspicuous of all the seven
hills of Rome. The observer will next look still further to the
right, and a little more to the south and west, and he will
readily discover a green hill, hardly occupied at all by houses,
and separated by a distinct valley from the Palatine. This is
the Aventine Hill (Monte Aventino).
Thus we have the seven hills of ancient Rome, most of
which are depopulated, or partially peopled, or occupied only
by a few public buildings. The great central hill, the seat of
the glory of ancient Rome — the Palatine — lies in utter desola
tion, and the Aventine and Celian are little better.
On the right bank of the Tiber, and quite beyond the limits
of ancient Rome, there is an important hill — the Janiculum
(Monte Gianocolo). It was the principal seat of the French
besieging army in 1849 ; it is outside of the city wall, which is
much scarred and mutilated by their cannon balls. The first
battle between the French and the Romans, in May, 1849, was
fought in a valley at the foot of the Janiculum Hill, which lies
west and south from the main body of the city. The besieging
armies were planted on hills contiguous to the Janiculum, and
although the Romans made a brave defence, the walls were

288 Rome.
breached in many places, and quite levelled in two, at one of
which the French army entered, when a bloody battle ensued
in a narrow valley within the walls.
There is still another hill — a very high one ; it is called
Mount Maria (Monte Maria). It is on the right bank of the
Tiber, north and west of the city, and is without the walls. It
was occupied by the cannon of the besieging army, and by way
of intimidation to the people of Rome, and as a diversion from
the main design of assaulting the city on the side of the Jani
culum Hill, they threw bombs into the square where we are
residing, which fell through this very house, and in still greater
numbers in the Hotel Russe, which is very near.
There is still another hill, which is, however, hardly worthy
of being mentioned in so dignified a connection ; it is called
Monte Testaceo. It is composed entirely of broken earthen
vessels of very coarse ware. This hill is near the Aventine ; it
may be 250 to 300 feet high, and a quarter of a mile in circuit;
by my own examination, I found it to be composed of such
coarse fragments as belonged to amphorae, &c. It was raised
from the accumulations of ancient Rome, for it seems that they
were not permitted to throw such fragments into the streets.
Many wine cellars are excavated in the Monte Testaceo, a use
to which it is particularly applicable, on account of its low and
equable temperature, a quality due to the porous nature of the
material of the hill.
General View of Rome. — Having defined the principal
natural features of Rome, we may now view it as a whole.
Retaining our position on the Capitoline Hill, and casting our
eyes all around, we see a vast area inclosed by the ancient wall
— the wall of Antoninus — which, with the modern wall, includes
an area of 12 miles in circuit. Much of the ancient wall retains
its original elevation of 40 to 50 feet. Looking to the south
east and northeast, we have before us the Rome of the
Csesars ; behind us, and to the west-northwest and southwest,
is the modern city — the Rome of the Popes. Almost the whole
area of the Csesars is desolate, with a very small population,

The Arch of Septimius Severus. 289
and having only some churches, of a period since the Christian
era, and extensive ruins of Roman establishments, of baths,
palaces, and other structures.
Immediately at our feet, beginning at the very base of the
Capitol Hill, there is a magnificent display of the ruins of
ancient Rome — of the Forum and its temples — of the Trium
phal Arches — of the Palace of the Csesars, and the Coliseum.
The Roman Forum. — There has been much discussion as
to the form and extent of the Roman Forum, and as to the
use of some of the structures whose ruins are found within its
area. Sometimes the word forum was applied to market places
— forum boarium, fora venalia, as well as to places where jus
tice was administered, fora civilia. The great Roman Forum
at the foot of the Capitol, and contiguous to the Palatine Hill,
was, no doubt, intended by Romulus for the assemblies of the
people. It was adorned with an immense number of, Grecian
statues, among which were twelve gilt statues of the principal
gods. Numerous relics of its former grandeur now fill the
campo vaccino — broken porticoes, ruined arches, single columns,
and the remains of temples. To each of these belongs a story
of curious antiquarian research. Without wishing to follow the
beaten path of all travellers, it is impossible to pass these
world-renowned memorials of a goneby age without some brief
notice. The Arch of Septimius Severus stands in the Forum, on
the eastern front of the Capitol. The soil and rubbish there
accumulated was 15 feet deep, but the ground was excavated
under Napoleon, and the whole of this fine monument was thus
brought into view. It was erected a. d. 205, by the Senate and
people of Rome, in honor of the Emperor and his sons, on ac
count of their conquests of the Parthians and Persians. This
is recorded upon the monument, in an inscription which is still
perfectly legible. The monument was constructed entirely of
Grecian marble. There is a large and lofty middle arch, and
there are two lateral arches. In one of the columns is a stair
case of 50 steps, leading to the top, on which there was origi-
Vol. l— 13

290 Rome.

nally a car drawn by six horses, containing the figures of the
Emperor and of his two sons, Geta and Caracalla. Geta was
murdered by his brother, and the inscription which alluded to
both was mutilated by Caracalla, so as to leave out the name
of Geta ; this obliteration is obvious on inspection. There are
on the panels many figures in high relief, representing deeds
of war, in which the Romans so much delighted. Christian
nations cannot boast of much improvement in this particular.
Jupiter To nans. — The excavation which brought into
view the foundation of the arch of Septimius Severus is a deep
pit, in which stands a group of three beautiful Corinthian col
umns of marble, nearly in the middle of the area. Very differ
ent views have been presented by antiquarians as to their origin.
They are now attributed to a splendid temple erected to the
honor of Jupiter Tonans, by the Emperor  , who
on a journey in Spain, was spared when a stroke of lightning
killed his attendant sitting by his side. Before the French
excavations, these beautiful columns were buried in rubbish
nearly to their capitals. They are of Carrara marble, deeply
fluted, and are 4 feet 5 inches in diameter, and 50 feet high.
The frieze exhibits instruments of sacrifice — the knife, axe,
hammer, patera and the flamen's cap.
Temple of Concordia. — There is a group of eight Corin
thian columns of granite,- which are assigned to the Temple of
Concord, and still another group of three columns near at hand.
All these sustain the entablature and a part ofthe ornaments ofthe
freize. Sante, our Cicerone, whom I have already mentioned as a
very intelligent and reliable man, told us that when a boy he
had picked leaves of plants from the capital or frieze of the
group of three columns ; and of course there must have been
then 30 or 40 feet of earth and rubbish, which has been re
moved. The removal of the incumbent materials has also re
vealed the ancient Via Sacra, which passed beneath the arch of
Septimius Severus. It is in a perfect state, and is composed of
large, flat, and irregular blocks of lava, not dressed, but skilfully
joined. This road, after passing the arch, turns to the south

Remains of the Temple of Antoninus Pius. 291
up the hill ; but it is not understood how it mounted to the
Capitol, which was the terminus of the triumphal processions.
There can be no doubt, that if the earth and rubbish were all
removed, the Via Sacra would be found as perfect as when
Horace walked upon it, for the stones appear again near the
Arch of Titus, at the eastern extremity of the Forum, and the
walk passes beneath that arch also. This is the common road
now travelled through the Forum, and wheel ruts are quite
distinct in the ancient pavement.
It was easy to see, in imagination, the Roman poet travers
ing the Via Sacra, on that occasion when he sang the well-
known words commencing —
Ibam forte Via Sacra sieut meus est mos
Nescio quid meditans nugarum, totus in illis, &c. *
Three beautiful columns, ascribed to Jupiter Stator, stand
in a more advanced position in the area of the Forum, not in
the cavity which has been described, but in another. They are
in high preservation, with the entablature nearly entire.
The Column of Phocas stands in a cavity by itself. A
column was erected to the Greek Emperor Phocas a.d. 608 ;
but although this column bears his name, it has been supposed
to be much more ancient, and to belong to the period of the
Antonines. An inscription was, however, found on its base in
1813, proving it to be the column of Phocas, and recording
that a gilt statue was placed upon it to that emperor by the
Exarch Smaragdus.
Standing with the back towards the Capitoline Hill and
the Arch of Septimius Severus, and looking east, we find on
the left the remains of the Temple of Antoninus Pius, and his
wife Faustina. The modern church of S. Lorenzo in Miran
da, is immediately behind. The old Roman inscriptions were
* Lib. i. Satira ix. This raee of people, whose memory he per
petuates, is not yet extinct, and the despair of the poet is not without
examples in our times.

292 Rome.
deeply cut, and in general are perfectly legible at the present
day. On the entablature, this temple is impiously dedicated by
the Roman Senate.
The ruins of the Temple of Peace are situated on the
same side of the Forum as the Temple of Antoninus and Faus
tina, and very near to it. Although there is little remaining
except three very large arches, it is a very conspicuous ruin.
It was built by Maxentius, but was consecrated by Constantine,
after the death of his rival.
Arch of Titus. — This is the most beautiful of the Roman
arches, and was erected to commemorate the conquest of Jeru
salem by Titus. It stands at the eastern end of the Forum, and
the Via Sacra passes beneath it. It is built of Grecian marble
and has only a single arch, with fluted columns on each side.
On the side towards the Forum there is a mutilated figure of
Victory standing over the arch. The side towards the Coliseum
it the most perfect ; and nearly all the cornice and the antse are
preserved. This arch has a peculiar interest attached to it, be
cause it illustrates Scripture history. On one of the bas-
reliefs, inside of the arch, a procession are bearing the spoils
of the temple — the golden candlestick and the silver trum
pets — the only authentic representations of those sacred
objects, and perfectly corresponding with the description
given by Josephus. The seven-branched candlestick itself
was lost in the Tiber, and now reposes amidst its yellow
sands. The Capitol. — I have already remarked, that the modern
Capitol is erected upon the foundation of the ancient. The
huge blocks of peperino stone which underlie the present Capi
tol rise from the area of the Forum, far below ; and it is quite
obvious that the modern structure is superimposed. The Capi
tol Hill is the highest ground in old Rome ; and the summit of
its tower is, as already observed, higher than any other building
in Rome east of the Tiber.
We ascend to the present Capitol from the west, by a se
ries of marble steps. On the right and left, at the top of the

Museum of the Capitol. 293
stairs, are antique equestrian and colossal statues of Castor and
Pollux, mounted upon high pedestals.
In the middle of the area, in front of the Capitol, is the co
lossal equestrian statue, believed to be that of Marcus Aurelius.
It is in bronze, and is a most noble specimen of ancient art.
The emperor is truly imperial, and the horse is admirable ; it
cannot be exceeded in symmetry and grandeur. This statue,
had it not been mistaken for a statue of Constantine, would
have shared the fate of other productions of Pagan art. It was
originally gilded, and the gold is still visible upon it here and
there. The head . and neck of the horse are copied by modern
sculptors, as being the best specimens of the form of this part of
the noble animal in existence. We saw a copy in the studio of
the American sculptor, Mr. Crawford, in Rome, who was then
engaged upon his great monument to Washington, and the
other illustrious sons of Virginia.
Roman Mile Stone. — The Roman Milliarium Aureum
was discovered in the Forum a few years since. It is a marble
column, with an inscription, and indicated the place from
which the distances to all parts of the Roman empire were
reckoned. It stands now on the right as you ascend the steps
of the Capitol. There is a second and similar one on the left.
After my return to England, I saw in the British Museum the
large gilded globes of metal, fifteen or eighteen inches in diame
ter, which were formerly placed on the top of the mile stones.
Museum of the Capitol. — This museum is situated in two
wings, on the right and left of the Capitoline Hill. They do
not form a part of the same structure. It is exceedingly in
structive, as the statues are very numerous ; and we cannot
doubt that they exhibit faithfully the persons of the ancint Ro
mans, with their features and costumes. Many of the most dis
tinguished Roman emperors, poets, historians, and orators, are
represented in marble or bronze. Trajan, Caligula, Hadrian,
Nero, Nerva, Julius Csesar and his murderer Brutus, Cicero,
Virgil, Caracalla, and a multitude more. Some of the statues
are colossal. There are several parts of an immense statue of

294 Rome.
Nero, which was designed to be 150 feet high, and to rival in
altitude the Coliseum itself. In crime and infamy, he was in
deed a colossus. His countenance has a grovelling animal ex
pression, very strongly marked in a bust which we have seen
in a private museum, where, as if to correspond with the black
ness of his character, he is sculptured in basalt, or black
marble. We saw also in the Museum of the Capitol the original of
that bust of Cicero, which represents him as a large man with
a full face and round head, the very reverse of the bust formerly
said to be Cicero's, and which I saw in 1805 in the Earl of Pem
broke's palace, near Salisbury, England. That bust made
Cicero's features lean, muscular, and sharp, with a wart on the
right cheek, near the nose. Artists and antiquaries have no
doubt, I believe, of the authenticity of the bust in the Capitol,
which bears his name, and was found in a villa of Mecaenas.
An excellent copy of this bust, by our countryman, Crawford,
was presented by Professor Salisbury to the Trumbull Gallery
inWSTale College, along with copies by the same artist of the
busts of Demosthenes and Homer, the originals of which we
saw in the Capitol Museum.
In this museum are also to be seen the celebrated Venus of
the Capitol, to which a separate saloon is devoted. The Dy
ing Gladiator is in a room with other noble antique statues.
Byron has completely embalmed this figure in his memorable
description in the fifth canto of Childe Harold's pilgrimage. It
is probable that the artist himself, could he have read the pas
sage, would have confessed that it expressed his sentiment even
more perfectly than the marble. Any one who has traversed
Italy with Byron in his hand, will readily appreciate not only the
wonderful fidelity of his descriptions, but that all other language
seems poverty-stricken and unmeaning when compared with
the masterly touches by which he has painted the various mon
uments of antiquity which adorn his pictured page. For ex
ample, besides the passage just alluded to, we have his tomb of

Statues in Rome. 295
Cecilia Metella, the Thunder-stricken Nurse of Rome ! the Coli
seum, the Pantheon, and St. Peter's, &c.
The original bronze wolf, representing the early nursing of
Romulus and Remus, is in the Capitol Museum. The little
urchins, also in bronze, are eagerly drawing from the savage
wet nurse the means of life. This fable affords not an un
apt symbol of the ferocious disposition of Romulus, who slew his
brother, and of most of the Roman people, of whatever rank,
to whom human blood seems to have been a delightful nectar.
There has been much discussion as to the antiquity of this
wolf. It appears probable that this is the image referred to
by Cicero ; and it bears marks of having been struck by light
ning, according to tradition. There is a large piece of metal
torn out of one of the hind legs of the wolf, and this is stated
by tradition to have happened from a thunder-stroke, to which,
of course, Byron alludes in his immortal lines, which fell upon
the wolf the moment when it was announced in the Capitol
that Julius Caesar was dead.
Statues in Rome. — If we may rely upon the authenticity
of the statues of Julius Caesar, the form and features are in full
keeping with what we might imagine of this great man. His
figure, in full martial costume, is dignified and of fine mould,
and his countenance is intellectual and elevated.
The statues of several Roman women, wives of celebrated
men, are beautiful. In general, they are fully draped, and
often the robe is so light and transparent, and flows so grace
fully around them, as to exhibit perfectly their form. Canova
has approached this airy lightness of drapery, in his celebrated
statues of the dancing girls.
That part of such collections which is less pleasing to me
than any other, is the monstrous creations of mythology.
We have Pan, and Fauns, and Centaurs, and Hydras, and
Griffins, and Sphinxes, and other monstrosities, which, whether
in sculpture or painting, were much better consigned to ob
livion. After lingering among the statues and busts of ancient Ro-

296 Rome.
mans — both men and women — in the collections and museums,
public and private, I almost feel as if I had known the indi
viduals, and the features of several are so familiar from repeti
tion, that I meet them like old acquaintances.
Considerino- the vast number of statues now in Rome, and
reflecting that doubtless a host of them lie buried beneath the
surface, probably more than are now visible, we might almost
imagine that they would people a city. Thousands have risen
from these places of temporary sepulture. The taste for statuary
still flourishes in full vigor in Rome. We have visited several
studios, and find beautiful things, the productions of living
sculptors of all nations.
Skill in Working Hard Stones. — Marble is a material
which readily yields to the chisel of the artist, and perseverance,
taste, skill and judgment, will certainly educe the desired form ;
but I am amazed to see what magnificent works have been pro
duced in porphyry and granite — wrought out with astonishing
beauty, exhibiting the greatest delicacy of form, and polished
to perfection. I am aware that modern skill masters the hardness of such
stones, but I am not aware of any modern productions of this
nature, that are equal at once, in magnitude and in the perfec
tion of the work, to those of the ancients.
Statues remain, while pictures are destroyed ; they may in
deed be mutilated, but hosts of them exist intact ; they rise unin
jured, from the sepulchres of Pompeii and Herculaneum, but pic
tures, unless frescoes, perish. Not a single easel picture, of ancient
Greece or Rome, survives. Painful, indeed, it must be, to the
artists of the easel and pencil, to be assured that no production of
their talent and skill can possibly survive to a distant posterity.
safe from the war of the elements, and the wars of man ; while
in the sister arts, the triumphs of the chisel and the furnace
may live beyond even all written history, and serve to revive
and illustrate its forgotten truths.
Ancient Map. — One of the most interesting memorials of
ancient Rome, in the Capitol Museum, is a marble pavement,

The Coliseum. 297
found in the temple of Remus, in the Forum. It is in slabs
more than two feet square, which contain maps and plans of
the early city, cut into the stone. The streets and squares are
laid down, and the principal public buildings.
These plates of marble are set into the side walls, in the
staircase leading up to the museum. They have proved highly
useful in the study of Roman antiquities. There is also a large
bronze table, containing engraved decrees of the Roman Senate.
There are, in this museum, many Sarcophagi, covered
with figures in relief. One is of amazing size, in which was
discovered the Portland Vase, now in the British Musem. It
was found in a tumulus, on the road to Frascati, three miles
frftn the gate of St. Giovanni. There are 40 figures upon this
Sarcophagus, in alto-relievo, representing the history of Achilles,
and the principal front exhibits his quarrel with Agamemnon.
The figures are very prominent, and are continued on the other
sides. Upon the lid of the Sarcophagus, repose two figures,
the size of life.
The Tarpeian Rook. — This noted precipice is very near
to the Capitol. We reached it by going through a garden, in
an obscure place occupied by some poor houses. It was named
after Tarpeia, the daughter of Tarpeius, the governor of the cita
del of Rome, whose history is known to all mythological
readers. Although the ground is accumulated at the bottom of the
Tarpeian Rock, to the depth of 20 feet, it is still a precipice of
some thirty or forty feet.
Not only common malefactors, but sometimes distinguished
victims, were thrown from this rock. Marcus Manlius, whc
saved the Capitol from the Gauls, shared this fate. Becoming
ambitious of the sovereignty, he was condemned on the accu
sation of the tribunes of the people.
The Coliseum is the most magnificent and imposing mon
ument of ancient Rome. After all the spoliation which it has
suffered, during many centuries, two-thirds of its materials
having been plundered, to build palaces and other structures, it
Vol. l— 13*

298 Rome.
still stands a stupendous ruin, solemn, awful, and even in deso
lation beautiful. Its position is very near to the Forum, and
we pass to it through the Arch of Titus. We felicitate ourselves
that we saw the almost perfect amphitheatre at Nismes, as from
that, and even from the less perfect one at Aries, we obtained
those strong and correct impressions, which have enabled us
more justly to appreciate the gigantic ruin, which still towers
in venerable majesty, above both the Rome of the Caesars, and
the Rome of the Popes.
The Coliseum was begun a. d. 73, by Vespasian, and finished
by Titus, a. d. 80, ten years after the conquest of Jerusalem.
Church tradition states that its architect was Gaudentius, a
Christian martyr, and that many thousand* captive Jews Ad
Christians, were employed in its construction. It is built chiefly of
travertine, although there are large quantities of bricks and tufa
in the structure. Its form is elliptical ; there are four stories
adorned by columns ; the lower is Doric, 30 feet high — the
second is Ionic, 33 feet high — the third, Corinthian, 54 feet, and
above this, was the frieze and cornice. The height of the outer
wall was 157 English feet. The longer axis, walls included,
was 620 feet; the shorter, 513; circumference 1770 feet;
the length of the arena, 287 feet; breadth, 180 feet. The
superficial area was nearly six acres. The arches were num
bered, externally, from 1 to 80. One arch is not numbered,
and this is believed to have been the private entrance of the
emperor. There were, within the amphitheatre, four groups of seats,
corresponding, as at Nismes, to the different orders of people.
The seats could receive 87,000 persons, or 110,000, including
those who stood. The interior has been very much despoiled,
and the seats are almost ruined ; but a staircase has been con
structed, by which we ascended securely to the top of the build
ing, and enjoyed a grand view, not only by day, but by a full
moon. Byron's splendid description in Manfred, does it no
more than justice. * 12,000, according to traditioa

The Pantheon. 299
The building is much deformed, by innumerable holes on
the outside, believed to have been produced by the extraction
of the dowels of- bronze, which were originally placed in the
joints to keep the stones in place.
At the dedication of the amphitheatre by Titus, 5000, or
according to some, 9000 wild beasts were slaughtered, and the
savage exhibition went on during 100 days. On the occasion
of the triumph of Trajan over the Dacians, the shows were
continued 123 days; 11,000 animals were slain, and 1000
gladiators matched against each other. Besides malefactors,,
captives and slaves, free-born citizens, even those of noble birth,
hired themselves as gladiators — and women volunteered on
the arena, to exhibit their skill in murder.
The barbarous gladiatorial games were continued during
400 years ; the last show of the wild beasts was under Theo-
doric,* and these brutal entertainments were abolished by
Honorius. During the persecutions of the Christians, the arena was
often wet with the blood of the martyrs. In the reign of Trajan,
Ignatius was brought from Antioch, on purpose to be devoured
by the wild beasts, and the traditions of the church are filled
with the names of martyrs, who perished on the arena.
The Pantheon is the most perfect, as a whole, of all the
structures which have come down to us from ancient Rome.
The invasion of time alone would not have injured it materially,
and, notwithstanding the spoliations of Popes and other depre
dators, it still remains a grand and beautiful building. It stands
in a dirty disagreeable herb market, and the accumulations of
earth and rubbish have almost entirely covered its lofty steps,
which were seven in number, until its floor is now nearly on a
level with the street.
Its dome was covered with gilt bronze, and its portico fined
with the same metal, which was plundered to be cast for the
pillars and other parts of the baldacchino in St. Peter's.
* A show of wild beasts and a bull-fight, were exhibited at the
expense of the Roman nobles in 1332.

300 Rome.
On this occasion 450,000 pounds were taken. The Empe
ror Constans II. had previously, in 657, stripped the roof, and
plundered the silver from the interior of the dome. He des
tined these things for the ornament of his imperial palace at Con
stantinople ; but being murdered at Syracuse, on his return,
the plunder was borne to Alexandria. It was, originally, the
spoils of Egypt after the battle of Actium, and now returned
to Egypt again.
The external facings of polished marble, have also been torn
•off — but although thus despoiled, the Pantheon is still magnifi
cent, notwithstanding that the fires have often heated it, the
overflowing Tiber has deluged its floor, and the rains have
poured in at the only opening, which is in the dome. This is
a circular hole in the centre of the dome, 28 feet in diameter,
and is said to have been once glazed. The rich marble facings
and magnificent columns of the interior, still remain.
The beautiful columns are of polished granite and porphyry.
The niches, originally filled by the statues of the Pagan gods,
have not been disturbed ; but they are now occupied by saints,
and virgins, and other symbols of Catholic worship. The interior
is one vast room, 143 feet in diameter, exclusive of the walls,
which are 20 feet thick, and it is of the same height, 143 feet
— the dome occupies one-half of the height. It is not unaptly
illustrated by the Rotunda of the Capitol at Washington,*
which, although smaller, is of the same form. When in the Ro
man Pantheon, you look up to its sky -lighted dome, there is an
impression of simple grandeur, which even St. Peter's does not
produce : "Simple, erect, severe, austere, sublime —
Shrine of all saints, and temple of all gods.''
An inscription on the frieze records that the Pantheon was
erected by Agrippa, b. c. Anno 26 :
M. Agrippa L. F. Cos tertium fecit.
* Ninety-six feet in diameter, find ninety-six feet high.

The Pantheon. 301
Another inscription on the architrave records the subsequent
restoration ofthe temple by Septimius Severus. In 608, Boni
face obtained from the emperor Phocas permission to conse
crate the Pantheon as a Christian church, which, doubtless,
saved it from destruction. How much is it to be regretted that
a similar protection had not saved the Coliseum and other pre
cious works, whose ruins bear testimony to the misdirected
zeal ofthe Christian church in early ages. The portico is 110
feet long and 44 deep. It contains 16 Corinthian monolithic
columns of Oriental granite, 46£ feet high and 5 feet diameter,
with capitals and bases of Greek marble. The pediment still
shows where the figures in bas-relief were attached.
The magnificent bronze doors are 39 feet high, and the
entire opening is 19 wide. It is believed that they are the ori
ginal doors erected by Agrippa. No doubt they would have
been used for the decoration of St. Peter's had not the Pantheon
been consecrated as a church.
The interior cornice at the bottom of the dome has been
perfectly preserved, with its rich sculptures. The pavement of
the Pantheon is of porphyry, alternating with other polished
stones in geometric figures. Some antiquarians have argued
that the Pantheon was originally an appendage of the Baths of
Agrippa, and that the portico was of subsequent construction,
when the building was converted into a temple. However this
may be, it is one of the most interesting structures of ancient
or modern times ; and had it not been most shamefully robbed
it would have stood to-day perfect in beauty as it was when
Christ died, and when Paul preached and suffered in Rome.
We bent with deep interest over the grave of Raphael,
whose remains still slumber beneath the pavement of the Pan
theon, marked only by a humble slab of marble level with the
floor. It is well known that until 1833 his place of interment
was only matter of conjecture ; in that year, owing to unex
pected evidence, the present grave was opened in presence of
the Pope and numerous artists. The skull was of a singularly
fine form ; and its discovery spoiled the speculations of the phre-

302 Rome.
nologists on another skull in the Academy of St. Luke, which
had previously been supposed to be that of the great painter.
The Temple of Vesta stands near the Rotto Bridge over the
Tiber, and close at hand are the small temple of Fortuna Virilis
and the House of Rienzi " last of tribunes." The Temple of Vesta
has twenty Corinthian columns, thirty-two feet high and three
feet in diameter ; but its fine cornice and bronze roof are replaced
by a wretched thatch of slates. This is not the Temple of
Vesta in which the Palladium was preserved, whose site, un
doubtedly, was in the Roman Forum, although it is of unknown,
being of very high antiquity.
Tomb of Cecilia Metella. — We have visited the tombs
on the Appian Way ; but I shall now mention only those of
Cecilia Metella and of Caius Cestus. The tomb of Cecilia
Metella is well known every where, as no monument of anti
quity is more frequently engraved or reproduced in models.
From its size and elevated position, it is one of the most com
manding objects in the vicinity of Rome. It is two miles beyond
the walls on the Appian Way, quite in the country, but is dis
tinctly seen from the Capitoline Hill. It stands on the broad
stream of lava which is believed to have flowed anciently from
Albano or its vicinity. We examined this lava in several
places where it is quarried, and it can hardly be distinguished
from trap. This tomb is nineteen centuries old, and was erected
by Crassus to the memory of his wife, the daughter of Quintus
Metellus, conqueror of Crete, b. c. 66. The tomb is a circular
tower, seventy feet in diameter, and about fifty feet high. It
stands upon a square basis, now hid in the soil. It is con
structed of very large blocks of the finest travertine, accurately
fitted to each other, without cement. The stones being grooved
vertically, each large block appears as if it were composed of
three or four pieces. The cornice and frieze are beautifully de
corated with bulls' heads, and festoons. Hence it is sometimes
called " Capo di Bove."
The inscription on a panel below the frieze is Cecilm: Q,
Cretici. F, Metall^e. Crassi. The tomb appears to have been

Pyramid of Caius Cestus. 303
originally covered by a circular conical roof, which was removed
by Boniface VIII. of the family of Gaetani, in the 13th century,
aud battlements were substituted, to convert it into a fortress.
There are extensive ruined fortresses of the same family still
existing on both sides of the road, and a subterranean commu
nication with their family tombs was found, some years ago,
beneath the Appian Way, which is here remarkably perfect.
The tomb of Cecilia Metella has been robbed of vast masses of
travertine to be burned into lime ; and Pope Urban VIII., of
the Gaetani family, removed many blocks to build the Fountain
of Trevi, in Rome. The walls were 25 feet thick, and the in
terior room was only 15 feet in diameter. We entered this
desolate tomb, which has long since been robbed of every val
uable article.
Alas ! what does it signify, for this magnificent structure is ,
now an empty cenotaph ! The sarcophagus of white marble is
in the court of the Farnese Palace at Rome ; and the funeral
urn containing the ashes of the once idolized Metella is in the
Palace of Hampton Court in England !
" Thus much alone we know — Metella died,
The wealthiest Roman's wife. Behold his love or pride.''
Childe Harold.
Pyramid of Caius Cestus. May 14. — In our visit to this
pyramid we met with the only instance of rudeness which we
experienced in Rome, and probably this arose from excess of
military observance. As we were approaching the monument,
we were vociferously challenged by a sentinel, a soldier of the
Pope, and with the menace of bayonet and musket we were
forbidden to trespass on the premises. Such petty domination
is about all that is allowed to the soldiers of Pius IX. ; every
important military arrangement in Rome is regulated by the
French, whose troops are every where. Only a few soldiers of
the Pope are seen, a mere mockery of national independence.
Our guide was in no degree intimidated, and being bent on
securing his fee, as the regular custode of the tomb, he per-

304 Rome.
sisted, despite of threats, and let us into the pyramid. It is the
only one in Rome, and was no doubt an attempt to imitate
Egyptian grandeur and perpetuity. This monument, like
every thing else in ancient Rome, has been much diminished'
in apparent height, by accumulations of earth and rubbish
around its base. In 1663 it was cleared by Alex. VII., when
16 feet of earth were removed. The pyramid seems to be
rising out of the ground, as it is surrounded in part by a deep
fosse, at the bottom of which the old Roman road was dis
covered. We observed in it the deep channels worn by the
long-continued passage of the wheels. This sepulchral pyramid
is referred to the Augustan age. It is 125 feet high, and its
diameter at the base is 100 feet, standing upon a square foun
dation of travertine 3 feet thick. It is constructed of brick and
tufa, but is incrusted by a plating of Carrara marble, now quite
blackened by time. The walls are nearly 25 feet thick, and in
the centre is a small chamber 17£ Roman feet, by 13 or 14
high. This chamber was discovered by a gallery perforated
through the massive walls on a level with the former surface
of the ground. When the entrance was effected, they found
the long secluded sarcophagus, which is now deposited in the
museum of the Capitol. On examining critically this internal
room, they discovered steps ascending, perhaps, one-third of the
way to the top of the pyramid, where a slab of marble con
cealed the opening. Through this aperture the funeral urn
was conveyed, with its ashes, for preservation in the sarcopha
gus, which, from its size, must have been introduced during
the construction of the pyramid. The walls of this chamber
offered the earliest specimens of frescoes discovered in Rome
before those of Pompeii and Herculaneum were laid open.
English Cemetery. — We wandered a while in this inter
esting place, where many English and other strangers have
found their last home. There are many touching monuments —
among others, those of the poets Shelley and Keats, the
anatomist John Bell, and Wyatt the sculptor. The ground is
immediately contiguous to the city wall, and to the monument

Column of Antonine. 805
of Caius Cestus. This cemetery is kept in good order, is beau
tified by roses and shrubbery, and is in harmony with the or
derly and serious character of the English people.
Column of Antonine. — This grand column is one of the
most conspicuous monuments of ancient Rome. It is near the
present Post-office, in a busy, populous square — the Piazza
Colonna — in the midst of the modern city.
The height of the Column of Antonine is 168 feet, diameter
11J ; the pedestal is 25 feet 8 inches high. It was erected
by the Senate and people of Rome to Marcus Aurelius Anto
ninus a.d. 174. Bas-reliefs, as in Trajan's column, run spirally
around the monument, representing military movements and
victories. One of the reliefs represents Jupiter as dropping
rain from his extended arms. This has been supposed to al
lude to the effect attributed to the prayers of the Christian
legion from Mytilene, in the army of the Emperor, who, at his
request, prayed for rain when there was a great drought. The
column is composed of pieces of white marble, and in the
interior are 190 steps lighted by 42 loopholes. By a strange
incongruity, a statue of St. Paul, 10 feet high, has been made
to replace the Emperor on the top of the column. This was
done by Sixtus V. It is said that the drawn sword which the
Apostle holds in his hand proves a conductor to the lightning,
and that the column has been several times injured.
The Column and Forum of Trajan. — This majestic and
beautiful column stands in an excavated area 10 or 12 feet be
low the present upper surface. Built of travertine, it rises to-
the height of 132 feet, exclusive of the statue. Near the top
there is a gallery, to which there is an ascent by 184 steps.
The column is surmounted by a statue of St. Peter, also pro
vided with a drawn sword.
This column, like that of Antonine, is surrounded by a
spiral entablature, illustrative of the history and martial deeds
of Trajan. The figures are distinct, and are enlarged as they
ascend. A considerable area has been excavated around the
column of Trajan, as low as its foundation, and a large number

306 Rome.
of polished columns of gray granite have been brought to
light. They are all broken, but have been replaced upon their
ancient pedestals, forming two double rows. They were 55
feet high, and the arrangement of columns was the same on
both sides of the monument ; they were parallel throughout,
and were covered by a brazen roof, resting on brazen beams, so
as to give protection against the weather. This forum was
adorned with statues and chariots of brass, all gilt. The pave
ment was of variegated marble ; and there was a temple at one
end, and a triumphal arch at the other. It also possessed an
extensive library.
In the centre rose the column where it now stands. It was
crowned by a colossal statue of Trajan. The arch, as has been
already mentioned, was dismantled by Constantine, to obtain
ornaments for his own triumphal arch. Trajan's was the most
splendid of all the forums, and was in existence at the time of
the Great Gregory, about 850 years ago.
Castle of St. Angelo. — This vast round tower stands on
the west bank of the Tiber, just by the old Roman bridge, the
Elian. It was built by the Emperor Hadrian, about a.d. 130,
for his mausoleum, but was converted into a fortress as early
as 423. Hadrian died at Baiae, and was buried here, as were
Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, Commodus, Septimius Sev
erus, Geta, and Caracalla, between 161 and 217.
The Castle is 188 feet in diameter, and it rises far above
the city walls. It was built of peperino, and faced with
Parian marble, held in place without cement. Numerous sta
tues adorned its summit, which, during the siege of the Goths,
were torn from their pedestals and thrown down upon the be
siegers. Its history, during a thousand years, is intimately connected
with the wars of Rome. We saw only one sarcophagus — it
was in full view ; other sarcophagi may be seen by exploring
below with torches. This Castle has afforded many interesting
objects of antiquity. The large granite sarcophagus, and the

Castle of St. Angelo. 307
bust of Hadrian in the Vatican, were found here, and also the
porphyry urn in the Lateran Church.
The Castle is at present occupied by the French troops, and
it is not possible to obtain admission without a written permit
from the Governor. This was procured by the efficient influ
ence of Mr. Cass. Arriving at the gate, our paper was sent
in by a sentinel, while we waited with the soldiers without.
After considerable delay, a French Colonel made his appear
ance, a tall, powerful man, with firm and rather austere fea
tures, and when he waved his hand in token of admission,
he did it with a lofty, military dignity. The most interesting
object is the view from the summit of the Castle. All Rome,
ancient and modern, was at our feet ; the flowing Tiber, and the
venerable bridge, with its double file of statues standing as
sentinels — St. Peter's, and its magnificent colonnades — the Vati
can and its gardens, and the hills of the Janiculum — St. Mario
and the Borgo were just at hand ; the distant Alban mountains
on the south, and Soracte on the north. In the parade ground
adjoining the Castle, we saw a powerful train of field artillery, '
ready to be turned upon the Romans, should there be any
movement in favor of popular liberty. There is a large room
in the attic, which, from its present appearance, was once fres
coed, as were some of the passages. In the upper rooms,
French soldiers not on duty were busily engaged in fencing ;
and all about the Castle, and leaning over the battlements, were
idle men, listlessly gazing at the moving panorama of Rome.
The name of St. Angelo, the holy angel, was given to this
Castle, in consequence of a reported appearance of the Arch
angel upon the tower, A. d. 589, to stay the progress of the
plague ; and his more than colossal bronze statue, black as an
angel of darkness, is a conspicuous object over a large part of
Rome. The Castle of St. Angelo has been for many centuries
the strong military post of the Popes, into which, in times of
peril, they might retreat from the Vatican, through a covered
way one-third of a mile long, the greater part of which is

308 Rome.

standing now, but the republicans breached it in 1849, so that
it no longer affords a safe asylum.

Among the 300 churches of Rome there are many that de
serve to be mentioned. We have been able to visit but a few,
and of these only a part can be named. This is of the less
importance since there is a great similarity in their structure and
decorations. St. Maria Maggiore. — In dignity this Basilica ranks the
third. In magnificence, it is little inferior to St. Peter's. The
nave is 280 feet by fifty. The flat ceiling, elaborately carved,
and divided into five rows of panels, is gilded with the first
gold obtained from Peru, which was presented by Ferdinand
and Isabella of Spain. Two of the chapels are surpassingly
rich in every costly and beautiful embellishment. This church
was founded in 352 on the summit of the Esquiline, and is 1500
years old. One of the most magnificent chapels is that of the
Borghese family. All the splendor that can be derived from
polished stones of the most beautiful colors and exquisite finish,
is here exhibited. The altar of the Virgin has four fluted
columns of Oriental jasper, and a painting of the Madonna,
said, in a papal bull, to be a miraculous picture by St. Luke.
On the altar is a bronze bas-relief, representing a miraculous
fall of snow in summer, which indicated to the Pope the place
where the church was to be built. In this chapel are several
tombs of eminent men, and among them that of Paul V., the
founder of the chapel.
The Chapel of Sixtus V. is also so rich and beautiful that
when Sixtus, then a cardinal, was building it, the Pope, Gregory
XIII., suspended his allowance, upon the ground that he must
be a rich man to incur such an expense ; but his architect,
Fontana, loaned him all his own savings, and the work went
on. The tomb of Sixtus V. is in this chapel. There are also

St. John Lateran. 309
in this church Mosaics, in compartments, representing historical
scenes in the Old Testament, which are believed to be more
than 1000 years old. In this Basilica, in the course of the
year, the Pope performs high mass several times, in honor of
the Pentecost, the Assumption, and the Nativity ; and on Christ
mas evening, the cradle of the infant Saviour, called Presepio,
is carried in procession.
St. John Lateran is a very venerable old church whose
architecture is solemn, grand, and impressive. It is rendered
still more interesting on account of the historical associations
connected with it. The Lateran claims to be the first of Chris
tian churches ; and upon its front is inscribed, omnium urbis
et orbis ecclesiarum mater et caput. Its name is derived
from that of the Senator Plautius Lateranus, on the site of
whose house this church was erected. Constantine was the
founder ; and he, with his own hands, assisted in digging the
foundations. The Chapter of the Lateran still takes precedence
over that of St. Peter's. Every new Pope takes possession of
the Lateran Palace ; and the coronation is invariably celebrated
in this church. Five general councils (Lateran councils) have
been held here ; — the first in 1123, the last in 1515. This church
is one of four that has uporta, santa, that is, a door walled up, and
to be opened only on certain occasions. The early Lateran church
was nearly destroyed by fire under Clement V. ; and in suc
ceeding periods it received so many additions and modifications
that very little of the original building remains. The faqade
was built of travertine in the last century ; and upon the balus
trade are placed colossal statues of our Saviour and saints,
which have a striking appearance as you approach the church.
The grandeur of the front is diminished by its being broken
up into ornaments and details. There are five balconies, from
the middle one of which the Pope pronounces his benediction
on Ascension Day. In the vestibule there is a marble statue of
Constantine found in the Quirinal. The interior has five naves,
divided by four rows of pillars, and in the niches are colossal
statues of the Apostles.

310 Rome.
The two most magnificent chapels of this church, are the
Corsini, built by Clement XII., in 1729 — in the form of a Greek
Cross, and the splendid chapel belonging to the rich banker,
Torlonia. It can hardly be deemed uncharitable, to regard these magnifi
cent displays of private wealth and taste, so common in Italian
churches, as only one form of human weakness and vanity, seek
ing, under the sacred precincts of the Church, that security and
endurance, which the fury of popular revolutions has rendered
impossible elsewhere. Certainly, one sees in them little of the
severe and chastened simplicity of Him, whose kingdom is not
of this world. This sentiment is, perhaps, tinged by another,
more human, when, as in one of the cases quoted above, this '
pompous display is not the exponent of a name radiant with
high deeds, in Church or State, nor even of one long known as
the possessor of vast estates and a ducal title.
The four bronze-gilt columns, connected with the splendid
altar of the S.S. Sacramento in the transept, are reported, by-
tradition, to have been formed from rostra of the vessels cap
tured at Actium by Augustus, and to have originally belonged
to the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. The Baptismal Font in
the Baptistery, is a basaltic vase, so large that it may have ad
mitted of immersion ; it has ever been held sacred, as that in
which Constantine received the rite of Baptism. It was dese
crated, in the opinion of the people, by being used as a bath,
by Rienzi, the usurping tribune, the night before he was crowned
in the Basilica of the Lateran.
They here showed several relics of the time of our Saviour.
Among them, the table at which the last Supper was eaten,
the curb of the well at which Christ met the woman of Sa
maria, and one 'of the pillars of the temple of Jerusalem, which
was rent in twain at the crucifixion.
The Lateran Palace and Museum. — This»was the palace
of the Popes for 1000 years, from the time of Constantine to
the return of the Pope from Avignon in 1377, when Gregory
XI. transferred the papal residence to the Vatican. The pal-

St. Peter's. 311
ace, after being burned and rebuilt, was converted into a hospital
in 1693, and in 1743 it was devoted to the purposes of a
museum by Gregory XVI. We took a hasty view of this col
lection, which is chiefly the overflow of that of the Capitol, and
of the Vatican.

St. Jitter's.
How shall I attempt to describe the largest and most
splendid temple ever constructed ! The well known prints of
St. Peter's, and its appendages, convey a correct idea of the ex
ternal appearance and arrangement, but do not enable us to
form any adequate conception of the interior. As you enter
its vast paved court, your eye is arrested by the high Egyptian
Obelisk, which was reared in this place by Michael Angelo, and
by the two fountains, whose copious and splendid jets d'eau
being projected 30 feet into the air, fall in the sunbeams like
•garlands of brilliants.
The facade and portico of St. Peter's, have been severely
criticised on several accounts, especially because they intercept
the view of the dome. These criticisms we leave to the archi
tects. The facade is of travertine, 368 feet long, and 145 feet
high. The first impression, on entering St. Peter's, is that of dis
appointment, as regards its magnitude. Unlike the Pantheon,
whose magnificent dome, one grand concave, the eye perceives
and the mind appreciates at a glance, St. Peter's is divided by
so many tiers of columns, so many side chapels, so many arches
and minor domes, that it is only by frequent contemplation of
its parts, and their relation to the whole, that we at length, ob
tain a conviction — more permanent, indeed, for having been pio- j
duced step by step — that St. Peter's within, really fills the
capacity of St. Peter's without.
The interior is beyond description, rich and magnificent.
It is said to have cost 50,000,000 of dollars. The circumfer-

312 Rome.
ence of each of the four great pillars which support the dome, is
234 feet. The diameter of the dome is 195 feet, the height of
the dome to the lantern, is 405 feet, to the top of the cross, is
434 feet*
The floor is composed entirely of marble of various colors,
and disposed in ornamental forms ; indeed the whole interior
of the church, the columns and pilasters excepted, is faced with
the most beautiful marble, highly polished ; while numerous
medallions, exquisite monuments, and splendid Mosaic copies of
the best pictures adorn the interior, and form an integral part of
its walls. The roof or ceiling, is stuccoed in sunken squares or
panels, richly gilt. There is no part which is not sumptuously
decorated. It seems as if ingenuity, art, taste, talent, and skill,
all the resources of wealth, and of nature herself, through all
her vast storehouse of materials, had been laid under contribu
tion, to make St. Peter's the most glorious of the structures
reared by man. With a pure faith, it is a temple worthy of
the God who created all the materials with which it is built,
and who furnished man with all the faculties, which have en
abled him to rear and adorn this unrivalled structure, a fit
abode, like the glorious fane of Jerusalem, for the habitation of
the spiritual influence of Jehovah.
Here are interred the remains of many eminent persons.
We carefully observed the Sarcophagus for Junius Bassus, pre
fect of Rome, who died a. d. 359 ; it is a very interesting monu
ment of a Christian man, and contains many reliefs, illustrating
Christian subjects; this Sarcophagus was made at Constantino
ple. Among the tombs of the Popes, is one for Adrian IV.,
(Nicholas Breakspeare), the only English Pope that ever occu
pied the Papalchair ; he died in 1159. The last representatives
of the house of Stewart, are here interred. In the inscriptions,
they are styled James III., Charles III. and Henry IX., kings
of England. In another part of the church, is a monument to
their memory, on which we read the following inscription :
* See Appendix to Vol. II.

St. Peter's. 313
Jaoobo III.
Jacobi II., Magn^e Bkit. Regis Fmo,
Caeolo Edvaedo
Et Heneico, Decano Pateum
CaEDINALIUM,
Jacobi III. Fiuis,
Riogle Stikpis Stvakdle Posteemis
Anno MDCCCXIX.,
Beati Moetui qui ra Domino Moeiuntue.

Political feeling dies away when we are among the monu
ments of the dead, whose misfortunes lead us to unite in the
benevolent wish — Requiescant in Pace.
St. Peter's was 176 years in building. Indeed, including all
its vicissitudes, the period was 350 years, under 43 popes. It
was finally dedicated by Urban VIII., November 18, 1626.
The dome is double — a dome within a dome — and we
ascend between the two. The bronze doors of the present St.
Peter's are the same that were upon the old church. The term
Basilica is applied to seven Roman churches. This word is de
rived from the ancient Romans, many of whose structures, for
the administration of justice (called Basilicas), were converted
into places of Christian worship, and the old name was continued
regardless of the new use. Within the walls of Rome are St.
Peter's, St. John Lateran, Santa Maria Maggiore, and Santa
Croce in Gerusalemme ; beyond the walls are San Paolo, San
Lorenzo, and San Sabastiano.
We were too late in Rome to witness the grand ceremo
nials of the holy week.
It has been remarked, that the vases for holding holy water
serve to give an idea of the immensity of the building. They
are supported by cherubs, which, on first entering the church,
appear like children, but on approaching them they are found
to be six feet high. Another illustration is derived from the
Mosaic figures of the four Evangelists, with their emblems over
the arches. The pen in the hand of St. Marc is six feet long.
Upon the frieze running round the basis of the dome is this in-
Vol. 1.— 14

314 Rome.
scription, each letter of which is six feet long, and yet the writ
ing is only conveniently legible below : Tv es petrvs et svper
HANC PETRAM AEDIFICABO EOCLESIAM MEAM ET TIBI DABO
CLAVES REGNI.
The ascent to the dome is at such an elevation that horses
might take up their load without difficulty. On the walls of
the staircase we read the names of the sovereigns of Europe who
have made the ascent. During the siege of Rome by the
French in 1849, St. Peter's was hit in eighty places by cannon
balls. A dozen large holes were knocked in the roof, and nine
teen balls were picked up by the attendants.
Nothing of modern art in Rome, and especially in St. Pe
ter's, creates so much surprise in the mind of a stranger as the
exuberant display of Mosaics.
We have visited the shops of the Vatican, and also of some
of the most celebrated private Mosaic artists, and have seen them
at their work. Like the Gobelin tapestry in Paris, the Mosaic of
Rome is mysterious. We see, indeed, the wonderful result, we
see also the materials as yet uncombined, and we see the artist lift
the infinitesimal portions of colored glass, and place them side by
side with their fellows, and still we are as far as ever from compre
hending how his eye measures the shades, how his hand selects
with precision the exact color which will answer his pm-pose,
and how his mind can conceive of the picture in its new crea
tion, and fix it there in beautiful perfection.
The pillars in St. Peter's are very numerous ; they are usu
ally monoliths, and frequently of great length and large diame
ter. They are of the most beautiful marbles, of Oriental and
other varieties of granite, of porphyry and jasper, all exquisitely
polished. Some are of bronze ; such are those of the grand
central altar, called the Baldacchino. These were made from
the bronze torn from the roof of the Pantheon. They are of a
twisted form, and of great height. The Duke of Torlonia, our
banker, told us, as already mentioned, that there are 6000
ancient columns in Rome, and ancient statues without nuin

St. Peter's. 315
ber. The columns have been taken from old Roman build
ings ; and not a few of the statues have been disinterred from
the ruins and rubbish of the city.
The Grotto Vaticane — Subterranean Chapel. — Oui
ladies did not go with us into this mysterious region, as women
are excluded, except by permission from a cardinal. They
may however go on Whitsunday, but only four at a time. To
this secret chapel we were conducted by the same young man
who had previously exhibited to us the finger of St. Peter, so
religiously preserved in its golden case, among other relics
equally authentic and precious. The present Church of St.
Peter's stands upon the site of the ancient church of the same
name — over that portion which has been preserved. The tombs
of the martyrs are beneath, and the floor, as it has never been
disturbed, is the same that was there when they were interred.
The accredited tomb of St. Peter is immediately below the
altar. On another occasion, on the Janiculum Hill, in company
with an American artist, I was shown the place of his crucifixion.
He is ususually represented as being crucified with his head
down, which tradition says was his choice, because he had denied
his Lord. There is a small temple built over the supposed
place of his execution, a lamp, perpetually burning, is maintained
there, and a monk is set to watch the sacred flame. While
we were looking on, the lamp went out, and my companion, ad
dressing the monk, exclaimed, "There, see, you have lost the
sacred fire." The monk laughed heartily, while he proceeded
to light again the extinguished lamp ; and we concluded that
he, at least, had little reverence for the mysteries of the place.
With more devoted vigilance, they maintain a great number
of lamps burning day and night under the Baldacchino, and
surrounding the tomb of St. Peter. On the ground where St.
Peter's now stands it is believed that many martyrs were sacri
ficed ; and many saints are reported to be buried here. There
are also several tombs of Popes. The place in which we
now were, formed a large circuit, clean, decent, dark, and solemn,
especially as it is seen only by lamp-light It is a venerable

316 Rome.

necropolis of the ancient dead ; where all narrow prejudices
die away, and we feel that if it is not holy ground, it is still
truly venerable, being clothed in the funeral robes of past
Christian centuries, whose history and sufferings are the com
mon property of the Christian world.

The Vatican is situated very near to St. Peter's. It contains
the richest collections of antiquities and things illustrative of
man's history and his powers, and what he has done and suf
fered, that the world affords.
It is not the external splendor of the buildings that makes
it remarkable. They consist of a number of hollow squares,
built in different ages, without a common plan ; and there is
nothing particularly grand in their appearance, except simply
their extent. Collectively, they include a range of galleries
and apartments, which, in a right line, would reach several
miles. Although we visited the Vatican a number pf times, we
felt that we had seen only a part, and many things unsatisfacto
rily at last. It is said that the palace, with the gardens, covers
a space as large as Turin, and that it contains twenty courts,
over two hundred smaller staircases, besides the eight grand
staircases ; while the number of its halls, chambers, and galle-
; ries almost exceeds belief. There are in it 4222 apartments.
Pictures. — The Vatican is not so much distinguished by
the number of its pictures as by their excellence. The Trans
figuration, by Raphael, is alone glory enough for any museum.
The same is true of the Last Communion of St. Jerome by
Domenichino. These, together with the Madonna del Fulignio
of Raphael, are in one room. We lingered long with great
satisfaction to gaze upon and admire them. The knowledge we
had of them by numerous copies and prints only increased our
curiosity and heightened our enjoyment in the contemplation

The Vatican. 317
ofthe original. They are in perfect condition ; but I shall indulge
in no remarks upon pictures that are so well known, and which
are above all praise. There are also pictures here by Guido,
Titian, and other eminent artists.
The Frescoes of the Vatican are innumerable, and among
them are the most masterly productions of the art which the
world has ever seen. The Sistine Chapel, decorated by Michael
Angelo, and the ancient state apartments of the Papal residence
in the Vatican, known as the " Stanze of Raphael," are the most
celebrated and in the best preservation. I will speak first briefly of
some of the immortal works of Raphael. This gifted author was
twenty-four years of age when he was invited, in the year 1508,
to the Court of Pope Julius II., in order to decorate the prin
cipal apartments of the Vatican with the works of his pencil.
The Papal power had then reached its highest pitch of
elevation, and had not received the check soon to follow from
the struggles of the German Reformation. It had gained an
extension of territory, and an increase of warlike resources more
considerable than at any former period ; while its spiritual in
fluence over the nations of Christendom was incalculable. To
glorify this power — to represent Rome as the centre of spiritual
culture, were the objects of the paintings in the Vatican. They
cover the ceilings and walls of three chambers and a large
saloon, which now bear the name of the " Stanze of Raphael."
These paintings occupied Raphael during the whole of his
residence in Rome, up to the time of his death, and were
completed by his scholars. The chief subjects treated are — 1,
Theology, or the dispute concerning the Sacrament ; 2, Phi
losophy, or the School of Athens; 3, Poetry, or the Parnassus ;
4, Jurisprudence. These four occupy one room, called Came-
na della Segnatura, and embraoe, as will be seen, subjects be
longing to the domain of pure thought, and exhibit the most
elevated tendencies of human nature. The second and third
are the most beautiful. The School of Athens occupies one
entire side of the hall, and represents the great teachers of phi
losophy, with their scholars, assembled in a noble atrium ; Plato

318 Rome.
and Aristotle stand together in the centre, on a raised tribune,
as if disputing together on their doctrines. Plato, the repre
sentative of speculative philosophy, points upward ; while Aris
totle stretches his outspread hand towards the earth, as the
source of his practical philosophy. Socrates (counting on his
fingers) explains to a group of listeners his principles and their
conclusions. In the foreground we observe, on the left, sur
rounded by scholars, Pythagoras, who, as the head of arith
metic, writes upon his knee. On the right, Archimedes con
structs a geometrical figure on a tablet lying on the ground.
Next are Zoroaster and Ptolemy, as representatives of astronomy
and geography, with celestial and terrestrial globes. On the
steps, between the two groups, and apart from all, reclines
Diogenes the Cynic. Near the group of Archimedes, close to
the edge of the picture, Raphael himself enters the hall, accom
panying his master Porugino ; Archimedes is the portrait of
Raphael's uncle, Bramante. The general arrangement and
grouping of this picture is most masterly, and it is painted in a
style most grand and free. Nothing can surpass the group of
youths collected round Archimedes, and the impression of the
whole picture even in its details is indelible.
The Poetry is a most pleasing, cheerful, graceful picture,
if not so grand as the former. In the upper part is seen
Apollo with the Muses, under laurel trees, on the heights of Par
nassus. The poets of antiquity and of modern Italy are ranged
on each side ; among them, Horace recites verses, which a
youth eagerly writes down ; behind him are Virgil and Dante.
Below, on each side of the window, which divides this picture,
are two separate groups ; on one side, Petrarch, Sappho, Co-
rinna and others, are engaged in conversation ; on the other,
Pindar, bowed down with age, speaks with enthusiasm, while
Horace and another Latin poet listen with reverential admira
tion* No scholar can study this picture without a feeling
of the most intense delight.
* Condensed from Kugler's Schools of Painting in Italy.

The Vatican. 319
The department called the Stanza of the Heliodorus is
so named after its principal picture. The ceiling, unfortunately
much injured by damp, was divided by four compartments
containing the promises of the Lord to the Patriarchs— i. e., the
promise of God to Abraham of a numerous posterity ; the Sa
crifice of Isaac ; Jacob's Dream ; and Moses and the Burning
Bush. The four large paintings on the wall refer to the Divine
assistance granted to the Church against her foes, and the
miraculous corroboration of her doctrines, with a special refer
ence to her relations — ecclesiastical and political— at the period
of her foundation.
Passing over the third apartment, called Stanza del Incen-
dio, which is less interesting, we go to the Hall of Constantine,
a large flat-roofed apartment, which really forms the entrance
to the others. The works in this room were executed after
Raphael's death by his pupils, and from his drawings, under
the direction of Gulio Romano. The principal work is the
Battle between Constantine and Maxentius, at the Ponte Molle,
near Rome. It was executed by Gulio Romano, without change,
from Raphael's designs, and is certainly one of his most impor
tant compositions, as it is also one of the largest pictures in
existence. The figures are over size. The moment represented
is the crisis of victory ; the vanquished are driven to the banks
of the Tiber ; the Emperor, on horseback, at the head of his
army, rides over the bodies of his prostrate foes. Figures of
victory hover over his head. He raises his spear against Max
entius, now driven into the river, and contending with the waves.
More distant on the right is seen the last struggle on the shore.
Still deeper in the picture, the fugitives are pursued over the
bridge. On the left, the battle still rages. The battle, the
victory, the- defeat, form a dramatic whole admirably developed,
and -calculated to produce the grandest impression. This pic
ture is true to history. On this occasion the Tiber literally ran
blood, and its waters were dammed by Roman corpses. It was
near the Ponte Molle that Constantine had the vision of the

320 Rome.
cross hung in the heavens, and bearing the inscription, " In hoc
signo vinces."
The frescoes in the " Loggie of Raphael " are so much in
jured by damp, that a better idea may be formed of them from
the etchings which have been published than from the works
themselves in their present state. The so-called Loggie are
open galleries built round three sides of the Court of St. Da-
maso, the vaulted' ceilings of which are divided into numerous
compartments, filled with an extensive series of events from
Scripture, particularly from the Old Testament, often called
Raphael's Bible. We recognized among these beautiful designs
many which have become familiar among the standard religious
illustrations of all Christendom.
Sistine Chapel.— While Raphael was executing the great
works we have just enumerated, Michael Angelo was engaged
in decorating the walls and ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with
those wonderful conceptions of his genius which have obtained
for him the reputation of being the greatest artist of that great
est age of art. His compositions do not please at first sight,
and it requires much study to understand and appreciate them.
The ceiling is occupied with scenes from the Book of Genesis —
the Creation, the fall of man and its consequences, and contains
the most perfect works done by Michael Angelo in his long and
- active life. All attempts to personify the Eternal Father appear
to me in-everent, and of course failures ; and the Creating Spirit
in the two first panels of this ceiling certainly forms no exception
to this remark, although they are regarded by artists as the
most competent of all similar attempts, and have been often
copied. The Last Judgment of this great artist, on the end
wall of the same chapel, was not undertaken until nearly thirty
years after the ceiling was completed, and when he was in his
60th year (1541). It is sixty feet high, and thirty broad, and
occupied him seven years in the execution. I shall not at
tempt a description of this great work, with its countless num
ber of figures, nearly all quite nude. It appeared to us that the
wrath, and not the mercy of God ruled in the conception of

The Vatican. 321
the artist ; and we turn from the convulsive struggles of the
condemned with cruel demons, to look in vain for the glory of
heaven, and for beings who bear the stamp of Divine holiness
— every where is the expression of human passion and of human
weakness — no joy, nor peace, nor blessedness are to be found
even among the pardoned, who ascend to the regions of celestial
bliss. (Kugler.) " Dies irae " seems written all over the picture.
Raphael's Tapestries, so well known from his celebrated
cartoons (or original drawings in distemper colors, seven of
which are in the Palace of Hampton Court, in England), were
intended to adorn the Sistine Chapel, but are now preserved in
a separate hall in the Vatican. They represent the lives of
the Apostles, and were worked from his cartoons at Arras, in
Flanders. These masterly productions, full of dignity, of gran
deur and simplicity of form, and of dramatic effect, have, alas !
lost much of their harmony of color from fading, and have also
been badly repaired. The Miraculous Draught of Fishes, the
Delivery of the Keys to Peter, the Healing of the Lame Man,
the Death of Ananias, and the Stoning of Stephen, form the
first series ; while the Conversion of St. Paul, the Punishment
of the Sorcerer Elymas, Paul and Barnabas at Lystra, the
Preaching of Paul at Athens, and Paul in the Prison of Philippi,
form the second series of this noble chapter of Scripture history.
The Gallery of Ancient Sepulchral Monuments is ex
tremely interesting. It is a long avenue within the walls of
the Vatican, and is filled entirely with the records of the dead
— the dead of centuries long past. From the tombs on the
Appian Way, and from the sepulchres of the early Christians,
a vast collection has been formed of ancient monumental in
scriptions and devices, sculptured chiefly in marble, and often
very rudely. On the left side of the gallery, in the direction
in which you are conducted through it, are seen the inscriptions
for the early Christians ; on the right, those of the Pagans.
There are more than 3000 of these monumental stones. They
are merely marble tablets, frequently of irregular form, and at
tached to the walls ; occasionally they are in the form of dis-
Vol. i.— 14*

322 Rome.
tinct busts, and more rarely of sarcophagi. The inscrip
tions on the Pagan monuments are not wanting in tenderness,
but they are without that hope which cheers the Christian — a
frequent termination on the monuments of the latter is "in
pace." The Pagan inscriptions are classified according to their
profession, origin, and rank — from slaves and servants to deified
heroes, emperors, and empresses. All the numerous servants
and officers of Caesar's household form one division, magistrates
another, citizens another, and so on. When we are among
them, we feel that we are conversing with the ancient dead, and
the effect on the mind is that of pensive and profitable con
templation. Antique Statuary. — In this department there is a
vast collection — more extensive than at the Capitol ; all are
antiques. Often they are in remarkable preservation, and when
found broken, they have been restored by reingrafting the de
tached member, or, if it were missing, adding a new one in
harmony with the figure.
Many of the finest productions of ancient art are here. The
perfection and lifelike airy character ofthe drapery is astonishing.
I will not repeat the remarks which I have made on this
subject, in connection with the musem of the Capitol. It is
impossible to wander, as we did repeatedly, among this host of
figures, both draped and nude, without realizing that we are
indeed among the ancient Romans ; silent although they are,
each has a characteristic position and manner, an action at
least apparently incipient, and indicative of personal charac
ter. These figures have been found among the ruins of ancient
Rome, or in villas, temples, and basilicas and baths of the
olden time. The original Apollo de Belvidere, and the original
group of Laocoon are here ; the former was found in the ruins
of the ancient Antium (Porto de Anzo, 38 miles from Rome) ;
the latter stood, formerly, in the Baths of Titus. Both have
separate tribunes for their exhibition. Pius VI. alone enriched
the Vatican with more than 2000 statues.
The Egypttan Museum. — This collection possesses a high

The Vatican. 323
degree of interest. Most of the figures were found in the ruins
of Hadrian's Villa. Among them, are ten sitting statues of Isis,
in black basalt, some of which are polished in a high degree.
There are cabinets of other Egyptian antiquities — mummies of
cats and other animals, and vessels of bronze and porcelain.
Some of the figures are in beautiful polished oriental granite.
Admirable representations in marble, of the form and life of
animals, are those known as the Greek, and I recall the remarks
before made on the wonderful skill of the ancients, in the treat
ment of hard stones and flinty rocks, in the gems, in granite,
jasper and porphyry.
In the circular hall of the Egyptian museum, there is a
grand vase of porphyry, 44 feet in circumference, or nearly 15
in diameter. It was discovered in the Baths of Titus, and now
stands on a celebrated Mosaic pavement, representing the head
of Medusa, and the battle of the Centaurs and Lapithae. This
Mosaic was found in the ruins of Cicero's Villa, at Tusculum.
But the most astonishing works in porphyry, probably in the
world, and to which modern art can produce no parallel, are
found in the hall of the Greek Cross.
They are the Sarcophagi of Constantia, the daughter of
Constantine, and of his mother, the Empress St. Helena.
Both are in red porphyry, exquisitely polished. They are
nearly cubical, and I suppose them to stand six feet high or
more, including the pedestals, and five feet broad. Their sides
are covered with figures cut in the solid porphyry, in relief so
bold, that they stand out in perfect distinctness. You feel as
if you could pick the bunches of grapes which adorn the vin
tage, represented on one : and you can actually span with your
hand, the raised arms of the fighting warriors on the other ;
you would think you could raise the fallen victims, or loose the
bands from the manacled arms of the prisoners.
The Sarcophagus of Constantia which contained her ashes,
was destined by Constantine to be deposited in a tomb, a cir
cular building decorated with Mosaics, and constructed by him
beyond the Porta Pia. This building was converted into the

324 , Rome.
church of St. Agnese. The Sarcophagus of St. Helena was
taken by Anastasius IV., from the ruins of the Mausoleum
constructed for its reception, by Constantine, beyond the Porta
Maggiore ; it was deposited by him in St. John Lateran, and
removed by Pius VI. to the Vatican : probably the Sarcopha
gus of Constantia may have accompanied it, both in the first
and second removal.
The granddaughter's Sarcophagus now stands by that of
her grandmother, with only an alley between. I have seen no
sculptures — considering the material — which have filled me
with such astonishment, and with the sober delight afforded by
a high attainment in art, especially in a substance which admits
of no injury, unless from violent mutilation, and which may be
as much admired ten thousand years hence as now, should the
world endure so long.
The beautiful polish also given by the ancients, to red
granite, usually called Oriental, is not in the least impaired in
the Sphinxes of the Egyptian Hall, and in two colossal statues
that adorn the doorway. We have also seen, in different col
lections, vases of porphyry and granite, four and five feet across ;
they always appear beautifully wrought, and are frequently
adorned with gracefully figured bas-reliefs. These things re
main to astonish and delight this recent age, while the hands
that formed them have, many centuries ago, crumbled into
dust, and their proud possessors have vanished from the earth.
Etruscan Antiquities. — The Etruscans, a people of Ori
ental origin, occupied the fairest portions of Italy, in ages long
before the founding of the Roman Empire. After bloody and
protracted wars, they were subdued by the Romans, and the
spoils, chiefly of their tombs, now grace many museums, and
especially the Vatican. Pope Gregory XVI. collected this
portion of the museum, which is shown only a short time each
day, at 10 o'clock, a. m. A special permission had been obtained
for us, by Mr. Cass, but we availed ourselves of an hour when
it is open to the public. On this occasion, it was strictly
watched by Swiss guards of the Pope, several of whom were

The Vatican. 325
constantly present in each room, and every visitor was carefully
but civilly looked after. These Etruscan remains are exceed
ingly rich and various, and prove a high state of advancement
in the arts. Their vases are well known, as models of elegant
and graceful forms ; but it is not so well known that their my
thologies serve as connecting links between the mythologies of
Egypt, Greece and Rome.
Eleven chambers are occupied by these remains of a people,
perhaps coeval with the early inhabitants of Egypt and Nine
veh. The vases are numerous and beautiful. Among a great
number of objects of interest, we saw sculptures of a high order
of excellence; sepulchral urns, containing the ashes of the
dead ; the bronze frame or bier, on which the dead were borne
to their tombs ; a warrior in bronze, nearly of full size, and
helmeted and mailed ; a war-chariot of Roman times, this could
contain only one warrior, and him standing ; shields of bronze,
one is pierced by a spear and its lining of wood and its leather
braces are still perfect. We may add to these things, numer
ous domestic utensils.
The Jewelry is rich in gold and precious stones. The
gems are set, as they were worn in rings, in bracelets, as
brooches, as frontlets and wreaths, and some of them are of
exquisite workmanship. The gold and silver filagrees of Genoa,
the gold chains Venice and Trichinipoly, do not excel them in
minuteness of execution, and rarely approach them in taste.
The patterns of the female ornaments are exquisitely beau
tiful, and might be worn as novelties in any court of Europe.
There are wreaths for the head, chaplets for the priests and
magistrates, and bands for the female head-dress ; some are fillets,
while others are composed of leaves of myrtle and olive, most
delicately wrought. The earrings are various, and some are
set with jewels some are in gold only, and in the form of birds
or other animals.
There are also necklaces and armlets of solid gold, in every
variety of pattern ; many are elastic, and most of them are in
the form of a serpent, either extended or coiled. " The bullae,

326 Rome.
or amulets, worn on the breast, are of large size, and elaborately
wrought. The fibulae for fastening the toga, the chain for the
neck, the gold lace, &c, are so beautiful, that modern skill can
produce few specimens of equal delicacy."
There is an embossed plate of a warrior, large enough
to cover the whole breast — it is of solid gold, with fibulae elabo
rately wrought. There are also silver cups and vases, with
figures in Egyptian relief.
Surely, it is wonderful that such treasures could repose in
the tombs, without being plundered by the thieves of that day.
Even in this age, and in Christian countries, they would not,
if known, be safe for a single night; but, they appear to
have been held sacred among a people, who, as abundantly ap
peal's, by the idols preserved in this very collection, were Pagans.
There are, in these rooms, models of the Etruscan tombs,
on the original scale. We were admitted into one, in which
we saw paintings upon the walls, lamps and lachrymatories, and
the order and position of the contents, as they were found.
The Library Rooms of the Vatican were the subjects of a
distinct visit. They are in a gallery, or rather succession of
galleries, which we were assured were three-fourths of a mile
in length, and the main gallery is crossed by another at right
angles. The gallery of the library has a very brilliant appear
ance, being very beautifully frescoed ; but its effect is not de
rived from the books, which are shut out of view in cases,
with opaque doors. We therefore saw nothing of them, nor of
the ancient and valuable manuscripts, which are contained in
a distinct room. At the time of our visit, this part of the Vat
ican was undergoing repairs.
Vases. — In the first room of the library, there were some
beautiful objects of art. There was a magnificent vase or urn,
four feet or more in height, made of the most superb Oriental
alabaster (concretionary stalactite) ; the pictures presented by its
natural lines and bands, with tints varying between white and
delicate straw yellow, formed a beautiful object. It was pre
sented to the Pope, by the Pacha of Egypt.

The Vatican. 327
Such also, as regards intense beauty, was another vase of
Sevres porcelain, pictured with most elegant delineations, and
zoned with cobalt blue, which is so perfect an imitation of lapis-
lazuli, that it could not be distinguished from that princely
mineral. This vase was a present from Louis Philippe to the
Pope : both of the vases last mentioned are o£ very large size
— I believe four or five feet in height.
The most extraordinary work of art, is a vase of malachite
(green carbonate of copper), presented to the reigning Pope, by
the Emperor of Russia, who, a few years since, made a visit to
Rome. This vase is square, of a flattened form, and stands upon
a pedestal of the same material. It is three feet four inches
broad, and nearly of the same height, including the pedestal.
As no single piece of malachite was ever discovered so large,
and at the same time sound, we looked critically for joints.
To an unpractised eye they are invisible, and only a person
who is familiar with this most beautiful of the ores of copper,
would be apt to discover the joinings. In fact, they can be
distinguished only by their want of coincidence with the deli
cate curved lines, in which the concretionary layers of the
malachite are arranged, and which with its rich green color
of varying intensity, a:nd its susceptibility of a fine polish,
gives it the high degree of beauty which it possesses.
Relics of the Early Christians. — In the gallery which
forms a cross with the library, are some of the most interesting
things which the eye of a Christian can contemplate. They
were obtained chiefly from the catacombs in and about Rome,
and especially from those of St. Calixtus. They are glass ves
sels, ornaments of gold and ivory, often set with precious stones,
lamps, paintings, &c, of the early ages of Christianity. In one
of the cases are preserved instruments of torture, by which the
early Christians were tormented when they suffered martyrdom.
These instruments are horrid to contemplate, and such as, we
should suppose, only demons from the infernal abode would
employ. Among them were pincers, to be applied red hot to
the body, and a kind of forceps, with sharp prongs, opening

328 Rome.
and shutting so as to tear the flesh of the innocent victim. How
could the vengeance of a just God slumber over such atrocities !
Among the elegant things which the early Christians pos
sessed were vessels of amber, with reliefs, and Christian sym
bols, carvings in ivory, &c, which show that the converts were
among the elegant and refined, as well as from people of com
mon condition in life.
It is remarked very justly, that " they are interesting not only
as objects of Christian art, but as illustrations of the religious
feelings ofthe times. Some of them are symbolical ofthe con
solations of Christianity in relation to death and sin. The his
tories of Moses and Jonas, and the miracles of the Saviour, are
among the most remarkable subjects."
Cameos.— The beautiful ornaments which are now cut from
shells, in imitation of the ancient Cameos, are familiar to all.
We have visited the shops in Rome where these things are cut
from modern turbinated shells, whose structure involves two dis
tinct layers of color, white and buff.
It was, however, very interesting to us to see the ancient
Cameos that were cut in the onyx agate. As time produces no
impression upon them, they are, of course, in perfect preserva
tion ; as they came from the hands of the original artist, so they
remain, and will abide, when all living beings on the earth shall
have passed away. The collection here is very beautiful,
although it is not large.*
I have named a few objects in the Vatican, but not a thou
sandth part.
The Vatican alone is well worth a voyage across the Atlantic,
and if St. Peter's is added, the traveller will be well repaid. In
both, every thing is exhibited with great liberality, and no
other restrictions are imposed than those which the safety of
the property requires. By proper applications, access can be
obtained to all the rooms, and the visitor will feel that great

* At Naples we saw a far more extensive collection, which will be
mentioned in due time.

Church of St. Sebastian, and the Catacombs. 329
intelligence and public spirit is manifested in these immense
collections, and in the manner in which they are arranged and
exhibited.

tffcttttji jrf St. jWtastisn, atvir i\t Cjrtaxjora&s.
This church is without the walls, and it is named from the
martyr, St. Sebastian, whose lacerated statue reposes before us
pierced with arrows, thus illustrating the manner in which he
was murdered.
This is a small church, but it is rendered painfully interest
ing by the Catacombs, the opening into which is beneath the
building. They are called the Catacombs of St. Calisto, or
Calixtus. It is believed that these Catacombs were originally
excavated by the Romans, to obtain puzzolana. They are
winding, intricate passages, real labyrinths, formed not only
in branches, but in stories, of which there are three. They are
continued underground, as is said, 20 miles to Ostia, the port
of Rome at the mouth of the Tiber in one direction, and to
Albano, 12 miles in another. In some places the excavations
are in large chambers, which the traveller views with intense
interest, as it is an undoubted fact that these gloomy recesses
afforded an asylum to the ancient Christians for their derided
and forbidden worship. Here they sympathized, and here they
praised God, and prayed to him for protection against their
cruel persecutors ; resorting, as is said, in disguise, to the city
in the day, and assembling here at night, for safet^md wor
ship. Some of these subterranean cavities seem to have been
fitted up to a certain degree as chapels, and portions of stucco
are found adhering to the walls. The oldest portrait of our
Saviour was found in one of these subterranean chambers, as is
supposed, and dates back to the third century.
Here also the early Christians found a refuge for their
dead, and thousands were interred here in holy secrecy. As
we wandered in these ancient solitudes, it was impossible to

330 Rome.
suppress strong emotions (and who would wish to do it ?) when
we saw the empty graves dug into the sides of the caverns and
galleries. It was easy to tell which way the body lay, as there
was a place hollowed out for the head, for they appeared to
have been buried generally without coffins, the indurated puz-
zolana forming a sufficient sarcophagus, and it was rare that
any other was provided. The tomb was often closed by a
marble slab with an inscription.
There were niches in the walls, which appear to have been
intended for lamps.
Many of the marbles with inscriptions, which we saw in
the Vatican, were taken from these graves, and along with
them many of those interesting personal relics that have been
already mentioned. Some of the graves have never been
opened — the marble door is closed even with the side wall,
and appears undisturbed.
We had a monk for our guide ; — he bore a light, while each
of us was furnished with a candle, and thus we followed him
in his devious wanderings. We, however, became willing to re
turn before we had strayed too far ; for so numerous were the
ramifications of these wonderful labyrinths that it seemed very
possible to lose our way, although under the guidance of one
who was familiar with the intricate windings of this mysterious
cemetery. This feeling was not diminished when a door was
pointed out to us — a door now closed and sealed — through
which, no longer ago than 1837, a schoolmaster entered with
ten or twelve of his scholars, and all were lost ; neither he nor
his confidjng pupils were ever heard of again ; they perished by
a most miserable death, entombed alive, and their bodies were
added to those which these catacombs still contain.
I must not omit to mention that our Ciceroni showed to us
the little chapel of Domine quo vadis, a short distance from the
Church of St. Sebastian. Lord, where goest thou ? is reported by
tradition to be the question put by St. Peter to the Saviour,
who met him at this place as he was going to Rome to sustain
the courage of the apostle in the prospect of martyrdom. With

Appian Way. 331
perfect gravity, Sant6 pointed out to us the deep and distinct
imprint of the Saviour's foot in a piece of white marble ! We
are careful on such occasions to avoid any appearance of levity,
and to read and hear the legends of Rome with due gravity.

Tomb of the Scipios. — This tomb is in a vineyard near
to Rome. It was accidentally discovered about seventy years
ago, in a subterranean recess on the Appian Way, in a place
not unlike the catacombs, but the excavation was of limited
extent. We descended into it by a door, as into a large
cellar, and saw the niche in which was found the sarcophagus
of Scipio Barbatus, grandfather of Scipio Africanus. It is of
coarse, gray peperino, and is now in the Vatican. It is evident
that the Scipio family intended that their retreat should never
be discovered. There was no external structure to mark the
place where this illustrious family lay ; and twenty-one centu
ries rolled by, before the discovery was made. Six other sarco
phagi were discovered in the same subterranean chamber.
Scipio Africanus was however not interred here, but at Linter-
num, near Baiae.
" The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now ;
The very sepulchres are tenantless
Of their heroic dwellers."
Columbaria. — The Romans were not entirely forgetful of
the memory of their slaves and freedmen. Their ashes were
deposited in earthen urns, arranged in niches, like pigeon
holes, and therefore these repositories were called Columbaria."
We entered three of these sepulchres, not far from the tombs
of the Scipios. As they were in excellent order, I presume
that they have not been disturbed, but only cleared of rubbish.
One of them however was exactly in the condition in which it

332 Rome.
was discovered. They were protected by an arched roof, and
stairs descended into a square cavity in the earth, like a cellar.
They were twenty or twenty-five feet deep, and perhaps forty
feet square. The urns were arranged in the niches in rows,
and in successive layers, and above each the name of the person
was inscribed. In both situations I have lifted the lid of the
urn and taken out a handful of the calcined bones of a fellow
creature, interred perhaps 2000 years ago.
One of the large Columbarian cemeteries which we exam
ined was devoted to the slaves of the Scipio family. I cast my
eyes over the urns in the niches to ascertain their number, and
believe that it approached 200. Those that remained in their
places were in perfect order, as they were originally deposited.
There are many Columbaria in and about Rome ; and it
gives one a more favorable impression of the stern Roman
heart, when we find that even their slaves were remembered —
their calcined remains honored with the rites of sepulture, and
their names preserved, not only over the funereal urn, but re
corded also in those more durable inscriptions in marble, of
which we saw many in the monumental galleries of the Vati
can. Tombs on the Appian Way.* — There are many tombs of
distinguished persons in other places, but the Via Appia was
the favorite region for sepulture. This great road, paved
with large masses of lava, led from Rome to Pompeii, Her
culaneum, Pozzuoli, and Brundusium, and is still in many
places apparent, as at first, above the surface, or has been un
covered by removal of accumulated earth. Along this great
artery of approach to Rome, as well as to other towns and
cities to, or by which the Appian Way passed, the ancient
Romans delighted to deposit the remains of their friends ; and
doubtless they regarded it as a religious duty to erect sepul
chres for them, and to prepare their own, especially in this
* The Appian Way received its name from its founder Appius
Claudius, 313 years before Christ.

Appian Way. 333
beautiful part ofthe Campagna. For several miles from Rome,
the Appian Way was on both sides a great street of the dead.
We devoted a day — a day of intense interest — to this monu
mental avenue, which we followed out five or six miles from
Rome, in delightful weather, with a brilliant sun, whose very
beams seemed however a little softened by a funereal shading ;
for they had shone upon these mausoleums when they were
new and fresh, and they now glanced over their ruins. Alas for
the hope of immortality to the name of man from any structures
which he can erect !
Except the single tomb of Cecilia Metella, all the rest are
in ruins ; and this tomb, partially despoiled, would have fared
no better had it not served well for a fortress in several wars.
The piles of ruins were not confined to the exact lines of the Ap
pian Way. We clambered up several of these mounds of ruins,
some of which were large and high, and directing the eye
around the horizon in every direction, and often far from the
road, tombs were always the most conspicuous objects in view.
Often they were large structures, like small houses or temples,
and were adorned with polished marble facings, and with statu
ary, sometimes allegorical, or representing the family, or the in
dividual interred within. But all, — all, with the single excep
tion* named above, are in ruins ! Piles and heaps of ruins
where, had barbarism withheld its sacrilegious hands, there
would have remained, as at Pompeii, a beautiful and venera
ble street of the dead, rich in the most interesting and instruc
tive monuments, and commemorative inscriptions, many of
which have been, with their statuary, rescued from utter de
struction, and preserved in the Vatican ; but alas, with few ex
ceptions, those who were interred in these tombs looked for no
morning twilight to "dawn on the night of the grave;" or if
they had any faith, it was reposed upon the gross and sensual
fables of heathen mythology. The government, with a laud-
* I refer to those without the walls ;— the tomb of Caius Cestus
is within ; and there are tombs under the Castle of St. Angelo.

334 Rome.
able spirit, is now causing these ruins to be explored. They care
fully collect all the fragments — all statues or fragments of statues
— all funeral urns, and other objects of interest, to be preserved
in Rome, or to be replaced in the restored tombs, when it is
possible to reconstruct them, which however is rarely the case.
The removal of rubbish has revealed the interior structure of
many of the tombs. Not unfrequently the cinerary urns are
found in place, as in the Columbaria or in the Sarcophagi.
Occasionally, when the body was not burned, the bones remain.
We saw, and handled, and brought away, some of them.
Among the inscriptions there are many memorials of affec
tion, of parental, conjugal, filial, fraternal and sisterly love.
There are carved heads in high relief ; sometimes of a husband
and wife, or of parents and children ; all the family, apparently,
being represented and named.
Mamertine Prison. — This celebrated prison is at the foot
of the Capitoline Hill, and very near to the Forum. It was
evidently constructed for prisoners of state, and was a sepul
chre for the living. It is as old as Rome, being of the age of the
early kings. It is constructed of massive blocks of hewn
peperino, has two chambers, an upper and a lower, and it is
suspected that there are other apartments that have not yet
been opened. Both the rooms now seen are roofed with large
masses of stone, not in the form of an arch, but fitted to each
other in a converging form, and clasped with iron, in the man
ner of the Etruscan structures. It is supposed to be as old
as the times of the Etruscans. There is a small church over
the whole, so that there are three stories in all. Through the
church, where the people were at worship, we descended twenty-
eight steps, to the upper chamber, which is thirty feet long,
twenty-two broad, and fourteen high. The lower room is twen
ty-two feet in diameter, semicircular, and about six feet high.
In the upper prison we found the statues of St. Peter and
St. Paul. These statues were incarcerated not only in the prison
itself, but they were inclosed in a kind of cage, intended for a
shrine, with bars in front, as in the shows of wild beasts. Levity

Appian Way. 335
should have no place even where the overwrought legends have
sought to augment religious feeling by taxing an amiable cre
dulity, and sustaining the impressions by physical exhibitions.
It is certainly enough to make one feel solemn to descend, as
we now did, into the nether prison, where it is veiy possible
that St. Paul may have been confined when under sentence of
death, unless the ruthless tyrant, impulsive and violent as he
was, ordered him to summary punishment. There is, however,
no certainty that St. Paul was confined in this prison.
We read in an account which is not legendary, that "Paul
dwelt two whole years in his own hired house (at Rome), and
received all that came in unto him, preaching the kingdom of
God, and teaching those things which concern the Lord Jesus
Christ, with all confidence, no man forbidding him." And this
corresponds with his first reception, when " he was suffered to
dwell by himself, with a soldier that kept him." (Acts xxviii.)
' If St. Peter was ever in Rome, it is very possible that he, too,
may have been in the Mamertine prison ; although it is cer
tainly not proved by his image in the shrine, nor even by the
pillar of granite in the lower prison, with the two iron hooks
still in them, which, it is asserted, held the two apostles ; nor
even by the fountain of water rising out of the solid rock, and
which pilgrims believe that St. Peter evoked, like Moses of old,
for the purpose of baptizing his fellow prisoners whom he had
converted. Surely there is in our holy faith enough that is spiritual to
command all our confidence, and to sustain our warmest devo
tion, without these artificial helps from tradition or fiction,
which unhappily still abound in Rome.
The lower prison is a horrible dungeon. There is a circu
lar hole cut through its roof, by which it is, with good reason,
believed that prisoners were let down into this dark, damp, and
hopeless cavern, which Sallust describes as being " terrific, from
the filth, the darkness, and the smell."
Whether the holy apostles were ever there or not, it is
enough to fill one with horror to be in such a place, where, it is

336 Rome.
believed, that Jugurtha, the Numidian king, was starved to
death, and where the accomplices of Catiline, Lentulus, Cethe-
gus, and others, were strangled.
The Mamertine appears to have been, in the early days of
Rome, the only prison ; and it was regarded as very remarkable
that one prison was at that time sufficient That this' is indeed
the prison of the ancient Romans, is proved by the following pas
sage from Livy : — " Career, ad terrorem incrementis audaciae,
media urbe, imminens foro, aedificatur." In another passage
he distinctly alludes to the lower prison, when he mentions
the execution of Quintus Pleminius : " In inferiorem demissus
carcerem est, necatusque."

Mrtnt ms &tmltx% si t\t toptfpa.
Rome abounds in priests and monks, whom we meet every
where in the streets — and probably the nuns are not less nu
merous, but we see their living sepulchres only on the outside,
the inmates being secluded from view, as their prisons are in
accessible, especially to strangers. Not so with the monks ;
they are ever ready to confer with the traveller, and to admit
him into their recesses, expecting from him, of course, a contri
bution to their community. The monks of the order of the
Capuchins wear a coarse brown robe, loose, like a dressing
gown, and secured by a rope around the waist.
They are shaven on the poll, unshaven on the chin, and
generally go uncovered ; as they walk freely abroad in the
sun without any protection for the face, they are of a very
dark complexion. Their straw beds are in little comfort
less rooms, without furniture, unless it be a table, a chair, and a
crucifix. They sleep in the coarse, brown woollen dress which
they wear by day, and they wear no linen. They have a plain
chapel, furnished with tombs, pictures, and relics ; but two well
cultivated gardens give an agreeable air to their otherwise cheer-

Convent and Cemetery of the Capuchins. 337
less abode. They have an apothecary and furnishing establish
ment, supplying both medicine to the sick and comfort to the
well ; this department was neat, capacious, and in good order.
The manners of the monks were quiet and mild, but most of
them appeared vacant and listless, although we were assured
that a few of them are learned men ; but whether beyond the
lore of their order and of their church I know not.
That part of their establishment upon which they appeared
to set the highest value, was their cemetery, and it was to see
this that we were more particularly invited by our Cicerone.
The cemetery is beneath the church, and having no idea of any
thing more than tombs, and the usual decencies of a place of
interment, we were struck with horror and disgust on entering
a real charnel house — a Golgotha, indeed ! - Here, in a succes
sion of rooms, are preserved in full view all the bones of their
predecessors; and the monks now living expect to afford, in
turn, their contribution to this palace of dry bones. When
the brethren in succession die, they are at first buried in earth
brought long ago, by the Crusaders, from Jerusalem, wrapped
in the same coarse garments which they wore in life, and
without a coffin. They say that in one year it brings
the bodies to the condition of skeletons; they are then ex
humed, to make room for their successors, and their bones
are placed in the general repository. Here they are disposed
of in a manner to produce, not emotions of reverence and
solemnity in the contemplation of the poor remains of humanity,
but, on the contrary, feelings of disgust and offence. Some
-skeletons are preserved entire, in due connection of parts, and
are laid out in the dress of the order — the grim and bony
visage, with lipless mouth, naked teeth, and eyeless orbs being
alone exposed to view. Other skeletons, in the same costume,
are placed and sustained erect, bowing their brainless skulls, or
looking— if their empty sockets, can look— at the spectators.
But this is not the worst part of the arrangement. Ex
cepting the skeletons just named, the bones of all the rest are
dissevered from their natural position, and so assorted as to
Vol. Ltt^18

338 Rome.
have all of a kind together. There are long ranges of skulls ;
strings and ropes of vertebrae ; columns of femurs and of the hu
merus, of tibias and fibulas ; and not only so, but the smaller bones,
such as the phalanges of the hand and foot, the ribs, the clavi
cles, the sternum, and occasionally some of the larger bones, are
artistically arranged and disposed on the ceiling of the room in
arabesque figures, and also along the columns and side walls in
flowers and fanciful forms ; some are hung in the form of
lamps and chandeliers, so as to make them ornamental !
Strange morbid taste, springing from false views of life and
duty, and from an institution appearing in direct opposition to
the fundamental principles of human society, established by
God himself in the first human family. But let us do justice
to the monks. I am assured that these people, who, to the eye
of an observer, appear like drones in the world, and a burden
upon its resources, do indeed render some service in sickness
and at funerals, and are ready for offices of humanity ; but
none of us are excused from these duties, which are entirely
consistent with our social relations, and with that institution
which is the source of all the good that exists in the world.
I must not omit to mention that in the chapel there are
several pictures by celebrated artists — Christ in the Purple
Robes, the Conversion of St. Paul, the Ecstasy of St. Francis,
&c. The picture of the Archangel Michael and Lucifer, by
Guido, interested us very much. It is well known by copies
from it, which are not uncommon in America.
Collegio de Propaganda Fide. — This college was founded
by Gregory XV., in 1622, "for the purpose of educating, as
missionaries, young foreigners from infidel or heretical countries,
who might afterwards return, and spread the Catholic faith
among their own countrymen."
Feeling a desire to step within the walls of this celebrated
institution, we called without introduction and sent in our cards.
After some time, a young American from Philadelphia, known
to us in Yale College, who is here receiving his education, came
to us. Our ladies were permitted to enter, and we requested

Other Memorials of Ancient Rome. 339
permission to see the library, but the proper officer was absent,
and we were courteously invited to call next day, which was,
however, prevented by other engagements. The printing-office
is furnished with a rich variety of oriental characters, and we
regretted that we could not look more thoroughly into this in
stitution, whose reputation is known throughout the wide world.
Collegio della Sapienza. — It was founded in 1244, by
Innocent TV., as a school for the civil and canon law, and by
subsequent Popes its plan has been enlarged, to comprehend
other professional and scientific studies.
We had letters from Mr. John Taylor, of Liverpool, to seve
ral of the learned men of Rome, and among them to a professor
of this institution. He was away from the city, but on calling
and showing our cards we were very kindly received by two
of .the professors, and they showed us a fine apparatus in the
department of physics, and a good collection in mineralogy and
geology. In the zoological room, suspended overhead, there
was a modern shark of 20 feet in length, in an excellent state
of preservation, and the teeth were fully in view.
We were invited to repeat our call, but did not find the
time, nor were we able to visit the Collegio Romano, as we had
intended to do.

§tkx Pmrals si ^ncitnt %smt.
Beside the ruins and monuments already mentioned, we
visited and examined with great interest numerous other me
morials of ancient Rome, some of which deserve a passing
notice. It is difficult to convey by description any ade
quate idea of the immensity of the great public places of an
cient Rome— her palaces, and temples, circuses, theatres, and
baths. The Baths of Diocletian have already been men
tioned. Still more remarkable are the ruins of the Baths of
Titus and of Caracalla. The former stand on the Esquiline

340 Rome.
Hill, near the Coliseum and the Golden House of Nero, while
the latter are outside of the walls, and on a scale of colossal
grandeur and magnificence. Their very ruins are stupendous.
From them have been rescued some of the noblest works of
ancient art, as the Laocoon from those of Titus, as well as the
precious frescoes, which gave to Raphael the hint he so well
improved in decorating the Loggie of the Vatican. From
the Baths of Caracalla came the Farnese Bull and Hercules,
the Colossal Flora, the two Gladiators, the Venus Callipyge,
the basaltic Baths of the Vatican, the granite basins of the Pi
azza Farnese, with bas-reliefs, cameos, bronzes, and minor works
innumerable. Circus of Romulus or Maxentius. — We rode out two
miles into the country, on the road to the tomb of Cecilia
Metella, outside of the Porto San Sebastiano, and were greatly
delighted with our visit to this most interesting ruin. We
walked leisurely over the now verdant and beautiful field which
was once trodden by the hoofs of the flying horses, and cut by
the wheels of the careering chariots. The name of Caracalla,
as the founder of this Circus, has been set aside in consequence
of three inscriptions brought to light by the excavations of the
Duke of Bracciano in 1825. These inscriptions bore the name
of Maxentius, and the most perfect of the inscriptions is placed
over the great entrance. It records that the Circus was conse
crated to Romulus, the son of Maxentius, a. d. 311. This is
the most perfect circus whose ruins afford a subject of instructive
study. The area is an oblong field, 1580 feet in length, by
260 in breadth. It is inclosed by a high wall of bricks and
small stones, which is nearly entire — a circuit of more than
half a mile. The large amphora}, or hollow earthen jars, which
the Romans inserted in the vault to diminish its weight, are
still there. The seats within the wall for the spectators have
fallen, and form a terrace all around.
A low ridge called a spina, runs longitudinally through the
ground ; it is still conspicuous, although depressed by time, and
is believed to have been nearly 900 long, and 2 to 5 feet high ;

The Palace of the Caesars. 341
on an eminence at each extremity stood the metae, or bounds
of the course, and the whole ridge was decorated with various
works of art, among which an obelisk was conspicuous. So
many things remain distinct and intelligible in this Circus, that
the view of it was very satisfactory. There are the stables for
the imperial horses, and houses for the carriages — the former,
200 to 250 in number; there are the goals from which the
chariots were to start ; there are the stations of observation for
the emperor and the magistrates, for the judges, for the vestal
virgins, for the musicians, for the extra charioteers to replace
those who may be killed in the hazardous contest ; and here is
the vault, the receiving room for the dead — all remain nearly
as they were left by those who last, in time, strove here for
victory. Then add the double line of excited spectators in their
elevated galleries, along the entire length of both sides of this
beautiful field, terminated by the goal at which the winged
chariots were to arrive, and by the arch of triumph through
which the successful competitor passed to be crowned, after
-thrice compassing the field at the head of the whole array of
twelve chariots, each flying with four horses. What a spec
tacle ! and with what bursts of enthusiasm, and with what
shouts of acclamation might it have been hailed by the ap
plauding multitude !
The Palace of the Caesars. — The Palatine Hill, on
which Romulus erected his straw hut, — the beginning of an
cient Rome, and afterwards covered by the imperial palace of
Augustus, and the golden palace of Nero, which looked down
in its splendor upon the glories of the Roman Forum, — the
Palatine Hill is now a scene of utter desolation. There is now
no definite structure which can be called the Palace of the
Caesars. There are piles of ruins referable to different eras
and emperors, and it is difficult to imagine a more complete
annihilation of ancient grandeur. The greater part of the large
hill of the Palatine, one mile and a half in circumference, has
been swept with the besom of destruction.
Augustus erected the first palace on the site of the houses

342 Rome.
of Cicero, Hortensius, and Claudius. He built, also, a temple
of Apollo, and a library. Tiberius increased the palace, and
Nero extended it towards the Coliseum, and after the great
conflagration, Nero built his golden house upon the ruins of
the former palace, and extended it to the Esquiline Hill, " dis
placing the house of Maecenas, filling up the valley of the Co
liseum, and covering with its grounds a great portion of the
Celian." " The soil on the Palatine is composed of fragments of ma
sonry, and in many parts it covers the original surface to a
depth of nearly twenty feet. The hill is portioned out into
gardens and vineyards."
We made our approach from the Arch of Titus by the Via
Polveriera. We passed by remains of arches and walls and
vaults in ruins ; some of the vaults retain their original stucco,
and are decorated with beautiful arabesques and gilding. Driv
ing around immense piles of ruins, and grand, massy walls,
which still rise high above the low street in which we were
riding, we arrived at the usual place of access ; it is through a
humble private house, and up a disagreeable, out-of-doors stair
case, from the top of which we landed on the ruins of the so
called Palace of the Caesars. Stupendous, inaccessible walls
towered still above us, but they are broken down in many places,
and utterly despoiled of all their ornaments. You look around
in vain even for a piece of marble out of which to carve a
memorial of departed glory. You are, in fact, in a garden
where flowers and culinary plants are cultivated above and
upon the third story of the ancient palace, and still a fourth
story and a basement lies buried along with the glory of the
Caesars in the earth below ! You are on a high elevation,
and look down upon the large area at the foot of the palace,
where was once the Circus Maximus, the flying chariot career
ing beneath the imperial eye. The area of the Circus Maxi
mus is now being filled up and levelled to form a cemetery for
the Jews, who have already begun to bury their dead in this
new abode, waiting, as they are, in hope for the restoration of

The Great Sewer of Rome. 343
their long suffering people to Jerusalem, wnere every true-
hearted Israelite sighs to lay his bones at the foot of the Moun*.
of Olives, and in view of the place where once stood the glo
rious temple of Jehovah, now supplanted by the mosque of
Omar. Fountain and Grotto of Egeria. — Between the Ap
pian Way and the high road to Naples, there is a copious foun
tain, issuing from the foot of a high hill, and it is covered by a
temple-grotto, which was once paved with serpentine,* and
faced with marble. Tradition says that at this fountain and in
the neighboring grove, Numa held converse, and took counsel
with the nymph Egeria. However the identity of the place
may be doubted, and the tradition regarded as a dream, the
fountain and the accompanying scenery are very beautiful, and
as it is but a short distance from Rome, and the fine hills and
meadows are very attractive, the place is well worthy of a visit.
We wandered over these grounds and passed up the steep
hill-side among grass and trees, and could hardly realize that a
scene so perfectly rural, secluded and primitive in its simplicity,
could exist a little out of the walls of Rome.
The Great Sewer of Rome — Cloaca Maxima. — This
great work was accomplished by Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth
king of Rome, within 150 years from the founding of the city,
and it is still perfect as when it was built, although from neg
lect, the filth and rubbish have accumulated to the depth of 20
feet, and leave only a portion of the upper part of the arch
visible. We saw it at a place where it has been broken into in the
middle of the city.
It appears now to be useless, although when it was first
constructed, a cart loaded with hay might have been driven
into it, and it then served to drain the waters of the marshes
which existed between the Capitoline and Palatine hills. It is
* We observe that at Rome the ancient green porphyry is erro
neously called serpentine by the Ciceronis.

344 Rome.
2500 years since it was constructed, and if it were cleaned out
it would be as useful as ever. It discharges into the Tiber just
below the Ponte Rotto.

$ slues si tlrt iptara %smm pures.
Rome is not more remarkable for the dignity and magni
tude of its ancient ruins, than for the number and splendor of its
modern palaces.
It was equally impossible and unnecessary for us to visit
them all, but we enjoyed the view of a considerable number,
including the most interesting. Our party, or different mem
bers of it, were admitted to the Barbarini, the Doria, the Co-
lonna, the Borghese, the Corsini and the Albani palaces ; the
latter is in the country, in the vicinity of Rome. These palaces
are vast quadrangles, often including within their area and ap
pendages, several acres of ground, and rising usually to six or
seven stories in elevation.
They contain, in the greatest profusion and variety, speci
mens of all those beautiful, splendid, and grand objects of art,
which have been so frequently mentioned, and to these private
palaces, must we often look for the finest productions of the
great masters in painting, in fresco, and in statuary. Raphael,
Guido, Annibale Caracci, Domenichino, Gulio Romano, Cano
va, Poussin, Rubens, Tintoretto, Vandyke, Titian, Michael
Angelo, and many other eminent artists, are conspicuous in
these palaces by their fine productions. In them also, are some
of the choicest ornaments of antiquity, which have been drawn
from the Baths, the Catacombs, the Etruscan tombs, or other
similar sources. The cost of these collections has been immense,
and we are assured, that some of their possessors are, in fact,
poor, in the midst of so much apparent wealth and real splendor ;
for their palaces bring them no income, but, on the contrary, a
great and certain expenditure, for which there is no return, un
less, as we are told is sometimes the case, the servants who ex-

Palaces of the Modern Roman Princes. 345
hibit the rooms, pay over to the master, the gratuities given by
visitors. Those among the princes, and there are some such,
who have a vast income derived from real estate, can afford to
possess such palaces.
Although on account of the great multitude of objects of
art contained in them, I am inclined to pass them in silence, I
am constrained to mention a few things.
The Barbarini Palace, founded by Pope Urban VIH.,
and finished' 1650, appears to be neglected. In its halls, it
has not the neatness and finish usually seen in the palaces
of this country, although the winding staircase and the
Hon upon the landing-place, are very fine ; the lion is a
bas-relief and was found at Palestina. Many of the most
interesting things once in this palace, have been removed to
various collections ; the Faun is at Munich, and the Portland
Vase in the British Museum. The Fornarina of Raphael (his
favorite lady) in this palace, is an undoubted production of his
pencil, but is less beautiful than the Fornarina at Florence.
The Beatrice Cenci of Guido is here, which was our princi
pal motive for visiting this palace ; it is said that the picture
was sketched the night before her execution, or as others say,
from memory, when she was mounting the scaffold. The sad ¦
story of her fate need not be here repeated.
Suffice it to say, that the most authentic records, show that we
may fully indulge not only all the admiration, but the sympathy
for suffering innocence, which this beautiful and touching pic- /
hire is so well adapted to excite. It is so strongly impressed
upon my recollection, after seeing many copies, that the features,
recur like those of a living person whom I have intimately
known. Colonna Palace. — This splendid palace we saw with
much satisfaction. It has a grand picture gallery of 150 feet in
length, the finest in Rome, but I shall not attempt the descrip
tion of its contents, or of the statuary. The gardens behind
the palace run up the slope of the Quirinal, and are remarka
ble for the pines and box.
V„, T  1 S*

346 Rome.
The Borghese Palace was begun in 1590. There
are 96 granite columns in the porticos. The gallery contains
700 paintings, and among them, several of a high order of
merit. I will mention John the Baptist in the desert, by Paul
Veronese, and the entombment of Christ, by Raphael ; this his
torical picture was painted when he was only 24 years of age ;
it is full of deep pathos.
The Corsini is one of the handsomest palaces in Rome, and
is situated in the Trastevere, near the Janiculum Hill. A dou
ble staircase of imposing architecture leads to the gallery, which
contains some fine pictures. There is here a very beautiful an
tique curule chair of marble with bas-reliefs, and supposed to be
Greek. The library contains over 1300 MSS. Behind the
palace, on the crest of the Janiculum Hill, is the Corsini Villa,
the prospect from which presents a complete panorama of
Rome. The Villa Albini. — We passed many hours in this
rural villa. It is so rich and beautiful, and its objects of art are
so numerous, that I cannot attempt to describe them. It is just
out of Rome, and to its embellishment, the life and the means
of Cardinal Albini were devoted, while he expended nothing
in any other way, for his own gratification. The grounds are
exquisitely beautiful, and the statuary and pictures are of a
high order of merit. The French under Napoleon, plundered
it of 294 pieces of sculpture, which were transported to Paris,
and although the peace of 1815, restored them to Cardinal Al
bini, he could not afford to transport them back to Rome ; they
were then sold to the King of Bavaria, and went to Munich,
excepting only the Antinous. Still, the palace now contains a
vast collection. We walked through its splendid halls and
galleries, and through its delightful grounds, tastefully laid out,
and like the apartments of the villa itself, adorned with statues
and busts, distributed among groves, shrubs, and flowers ; we
gazed at the numerous pictures which cover the walls of the
partments, and upon many curious objects of ancient and
modern art, until we were wearied with gratification. I wan-

Miscellaneous. 347
dered alone to the very last apartment in the long range of
halls, and sitting down by myself upon a sofa, I could not
but feel how forlorn is even an adorned palace, where there are
no human sympathies, no social ties, and no communion but
with the dead, and with the mute creations of art.
This villa lay out of the range of the republican shot in
1849, and was left uninjured, while the neighboring grounds
of the prince Borghese were laid waste, as I have already
stated. This was the more to be regretted, as they were always
open to the public. The following inscription was placed on
the pedestal of an ancient statue in the Borghese park : 
Quisquis es, si liber, legum compedes ne hie timeas. Ito quo vo
les, petito quod cupis, abito quando voles.
This is in accordance with the liberal spirit every where
manifested in Europe, and especially in Italy. The proprietors
of these noble establishments, give free access, under reasonable
regulations, to strangers as well as to fellow citizens or subjects,
and there are always persons in attendance to exhibit and ex
plain. There is no mutilation, or plundering, or defacing —
an example which it would be more to our honor, if we fully
emulated. Except the effects of political revolution and of war,
we have seen no instance in Europe of a wanton invasion of
public or private property, and of objects of art and taste.
Miscellaneous. — Protestant Worship. — Our diplomatic
resident, Mr. Cass, has succeeded in obtaining sufferance for
American Protestant worship, in Rome, as an appendage of
his embassy. We attended (as of old in Jerusalem, " in an upper
chamber") the ministrations of the Rev. Mr. Hastings, an
American clergyman, and it was very interesting to us to hear
again in our own language Protestant preaching, and the liv
ing voice of prayer not in an unknown tongue. The audience
was about 60, but it was the season when English and American
strangers begin to withdraw from Rome, and we were assured
that an audience of 200 is often assembled here. Mr. Has
tings is a preacher of no ordinary power, and we were struck
with his boldness in holding up, in a strong point of view, some

348 Rome to Naples.
of those errors of the Church of Rome, which Protestants are
wont to denounce.
I suppose that no hearers, except Americans and English,
were present — but the bruit of his remarks might, perchance,
float on the air, to the ear of the cardinals, or of the police.
Indeed, after our return we heard that he had been silenced ;
but it seems to have been only for a season, as his service was
renewed.

$we is $fo#I*s. May IS, 1851.
At noon we passed out of one of the ancient portals of
Rome, with deep regret that the brief period allotted to the
eternal city in our plan of travel was now brought to a conclu
sion. We had the satisfaction of feeling that our time had
been most economically and industriously bestowed, and that
we had accomplished much more than we had dared to hope.
Our devoted guide Sante, followed us to the diligence office,
and was most earnest in demonstrations of sorrow at our de
parture, humbly asking to be permitted to kiss our hands, in
token of his devotion to our service and persons.
Passing the Church of St. John Lateran, we were again in
the Campagna, beautiful in its desolation — with its monuments
of gone-by splendor and power.
No feature of ancient Rome is more impressive than the
ruins of the numerous aqueducts, whose arches still span this
broad expanse of beautiful undulating land, and excite feelings
of pensive association with ages and people that have passed
away. We were soon at Albano, 14 miles from Rome — on the
ancient Monte Albano, so rich in classical associations. The
town contains about 5000 people. Near by is the lake of the
same name, once the crater of a volcano, whose lava flowed in
a remote period almost to the gates of Rome. Several othei
extinct volcanoes, referable to the same period, encircled Rome,

Aricia. 349
and their compact lavas were extensively used by the Romans
in architecture, and especially in forming pavements, as for ex
ample in the Via Sacra and Appian Way. Monte Albano rises
2048 feet above the level of the lake, whose waters were pre
vented from overflowing by a tunnel, wrought by the Romans,
over a mile and a half through the tufa.
This was a favorite region with the ancient Roman nobles,
and the modern nobility and magnates are not less partial to a
country which is both picturesque and healthful. The Pope
has a villa here.
Aricia. — On rising the paved hill which leads into Aricia
our six horses balked, and although the entire party descended
from the vehicle, they refused to draw the empty coach up a
hill not of very steep ascent, and we were detained mare than
an hour, while they sent back to Albano to obtain another
team. In the mean time, several of the gentlemen of the party
ascended into Aricia, which is about a mile from Albano, and
is separated from it by a deep hollow, or valley, over which they
are now constructing a viaduct, to save the aiscent of the hill
which embarrassed us.
We were now fairly out on the route of Horace's celebrated
journey to Brundusium. From the appearance of Aricia, his
first stage, we could not doubt that, had we called for it, this
filthy and disagreeable walled town would have entertained us
as it did him, " hospitio modico."*
Aricia, on the crown of the hill, one of the confederate
towns of Latium, was once an important city, but it is now re
duced to 1300 inhabitants. It has a splendid palace and church
to which we in vain endeavored to obtain access, and we were
so besieged by beggars, ragged adults, and filthy children, in
filthy streets, that we were glad to retreat out of the gate, and
to finger there until the arrival of our carriage.
From the Alban hills we enjoyed a grand panorama,
stretching from the blue Mediterranean on the left, over the
* Egressum magna me accepit Aricia Roma Hospitio modico.

350 Pontine Marshes.
Campagna, with its numerous monuments, and colossal arches
of broken aqueducts. Rome, with its walls, towers, and domes,
like an oasis in the desert, formed the extreme right of the
picture, extending to the Candidum Soracte.
From the hill of Aricia we looked down upon an extensive
circular hollow, immediately at our feet, which appears to have
been an ancient crater of great extent, and afterwards a lake,
but it is now dry and presents a verdant bottom. Volcanic tufa,
the peperino of Rome, was the prevailing rock, and of this the
walls of Aricia are constructed. The tomb of Aruns, son of
Porsenna, the Etrurian king, is in this vicinity ; he was killed
on the retreat of the Etruscan army from Rome.
Velletri. — We now passed six miles to Velletri, an incon
siderable place, where we did not stop. On our way we ob
served the large square tomb, believed to be the mausoleum of
Pompey the Great, whose ashes were brought from Egypt and
deposited here by Cornelia.* Soon we wound our way among
high mountains, presenting, for many miles, very majestic
scenery. At Cisterna, just at evening, we dined, poorly enough, in
a disagreeable old house.
Night was now soon upon us, and we wooed sleep, regard
less of the country through which we were travelling.
Pontine Marshes.— The moon shone out in all its bright
ness, as we passed over the long tract of the Pontine Marshes,
and observed the deep and wide canals, which, with great ex
pense, have been dug to drain them. This important enterprise,
which engaged the attention of the Romans of old, has been
pursued with zeal by the modern Popes, and the various gov
ernments of Italy, until the great object in view, the recovery
of the drowned lands, and the improvement of the health of
the country, has been attained, so that a large portion of this tract
is now under cultivation. We passed through it without anxi
ety in regard to malaria.
* Plutarch says that the tomb of Pompey was near his Alban
villa.

Capua. 351
Terracina and the Neapolitan Boundary. — At one
o'clock in the morning we stopped at Terracina to exchange
carriages, and to have our passports viseed, as we were now to
enter upon the territory of the King of Naples. This ceremo
ny, with that of passing our baggage, took a little time, which
seemed long, as we could obtain no refreshments, and were
compelled to linger in a sorry tavern. When morning returned
we were just coming out from among the mountains. Some of
the more distant and more elevated peaks were clad with snow.
These mountains were in former years the favorite haunts
of the bandits, whose freebooting habits rendered the Terracina
road a terror to travellers. The almost universal use of let
ters of credit, in place of gold and silver, has greatly reduced
the danger of such assaults, although they are far from being
unknown even now. Our courier assured us that he and the
English parties under his charge had been twice robbed, with
pistols at their breasts, when travelling upon this road.
After morning returned, our progress was through a splen
did country, in high cultivation, with groves of oranges, figs, and
pomegranates in constant succession ; and fields of wheat extend
ed far and wide. In the afternoon, on our right, appeared the
beautiful bay and town of Gaeta,* recently, and for a consider
able time, the asylum of Pius IX., during the time when he
feared to return to Rome.
We passed near to the place where Cicero was murdered
by order of Mark Anthony. A monument was erected to his
memory by his freedmen ; and we supposed that a large coni
cal pile near the road might be the one, but we had no
means of ascertaining the certainty. We passed the river
Garigliano on a suspension bridge, and -"soon after entered the
large walled town of Capua, famous in the history of Italy, and
intimately associated with the memory of Hannibal. His con
quering army was enervated by the luxury of the ancient Capua,
whose site was two miles from that of the present town.
* The Cajeta of classical antiquity.

352 Naples.
Pursuing our journey by an inconsiderable village, and
passing through a country perfectly beautiful, on account of its
great fertility and high cultivation, we inferred our approach to
the capital by the increase of travellers on the road, and by
squadrons of cavalry and of artillery, which we met or overtook ;
the men being in full uniform, and mounted on powerful black
horses. Vesuvius, still many miles distant, soon appeared on our left
in bold relief, both grand and beautiful, adorned by a delicate
wreath of smoke, which rose gracefully out of its quiet crater,
and floated away or dissolved in the air. This long-desired
object continued to arrest our eyes, until, with daylight still full
upon us, we drove into the splendid city of —

May 16, 1851.
We rode along the shore of this celebrated bay, the first
sight of which, with Vesuvius swelling above it, filled us -with
enthusiasm ; and passing through the entire length of the grace
ful curve, we were landed in the court of the Hdtel des Etran
gers, where, by the provident care of our courier, excellent
apartments were awaiting our arrival. Our parlor windows
open upon the bay, and overlook the public gardens in the
Strada Reale.
The quiet rest of the ensuing Sabbath was grateful to us
after the exciting scenes of Rome, which for a fortnight had
left us little time for repose, amid the endless succession of inte
resting objects, whose claims to attention far exceeded our time,
and overtasked our physical energies. We attended service at
the chapel of the English Embassy, where we heard a good ser
mon, and saw a considerable congregation, mostly English, of
whom large numbers are always in Naples.
Having dispatched our letters to America, posted up our jour
nals, and been recruited from our fatigues, we were again ready

Naples. 353
to resume our wonted activity ; and, under the guidance of
Antonio, our intelligent valet de place, to open the wonder-book
of Naples. Vesuvius, Herculaneum, Pompeii, and the Bay of
Baiae were, of course, the objects of our first attention and
greatest interest — and, first of all, we drove to Herculaneum
and Pompeii.
The tragic story of these buried towns is now familiar
to all. The vivid romance of Bulwer has made us feel as
if we had known the inhabitants, and almost as though we
had been witnesses of the catastrophe. The story is recorded
not more faithfully by the younger Pliny, in his celebrated letter
to Tacitus, than it-is plainly read in the material evidence, whose
unexpected discovery, almost in our own day, has supplied
both to the antiquarian and the geologist most valued and
truthful evidences — contemporary records, expounding to the
antiquary an interesting chapter of human history, filled
with the minutest details of personal interest; and to the
geologist, the close of one and the commencement of another of
those great cycles of change, whose history, strangely connected
in this instance with the vicissitudes of his own race, engrosses
his delighted attention.
Our road to these ancient towns led us along the shore of the
bay ; and we passed in review the various districts of this motley
town, whose successive quarters, each overlapping the other, ren
der the ride of seven or eight miles along the water, one un
ending street. The stranger seeks in vain for a division line
between Naples proper and Portici, its suburb, and needs to be
told by his commissionaire when he has passed the boundary
of one, and enters on the environs of the next. The noisy
groups of lazzaroni ; the discordant cries of the fish market ; the
jingling bells of gayly-harnessed horses, resplendent with a pro
fusion of brass ; the shouts of the piles of people who cling to
all parts of some two-wheeled volante, drawn furiously along by
one poor over-driven horse ; the frightful dissonance of a donkey
not three feet from your ear, asserting his independence ; the
clamor of countless and undistinguishable hordes of beggars,

354 Naples.
whose plaintive tones 'and dreadful deformities move an unwil
ling compassion — all these, and many other things, addressing
themselves at the same time to all the senses of the distracted
stranger, quite overpower him. Such was our first impression
of this "Beggars' Opera," with its pantomimic, serio-comic actors,
and its strange orchestra of discordant sounds.
On the causeway, as we passed into Portici, we noticed among
the statues of other saints that of Saint Januarius, with his arm
raised in the direction of Vesuvius, to avert its lava currents
from overwhelming the city, of which he is patron. We un
believing, heretical Protestants, were not permitted to witness the
miraculous liquefaction of his saintly blood, so religiously pre
served in vials, with his head in a special chapel, while his
body occupies another mausoleum in the cathedral.
At Portici we paused a few moments to see the palace of
the Neapolitan king, who, since the revolution, takes good care
to keep his sacred person at a respectful distance from his loyal
subjects, in the Villa of Caserta, sixteen miles from Naples.
Several things worthy of notice exist in the halls of this
quadrangular palace. One room was adorned with Naples
porcelain — a sort of pottery no longer made here ; — the walls
and ceilings were lined with it, in tiles ornamented with various
figures both raised and colored. A noble portrait of Napoleon
in imperial robes, of his mother, Letitia, of his brother Joseph,
and several of Murat, his brother-in-law, who was once king of
Naples — serve to commemorate an era of Neapolitan history
which, in contrast with the present wicked and contemptible
dynasty, seems its golden age. Far the most interesting objects
in this palace, however, are the memorials of Pompeii and
Herculaneum, which are very numerous and perfect.
We passed rapidly through Portici, Resina, and Torre* del
* Torre del Greco, a town containing 18,000 people, was overwhelm
ed in 1794 by an eruption of lava from Vesuvius, flowing from the
middle of its western slope, only five miles above the town. The melt
ed torrent buried the place, and inundated the sea, encroaching upon
it one-third of a square mile.

Approach to Pompeii. 355
Greco, which form one long-continued street, lying over Her
culaneum, a large city, whose entombed remains were far be
neath our carriage wheels. Vesuvius was on our left, quiet and
sublime. Clouds veiled its crater from our view, but its vener
able sides were enveloped in the black drapery of its own lava
floods. The currents have often flowed over the road on which
we were travelling. Here and there, the lava had been cut
through in the streets, and it protrudes in black rocky masses,
upon which many of the houses have been erected. Lava
formed the walls of the houses, and the fences around the
fields, and lava, only lava, was every where around us. After a
short interval of cultivated fields, we arrived in Torre del Annun-
ciata, in a street similar to those we had passed, and surrounded
by a country in the highest state of cultivation, where every foot
of the rich volcanic soil is made available. Farm houses and
villas appeared clustering around the eastern and southern foot
of Vesuvius, and creeping up its sloping sides, so reckless are the
people, of past catastrophes, although Herculaneum reposes in
its profound grave, at the foot of the mountain, and the great
sepulchre of Pompeii, with its funereal monuments, is in full
view before them. They have also been very recently warned
again, by the terrific eruption of February, 1850, which, burst
ing out back of Vesuvius, on the east, took an unwonted direc
tion, thus giving another proof that no situation on or near the^
mountain is safe ; but still the inhabitants repose in careless
security. Approach to Pompeii. — As we drove slowly onward, check
ing the horses from time to time, in order to realize the scenes
around us, Antonio, from the coach-box, suddenly exclaimed,
"There is Pompeii!" We eagerly looked, and saw a low,
green ridge of land, covered by grass and shrubs. It appeared
as an extended mound, over which the traveller might have
driven, as thousands have heedlessly done in centuries past, un
conscious that a city of the dead slumbered beneath the hoofs
of the horses. Only a few minutes elapsed, before standing
erect in the carriages, we discerned the still naked heaps of

356 Naples.
pumice that have been thrown out during the excavations;
and immediately after, in breathless silence, we were at the
door of the house of Diomede ! An elegant country-house, a
Roman villa, just outside of the walls of the city, still stands,
almost 1800 years after the great catastrophe. Its columns
are erect, its walls entire, and its open doors seem to invite the
stranger to enter ; but the family are not there, and silence
reigns in the halls of Diomede !
I never before felt as I did when I entered this deserted
house — pensive, solemn, and in full sympathy with the tragical
story. Sentinels still keep these doors ; not the helmeted Roman,
who, firm and unmoved, surveyed the storm of fire but yielded
not to fear, preferring to die at his post,* but Neapolitans station
ed there by the government to prevent invasion ofthe ruins. One
there was, a veteran, whose snowy hair, and visage so deeply
marked by time, made us almost feel as if he must have been pre
sent when the volcanic tempest raged, and had, Salathiel-like,
come down to our time to relate the events of those dreadful days.
But a garrulous guide, who spoke tolerable English, gayly an
nounced that he was a true Maccaroni, placed himself at the
head of our party, and was our Ciceroni through an intensely
interesting day. We mused for a few minutes in the vacant
rooms of the house of Diomede, walked upon the still beautiful
Mosaic pavements and floors, passed through the dormitories,
the triclinium, the impluvium, and the hall for conversation ;
observed the water cistern, and the channels worn in the stone
curb by the friction of the rope, and then descended to the
vaults beneath, in which so many members of the family met
their fate. This gallery is strongly arched with brick, and was
used as a wine cellar, as appears from twenty-five amphorae
still remaining there, and which were found filled with volcanic
matter. On the 24th of August, in the year 79 of our own era, and
* In the PompeUan Museum at Naples, we afterwards saw the skull
of such a, Roman, whose head was still covered by his helmet, and
whose skeleton was found at his station in the gate of Pompeii.

Ruins of Pompeii. 357
not long after mid-day, Vesuvius broke the repose of untold
ages, and resumed, with tragical energy, his ancient reign of
fire, awakening the slumbering echoes of his power with terrible
detonations and fearful earthquakes. A darkness that might
be felt shrouded in the profoundest gloom the mid-day sun, and
ashes fell like snow upon the mountain, the plain, the bays of
Naples and Baiae, and far into the surrounding country. Rain
from the condensed steam of the eruption deluged the whole
district ; torrents of fluid mud, formed by the ashes and water,
swept over every obstruction, and filled to overflowing every de
pression of the surface. The terrified inhabitants, overwhelmed
by superstitious fears, joined the droves of domestic animals,
whose keener instincts had already impelled them to desert a
district filled with sulphureous vapors, and vibrating with omi
nous and unwonted sounds, wandering, they knew not where,
in search of some place where the frightful evidences of the
wrath of the gods might be avoided.
But the family of Diomede sought refuge from the falling
pumice under the strong arch of the wine-cellar, strong enough
to resist and sustain the load of falling materials, but not proof
against the deluge of volcanic mud, whose unexpected inunda
tion brought death to the mistress, her children, and fifteen
female slaves. The record of the manner of their death is,
even now, perfectly legible. The form of the mistress, with
her back and head to the wall, with outstretched aims, is
clearly delineated by the difference of color. Surrounding her
are the impressions of the persons of seventeen others, various
in stature, but all standing, save one infant in arms. When
these silent vaults were excavated, here stood the skeletons of
these unfortunate people, the rich jewels of the mistress and of
her daughter circling the bony fingers and wrists and- neck.
These we afterwards saw in the museum at Naples, the left
humerus of the mother, as also the skull of the daughter,
whose name, Julia, was engraved upon her bracelet. Equally
strange and wonderful was it to see the cast of the bosom of
this Roman matron, taken with lifelike precision, in the soft

358 Naples.
and fluid tufa. Her hand still grasped the purse, whose con
tents are also among the wonderful treasures of the same mu-
' seum. Beyond the garden and the fish-pond, which are con
tiguous to the wine-cellar, there is a gateway where were found
two skeletons, with valuable vessels and money ; one hand held
a rusted key, and the other a bag with coin and cameos, and
vessels of silver and bronze were near. These are believed to
have been the remains of the master Diomede and his servant.
A wrapper contained eighty pieces of silver money, ten of gold,
and some bronze. It appears highly probable that, having
left the family in a place which was believed to be safe, they
were engaged in transporting valuables to a place of deposit,
when they were overtaken by the same deluge which destroyed
their friends.
The water fine to which the fluid magma rose in this quad
rangular vaulted gallery, is still visible upon the walls,* nearly
even with several small apertures through which, as well as
through the door, it probably flowed. It is not unlikely that this
inundation was accompanied by torrents of carbonic acid and
other noxious gases, so abundantly exhaled in more modern
eruptions of Vesuvius, by which these refugees from the dan
gers above ground were perhaps so suddenly asphyxiated as
to remain unmoved in the positions where they were found.
The sudden death of the Elder Pliny, who, his nephew says,
was suffocated by a noxious exhalation upon the same occasion,
and at no great distance from Pompeii, may, with much pro
bability, be ascribed to the same cause.
The facts now detailed clearly show that vast torrents of
mud must have passed through the streets of Pompeii, since dry
ashes and ejections of lapilli and pumice, unaided by water,
could never have found their way into the interior of closed
amphorae, nor made perfect moulds of the human form, nor left
a level water line upon the inner walls of close arched passages.
The shower of materials which buried the city, was mainly
* Twelve to fifteen inches above the tallest head.

Streets of Pompeii. 359
composed of small pieces of white pumice and rounded lapilli
of various colors, interspersed with some large projected
masses of rock, bombs, such as Vesuvius has often thrown
out in later times. These by their fall broke through the
roofs, and, at the places where they struck, depressed the
Mosaic pavements into a concave form, as we saw in several of
the houses. A darker colored sand appears to have alternated
with the pumice, and often forms a distinct and thick layer
upon it. Numerous such alternations have been made out by
the Neapolitan geologists, and we afterward saw the same order
of stratification distinctly in another part of the town, where
fresh excavations were going on. The fresh section here
showed that these loose materials fell much as snow falls in our
northern climates when driven by the wind, being thicker in the
angles than in the centres of the houses, and rising in curves
corresponding to the elevations and depressions of the surface.
Streets of Pompeii. — The celebrated Appian Way
passed by the house of Diomede, and through Pompeii to
Stabiae. The road is now above ground, and is evidently as
perfect as when Pompeii was buried. It is paved with
large blocks of the ancient lava of Mt. Somma, which, of
course, proves the occurrence of earlier eruptions of the volcano,
although at an unknown era. Deep ruts are worn by the wheels
in the solid lava, which is as firm as trap, while the- stones
are strongly marked by the rust of the iron worn off from the
wheel-tires. The furrows prove that the wheels were not more
than four feet apart. This is proved also by the position of the
stepping-stones for crossing the streets, which were so placed
that the wheels passed between them. The stepping stones
were very large, and 2\ or 3 feet long, their longest diameter
coinciding with the direction of the street ; and they were laid
so near to each other that the passengers could pass quite across
the street from one side-walk to the opposite, without stepping
down. There were side-walks in the principal streets, about
three feet wide, and two feet above the pavement. The streets
were paved with the same hard lava rock, and in many places

360 Naples.
it was worn into deep hollows by human feet, thus proving the
high antiquity of the city. The street near the barracks is only
13 feet wide. We passed through one street in which the
pavement was in very bad order ; the ruts were worn irregu
larly and very deep, the stones were tilted out of the proper
level, and there, as sometimes happens in modern cities, the
street commissioners had evidently not done their duty.
Tombs. — The Appian Way, near to Pompeii, but outside of
the walls and immediately contiguous to them, is, as- at Rome,
bordered on both sides by tombs, and in general they are in
good condition, having been preserved during 17 centuries
equally from injuries by the weather and by wanton violation.
They are of marble, and their Latin inscriptions still commemo
rate their tenants. One tomb, constructed in the manner of the
Columbaria, is dedicated to the gladiators, and is decorated
with bas-reliefs representing their combats.
Near the tombs, and outside of the walls, we saw sheds for
the horses of those who arrived after the gates of the city were
closed. No stables have been discovered in the town, but
skeletons of horses were found at this place, where there was a
large tavern.
Pompeii was first discovered in 1748. It lies about twelve
miles southeast from Naples; The town was extremely compact,
and appears to have been only threerfourths of a mile long by
half a mile wide. The houses were1! joined' together. Twenty
streets, which are only 15 feet wide, had been uncovered twenty
years since. Although only one-third part of the city has
been cleared of its covering, five or six hours were industriously
employed by us, with our two guides, in visiting the most in
teresting private dwellings and the public buildings. We were
indeed richly rewarded for our effort. Here we were, walking
in the very streets and on the very pavements on which the
ancient Romans trod; we were surveying the very houses in
which they dwelt ; we saw the vestibules, the impluvium (an
interior and central receptacle for the rain-water from the roofs) ;
their triclinia, or dining halls ; their colonnades, surrounding

Mosaic. 361
an interior open area, in which they walked and conversed with
their families and friends ; the fish ponds, also in an open area ;
the private marble baths ; the kitchens and other arrangements
for culinary purposes ; the gardens in the rear of the houses,
the halls and colonnades opening into the garden, — the whole
forming a domestic dominion secure from public inspection.
All these arrangements were perfectly intelligible to us, and as
we walked from house to house it was not difficult to imagine that
we were making calls, and that the people were not at home.
Mosaic. — Every where, even in the smaller houses, the
floors were adorned with Mosaic ; many of the best designs
have been sent to Naples, but, including what is still covered,
much more remains in place, and not essentially injured.
When it is considered that no melted lava flowed into Pompeii,
but that it was covered solely by a volcanic shower of com
minuted pumice and other pulverulent materials, which accu
mulated until the roofs were crushed inwards by the weight,
it will be easily understood that the Mosaic floors may have
remained for seventeen or eighteen hundred years, substantially
uninjured. The Mosaic of Pompeii is uncovered in many places, and
when the dust is brushed away and the surface is wiped with a
wet cloth, as was done for our gratification, all the original
brightness and beauty of the figures shine forth, and in the
finest patterns, the execution was in a high degree tasteful and
elegant. At the door of the mansion of the JEdile Glaucus, which
was one of the largest and best in the city, there was, in the
vestibule and before entering the house, a very startling Mosaic
figure of a large and powerful dog, secured by a chain around
his neck, but crouching and fierce, as if about to spring upon
the visitor; and immediately before this vigilant sentinel, you
read in large Roman letters, cave canem— beware of the
dog ! The inscription is preserved in the original place where
we saw it, but the dog has been removed to the museum at
Naples. It is still a perfect figure of a Roman dog.
Vol. l— 16

362 Naples.
The Frescoes of Pompeii and Herculaneum, have put us
in possession of very perfect specimens of the skill of the Romans
in the art of painting. The only examples of their pictorial talent
previously known, were the comparatively imperfect decorations
in the Baths of Titus at Rome. In these buried cities nearly
all the walls of the houses are frescoed, and among these, have
been found many superb specimens of ancient art. Most of the
best have been removed to the museum of Naples, but some
of considerable merit still remain in place, and no doubt further
excavations will show numerous others now unknown. The
colors are somewhat faded, but are bright when wet. The
copies in water colors, sold at Naples, give very perfectly the
idea of these frescoes, but with more brilliancy than is possessed
by the original. Many of thes'e figures are nude, although
, many are draped. We were particularly struck with the
singularity of some of the nude volant figures on the walls, hav
ing shoes very much like our modern ones. As the great object
of art is to present nature in her forms of greatest purity and
grace, these nude figures cannot meet with more objections
than their modern representatives. We saw nothing in Pom
peii or Herculaneum, worthy of so much criticism in point
of taste, as may be seen in almost any of the European galleries
of modern painting. Titian's Loves of the Gods in Blenheim
Palace, certainly surpass the ancients in this respect.
In Naples,_ there is in the Musaeo Barbonico a very elegant
room finished entirely in the Pompeiian style.
New Excavations. — An expected visit of the Duke d'Au-
male (son of Louis Philippe, and allied by marriage to the
Royal family of Naples), has been made the occasion of an ad
ditional excavation, which is now being carried on by order of
the king. We thought it rare good fortune, that we could
stand by and see the moving of materials which had not been
disturbed since the catastrophe. They are entirely unconsoli
dated, and are easily moved by the shovel. The accumulations
did not appear to be more than ten feet above the tops of the
houses, but if measured from the level of the streets, they might

New Excavations. 363
have been twenty feet in thickness. In it were distinctly visible
the alternation of fine pumice, coarse pumice, lapilli and dark
colored sand, before mentioned.
We had the pleasure of seeing apartments that had been
recently opened, and of going into several of them. In these,
the pictures are fresh, and far less faded than in those that
have been long exposed. In one of these houses, all the mar
ble figures found around the impluvium, and colonnade, and
fountain, have been allowed to remain intact, as the Romans
left them, when they fled for their lives.
Around the fountain in uJ of these houses, there were
numerous grotesque jets formed of marble, in the shape of mini
ature bulls, ducks and dolphins, and associatea Trjh them was a
Bacchus. A leaden tube which formerly conveyed wate/^V the
fountain, remains in place as it passed through the wall. We
observed, as illustrating the condition of the art of working
this metal among the Romans, that the pipe was not drawn nor
cast, but was made by folding up a sheet into the tubular form,
and closing the joint by a lap without solder. In this house
was a large vaulted music room, the walls of which are nearly
perfect. The object for which the room was constructed, was
sufficiently indicated by figures of musical instruments, and of
persons playing upon them.
Columns were in general use in the better houses, around
the included area, in the gardens, and in other places. In the
best dwellings they are of polished marble, in many they are
stuccoed. Some of the Roman houses, in their most perfect
and uninjured condition, must have been very beautiful, al
though their accommodations were much more limited than
those of modern times. The rooms, — the dormitories especial
ly, were much smaller, and the houses were low, and rarely
rose above two stories. They were so constructed as to admit
of the most perfect domestic seclusion — no eye could scrutinize
the family privacy from the street, or from another house.
Various names have been given to several of the larger and
more beautiful houses in Pompeii, sometimes fanciful, but

364 Naples.
more frequently from some, statue, Mosaic, painting, or other
distinctive work of art found in them, referring, as is sometimes
supposed, to the owner. Thus we saw the houses of the Faun,
of the Medusa, of the three Fountains, and those of Pansa, of
Glaucus, of Sallust, and of Cicero. It is doubtful whether
Cicero had a house at Pompeii, and still more doubtful whether
the one called by his name had any connection with him.
The three fountains in the house of that name, are deco
rated with modem sea- shells, such as now abound in the Medi
terranean, and in a style of patterns still prevalent in Naples.
The fountains in the tw ^s newly exposed were very ele
gant, and in perfect condition.
The Porum was large and handsome, and surrounded
' l„n double rows of columns for a covered colonnade. In con
nection with it, was a temple of Jupiter, and another opposite
to it, of Venus, both decorated with massive monolithic columns.
Half-dressed blocks of marble and portions of columns he on
the ground in the Forum, where they were in process of prepara
tion, to repair the injuries done to the building by the shocks
of an earthquake, before the destructive eruption. Numerous
dislocated and propped walls in the city bear testimony to the
same event, which occurred in the year 63.
Connected with the Forum, was the Basilica or hall of jus
tice, a structure adorned with columns, and provided with an
elevated tribune for the Judges. Vaulted apartments beneath,
were used as a prison, communicating by a circular opening in
the crown of the arch, with the hall above. In this prison,
which we entered, were found three skeletons of prisoners, ironed
to the floor, doubtless waiting their examination at the time of
the catastrophe, which so unexpectedly changed the venue of
their trial to another bar !
Many acres are inclosed by the various structures of the
Forum, whose very ruins, with their numerous columns, make a
grand appearance. Among the ruins, are those of a temple to
jSCsculapius, one for Hercules, and another for Fortune.
Numerous monuments and inscriptions in Pompeii, indicate

The Theatres. 365
the Greek origin of the original colony, and the Egyptian customs
and society which preceded the Roman dynasty. The temple of
Isis still shows its sacrificial altar, and inscriptions in Egyptian
characters cover the columns. Some of the largest and most
beautiful of the silver vessels in the museum at Naples, were
found in this temple. Curiously enough, as we entered these
ancient precincts, in which the serpent was held sacred, a snake,
reputed by the guide as venomous, crossing our path, was made
a victim, which we offered on the altar.
Beneath a superb portico in the street of the tombs, the
skeletons of a female and several children were discovered ; in
the street near the temple of Isis, another skeleton was found
at the depth of ten feet, and below it, a large collection of gold
and silver medals in perfect preservation, chiefly of the reign of
Domitian. The Theatres, whose remains are distinct, are the comic,
the tragic, and the amphitheatre. They were lined with pol
ished marble, and were, in every way, highly finished and
elegant. Of the two former, the entire plan and the greater
part of the structure are visible, and most of the seats are in
place. The Amphitheatre was in a remote part of the city, near
the eastern wall. It has undergone so little dilapidation, that
it appears almost perfect. We approached it by ascending the
ground until we were quite at the top, and we then descended^
by the stone seats, quite to the arena, which, by pacing, we found j
to be 240 feet by 120. From the arena we looked up over the-1'
entire circuit and elevation of the seats, which are almost per
fectly preserved — thanks to the sepulture of 1700 years. Had
this amphitheatre been in the midst of Naples, as the Coliseum
was at Rome, it would, no doubt, have fared as ill at the hands
of the architects. It-was easy for us now to people it in imagi
nation, with the thousands of Romans who have so often gazed
and applauded from these seats, while blood, both brute and
human, was flowing in the arena where we were standing.
•Snch may have been the scenes when the tempest of fire broke

366 Naples.
forth, for the people of Pompeii are said to have been then en
gaged in the amphitheatre.
Public Baths. — There are two buildings for public baths,
which are well preserved ; the bronze seats and braziers still re
main in them. For men, there was a common bath, circular and
large enough for entire immersion ; it is of marble, and is now
in good condition. The dome, or ceiling, has in part fallen in,
but the portion over the bath is preserved. We measured the
room and found it to be 60 feet by 20. There was another
bath for women, contiguous to this, but at a proper distance.
This marble bath is quite perfect, and the room being entirely
arched has been preserved uninjured. It is most interesting.
There is a living fountain at one end, and there was an arrange
ment, whose object is even now quite apparent, for warming
the room by hot air or steam. Here, in this ancient ladies'
bath, we dined upon our stores brought out from Naples. In
truding upon this retreat, once so sacred, we seated ourselves
quite conveniently, on the side of the bath, in a fine frescoed
room of 60 feet by 16. This was the most perfect building that
we saw in Pompeii.
Fountain and River. — In this vicinity, there is a living
fountain still abundant, and the river Sarno runs at this mo
ment beneath Pompeii. Through a wide opening we saw its
copious and lively stream still flowing in its ancient channel,
apparently undisturbed by volcanic and earthquake convulsions.
The Walls of Pompeii are still in good condition ; they were
three miles* in circuit, from 18 to 20 feet high, and 20 feet thick.
Seven gates have been discovered ; the gate of Herculaneum, of
Vesuvius, of Capua, of Nola, of Sarno, of Stabiae, and- of the
theatres. The sites of nine towers have been ascertained. We
ascended the wall by stairs of stone, doubtless coeval with the
wall itself : the view was imposing. Vesuvius rose above the
desolated city, looking down upon its naked walls and roofless
houses. The volcanic mound still covers two-thirds of the city,
and nothing on its upper surface tells of what lies below. It
* Implying a mile for the diameter of the city.

Hollow Walls. 367
were greatly to be desired, that an enlightened and energetic gov
ernment, with adequate means, would uncover the entire city,
with its numerous hidden works of art and materials of history.
The Baker's Shop, with his oven of arched and modern
form, the tub of stone in which he wet his broom, and the hour
glass-shaped mills of hard lava for grinding the grain, — we saw
all perfect. There were mills of two sizes — one small, such as
could be turned by hand, as when " two women were grinding
at the mill," and one much larger, and provided with square
holes to receive the ends of levers, requiring, of course, much
more force to turn them, and doubtless worked by men.
The shops of the wine and oil merchants were provided
with large amphorae set in masonry under the counter, for storing
those fluids, and numerous other arrangements for the conve
nience of the occupants were visible.
Glass. — In one house we saw a small circular window, in
which part of the glass plate which originally filled it still re
mains. One other similar glass is said to have been found, al
though shutters were in general use for most of the windows.
As there were no windows, as with us, opening upon the street,
and all the doors and windows of the house opened upon private
courts and gardens, there was in this mild and equable climate
far less occasion for the use of glass than might seem at first
requisite. That they understood the manufacture of glass, and
how to color it, by the use of the oxides of cobalt and copper, is
abundantly proved by the remains of this ancient art now inj
the Barbonico Museum, at Naples.
Hollow Walls. — One peculiarity in the constructiqn. of
the Pompeiian houses favors the removal and preservation of
the frescoes. The walls upon which the pictures are painted
are not solid, but the frescoed surface is supported by studs of
masonry or iron, at a distance of some four or five inches in
front of the brick walls. Security from dampness is thus ob
tained, and the task of removing the valued surface much sim
plified and facilitated.
The declining sun still found us still lingering on the seats

368 Naples.
of the amphitheatre, at the remotest angle of the city wall,
dwelling with delight upon these memorials of the past, and
speculating upon the probability of renewed activity in Vesuvius,
whose quiet blue cone rose over our right shoulders crowned
with a soft cloud of vapor. As we made a reluctant retreat to
our carriage, we were moved both to pity and mirth by the
grotesque figure of a quaint old man, almost nude, who made
every effort to attract our attention by playing -vigorously upon
a sort of flageolet, and dancing with much gesticulation, with
one lame leg, to the sound of his own music. It was late in
the evening of this most interesting day when we reached the
door of our hotel, long after darkness had hidden the landscape.

%\t Stain.
The Mus^EO Borbonico contains all the most choice and
valued works of art and objects of interest which the excava
tions at Herculaneum and Pompeii have brought to light.
To this we repaired on the day following our visit to Pompeii,
to follow up our researches into the details of these most inter
esting discoveries.
Here we saw the golden ornaments found upon the skele
tons in the house of Diomede, as before mentioned, and many
others also. One pair of bracelets weighed a pound each. As
for the workmanship, all that was said of the Etruscan golden
ornaments is substantially true of the Pompeiian. The ladies
of these cities were certainly well provided with costly jewelry,
both of pure gold and of the same metal set with precious
stones. There was one ribbon of wrought gold. Ring stones
and brooches without number are preserved here, and among
the cameos in agate, are the largest as well as the smallest and
most exquisite of these elaborate works of art ever found. Many
of the latter can be appreciated only when examined under a
strong magnifier.

The Museum. 369
Utensils in earthen ware are abundant, but porcelain
seems to have been unknown to the Romans. Blown and
moulded glass of various forms and colors, and designed for va
rious uses, is also common. Pickle jars and olive jars, still re
taining their preserved fruits in good condition, were found, and
others contained cosmetics or colors. One elegant vase, of the
color of lapis-luzuli, has figures in white enamel cut on its sides.
reminding us of the celebrated Portland Vase.
The Romans seldom employed iron for culinary purposes,
but almost every vessel of this description was fashioned from
bronze. A very extensive collection is found in this Museum,
reproducing nearly all our modern metallic vessels both of util
ity and ornament. They are generally elegant in form, and are
often ornamented with artistic designs, especially in the attach
ment of the spouts, handles, feet or other prominent parts.
They are generally also in a remarkable state of preservation,
being for the most part merely covered by a thin coating of
greenish rust, easily removed. Sometimes, however, they are
corroded through and through with holes.
Among the bronze vessels in the collection is one showing
that the Romans were well acquainted with the modern device
of a heater to keep liquids hot in a large vessel. It is quite on
the model of the coffee urn of our day. They also employed,
as is evident, steam and hot water to keep dishes hot ; for there
is a very pretty affair in bronze, like a shallow pan, to hold
water, set on legs, with a fire beneath, and provided with valves
for the escape of steam.
Among the objects most frequently found in Pompeii aw
fishing nets and tackle, showing the habits of the people in this
particular to be similar to those of the modern towns of the
same coast, although now Pompeii is a mile from the sea.
The iron rings in the walls for fastening vessels were also
found, and prove still more conclusively the accumulations in
1700 years. Two vases were discovered in Pompeii full of
water ; in one it was tasteless and limpid, and in the other
brown and alkaline. Among the things preserved in the buried
Vol. i.— 16*

370 Naples.
cities were walnuts, chestnuts, almonds, dates, dried figs, prunes,
corn, oil, peas, lentils, pies, and hams.
Papyri were found in large numbers, but the rolls were
blackened, as were the timber and the corn, as vegetables are
by inhumation in coal beds.
Beside the pickles, and olives, and roe of fish, already men
tioned, we saw in a glass globe, in this part of the Museum,
wheat, and barley also, blackened by age and dampness. The
loaves of bread, bearing the baker's stamp, which were found in
the shop already named, are singularly perfect, showing distinctly
the lines of quartering in which the loaf was designed to be cut.
The Works of Art found in Herculaneum are in general
much better than those from Pompeii, and every external sign
proves it to have been a town of more refinement and wealth
than its neighbor. Numerous statues in bronze and marble
have been collected from these cities, and a large hall in the
Museum is devoted to their exhibition. Many are mythologi
cal, but busts and statues of the several Emperors are also com
mon. One bronze horse, considerably injured and corroded,
has been found, and an admirable bronze Hercules.
The Candelabra were numerous and elegant. One we
observed fitted to take apart for the convenience of travelling ;
its sliding rod drops into a case or sheath, and the tripod foot
folds together as snugly as the wing of a bird. A very beauti
ful candelabrum, taken from the house of Diomede, has a basis
formed of a small flat table of bronze standing upon feet. It
is elegantly inlaid with silver in the form of a running vine and
of leaves ; some portions have been burnished, to give an idea
of its original beauty. A perpendicular rod rises three feet in
height, and supports a cross upon which are suspended four
lamps. All the parts are preserved ; and were this tasteful can
delabrum put in order and burnished, it would be a fine form for
our modern artists to copy, who, indeed, often profit by ancient
models. The Roman Steelyards had a scale suspended so as to
receive the thing to be weighed, and the weight slid, as with

The Museum. 371
us, upon a graduated beam ; in one the counterpoise is fashioned
into an elegant female head. There is a collection of surgical
instruments, some of them very similar to those used at the
present day. Iron probes, iron teeth extractors, elevators for
the operation of trepanning, a cauterizing iron, lancets, cath
eters, amputating instruments, spatulas and obstetric forceps.
Along with these things are rolls of the apothecary, ready to
be divided into pills.
The articles ofthe toilet are abundant ; pins of ivory in large
numbers and great variety for the hair ; combs, curling-tongs,
boxes for perfumes and rouge, which is preserved in a small
glass bottle ; mirrors of metal, small, but sufficient for a lady's
face, and reflectors, to be used probably in a position to give sea
sonable notice of the approach of a visitor from the vestibule, sim
ilar to the arrangement now common in Holland and Germany.
Numerous small objects attracted our attention, among
which were the ivory dice, and tickets of bone or ivory for admis
sion to the theatre, marked and numbered. Musical instru
ments were common ; among them numerous flutes or flageolets,
prepared from bone. Numerous bronze penates, truly dii mi-
nores, often less than a finger's length in height, some partly
finished, are to be seen in the Museum at Naples.
I have already alluded to an apartment finished in the
style of an ancient Roman house. This is in the extreme end
of one of the long suites of rooms, in the Musseo Barbonico.
The sky blue panels have each, in the centre, a female figure,
volant or quiet ; the upper part of the side walls, and of the
dome, is divided into compartments, which are decorated by
colored lines and forms of great beauty, the entire effect of
which is charming. The eye delights to dwell upon them, and
would never be tired, because the beauty, although exquisite,
is simple and tasteful.
We saw in the museum as already mentioned the helmet and
skull of the Roman sentinel found at his post in the city gate at
Pompeii, with his short sword by his side; there, too, was the
omplete armor of a Roman knight with a decorated and crested

372 Naples.
helmet, with figures embossed upon the breast-plate, and the
coverings of the arms and limbs. We must not forget the iron
stocks for punishment. A bar of iron or bronze of great weight
had metallic projections standing upwards, between which the
feet were placed, and secured by a cross pin. It does not ap
pear that the head was pinioned, as in modem times ; but we
could well understand how the feet of the Apostles were render
ed lame by confinement in the Roman stocks.
The hall of ancient sculpture, chiefly from Pompeii and
Herculaneum, with some figures from Rome, powerfully at
tracted our attention.
These sculptures, usually of full size, and sometimes colossal,
are rerj fine. Excellent, manly forms, and noble, elevated
features of men, and of women, worthy of such companions,
with great variety of characteristic attitude, and in general, in
full costume, served to convey to us, as we may believe, a
very perfect idea of the personal appearance of Roman citizens
of that age. The family of Balbus found in Herculaneum,
is particularly interesting. It is composed of the father, a noble
figure, the mother, equally impressive, and sons and daughters
worthy of such parentage. Their features are calm and mild.
It is a most interesting group, and in perfect preservation.
The moral and intellectual expression of the figures in these
rooms — through a long series of apartments and a host of figures
— is as various as that of living people.
The Farnesian Bull. — It is convenient to introduce this
inimitable piece of sculpture in this place, although it was not
found interred in Pompeii or Herculaneum, but buried among
the ruins of the Baths of Caracalla.
A large bull, of perfect and beautiful form, is rearing upon
his1 hind legs, as if about to bound away in his course ; but this
he is prevented from doing, as he is powerfully held by the
horns and the nose by two resolute athletic young men, one on
each side, who have him in such durance that his massive neck
is wrinkled in large folds, as he turns his head backward in his
efforts to escape from their grasp. The cause of the struggle

Herculaneum. 373
becomes apparent, when we glance at a fine female form re
cumbent, and see that her abundant tresses are interwoven with
the strands of a rope which is noosed around the horns of the
bull, and it flashes at once on the mind, that should the mad
dened animal escape from his keepers, she will be quickly torn
in pieces. Her noble sons have, in a critical moment, sprung
forward to her rescue, and are just able to arrest her impend
ing fate. Filial love proves to be stronger than disapprobation
of an imputed fault, for which their mother was to have been
immolated by this horrible death. In such a crisis we are not
careful to balance the moral question — we instinctively applaud
the filial piety, and do not ask for the spirit of Brutus. This
wonderful group was sculptured out of a single block of mar
ble of nine feet eight inches by thirteen feet, by Appollonius
and Tauriscus, two artists in Greece, from which country it
was brought, to grace the Baths of Caracalla. It is truly
wonderful that such a ponderous mass, embracing so many
figures, could be brought over seas, from a distant country, to
Rome, and again be transported from that city to Naples, with
out injury, after being buried for fifteen centuries in the Baths
of Caracalla.
Jeratawm.
The same eruption which destroyed Pompeii, Stabiae, Oplon-
tia, and Teglanum, entombed Herculaneum also. Its site was,
however, unknown, as well as that of the other buried towns ;
and the fatal event is only occasionally alluded to by the Ro
man writers. Cuneta jacent flammis et tristi mersa favilla. — Martial.
In the year 63, an earthquake had shattered these cities — a
precursor of their coming doom. In 1711, a peasant, in digging
a well, discovered, at twenty feet depth, pieces of colored mar
ble. In 1713, the digging being continued, they struck down
into a temple, and discovered the statues of Cleopatra and Her-

374 Naples.
cules, and subsequent explorations disclosed the theatre. Our
time being very fully occupied with Pompeii on the day when
we were there, we reserved to another opportunity a visit to
Herculaneum. We descended quite conveniently down steps
of stone, and arrived at the pit of the theatre, seventy-nine
feet below the level of the main street of Portici, and Torre del
Greco. With a guide, we proceeded, by the light of candles
and torches, until we came to this subterranean theatre, which ¦
had been filled with volcanic materials. I do not call it lava,
because there is every reason to believe that, like Pompeii,
Herculaneum was buried by pumice, cinders, ashes, lapilli, and
sand. There has been much discussion on this subject ; but had
the buildings of Herculaneum been inclosed in heated lava, it
is obvious that every fresco painting and marble would have
been destroyed, and much more, the numerous papyri and other
substances of an organic character, which have been found
there. Now it happens that the frescoes of Herculaneum, so far
as it has been uncovered, are not only of a higher character in
respect of art than those in Pompeii, but also in better preserva
tion. The solidity of the material enveloping Herculaneum is
easily understood, when we remember that it has been for over
1700 years under the enormous pressure of seventy or eighty
feet of superincumbent rock. Since the catastrophe of August,
a. d. 79, numerous flows of molten lava have passed over the
site of Herculaneum ; and these successive accumulations have
amounted to the thickness just named. Add the effects of wa
ter, dissolving lime and silica, and infiltrating these materials
among the loose pumice, and we see cause enough to account for
the solidification of these loose materials. Moreover, no sluggish
and semi-viscid lava (such as the Vesuvian lavas a short distance
from their outlet always are), could ever have entered all the
intricate passages of the theatre and other buildings, while a
fluid magma of volcanic mud would act in the same situation
just as it is now found, like plaster of Paris in a mould.
When we see with what labor and expense the excavations
have been made in Herculaneum, and how difficult it is to dis-

Herculaneum. 375
pose of the materials, which must be borne a long way through
narrow passages like the galleries of a mine, and raised nearly
100 feet to the surface, where a populous town forbids the ac
cumulation of rubbish ; we are the more easily reconciled to the
suspension of the labor, and to the throwing of the fragments
into cavities that had been previously excavated, and from
which all interesting matters had been removed.
Discoveries in Herculaneum have been very numerous,
but are so similar to those made in Pompeii that it is unneces
sary to go much into detail beyond what has been already
mentioned. This city being, in fact, contemporary with Pompeii, we
should, of course, expect to find great similarity. It would
seem, however, to have been a grander city, and probably more
populous. It has been computed that the theatre would con
tain 10,000 people, which would imply a large population.
Two temples were discovered — one of them 150 feet by 60.
This contained a statue of Jupiter. Opposite to this was
another building of 228 feet by 132, supposed to have
been constructed for the courts of justice. It had a colonnade
supporting a portico ; its pavement was of marble, its walls
were frescoed, and there were bronze statues standing between
the 42 columns that supported the roof.
The Theatre is now the only public place that can be seen
in Herculaneum, and the excavations have brought its form
very distinctly into view. Its marble seats and the pit have
been so far cleared, that we distinctly comprehend the design
and plan. The galleries of access from the streets, and some
of the rooms that were appendages of the theatre, have been
opened. It appears to have had two principal gates and seven
entrances, called vomitories.
Many statues, and mosaics, and frescoes have been found in
Herculaneum, and some of them, especially the statues, are of
surpassing beauty.
We were desirous to see the famed impression of a mask,
and by holding a candle near to it the form could be distinctly

376 Naples.
seen. The impression is in concave, and is that of a strongly
marked face of an adult ; the copy is well defined, and corres
ponds perfectly with a moulding made by soft aqueous mate
rials, and not at all to one made by lava.
The Well, by which the light was originally let down
upon the theatre, of course attracted our attention. It is now
enlarged into a pit of 15 to 20 feet in diameter, and narrowed
towards the bottom to the size of a common well ; it descends
far below the bottom of the theatre, and, like other wells, con
tains water. A flood of light flows down through this ori
fice ; and it is cheering to pass from the dark chambers of the
theatre, to look up again upon the light of heaven. The sub
terranean walk, aided by candles, of which each person carries
one, is, however, far from being unpleasant. Steps are cut in
the solid mass, all obstacles are cleared away, and although we
find it cool and damp, it is not gloomy, but it is in a high de
gree solemn and impressive. We are walking in an ancient
tomb — the tomb of a buried city — a city which was large and
'populous. It was active with pleasure and business long before
our Saviour was on earth, and it was overwhelmed while some
of his Apostles were still alive. How different was our situa-
-tion here and at Pompeii. In the latter city we walked the
streets in open day and on the common level ; here, we were
deep down in a stony sepulchre, the mansions of the departed
were all around us, but they were wrapped in solid rock. The
rumbling of the carriages in the streets of another city, whose
busy population was passing nearly 100 feet above our heads,
was loud and incessant. It was an earthquake from above, and
we could easily understand how the earthquake from below
should so readily propagate its vibrations through many miles,
or hundreds of miles, of solid materials.
Among the interesting places heretofore excavated, but now
filled again, were the Basilica, the market, the scholae, a Colum
barium, and the so-called villa of Aristides, in which papyrus,
bronzes, rare mosaics, and all things that attested to the wealth
and taste of the proprietor were found. In excavations made

Herculaneum. 377
prior to 1728 they found the most splendid house of the
ancients that had ever been seen by modern eyes.
A great work on Herculaneum was published by royal au
thority, in the 38 years intervening between 1754 and 1792, in
nine folio volumes, including the pictures, lamps, bronzes, and
candelabra; 738 pictures were named in the catalogue, and
the other articles were proportionally numerous. The work
was presented, by royal munificence, to the principal public
libraries of Europe.
Both Herculaneum and Pompeii were mentioned with
commendation by Cicero. Both appear to have been favorite
residences of the opulent Romans ; both towns were in the first
class of provincial cities, and Herculaneum especially was
adorned by many villas. They had all the public establish
ments that were usual in Rome. Indeed the entire circuit,
from Cape Misenum around through the towns and villages
of the Bay of Baiae, and onward through Naples to Hercu
laneum, and Pompeii, and Stabiae, appears to have been within
the range of Roman sumptuousness, and a cherished resort for
rural retirement from the eternal city.
Papyri. — The papyri of Pompeii are generally illegible,
being penetrated by the pulverulent material, which, aided by
water, had usurped the place of the vegetable matter, or as
similated it to coal ; a portion of it was found to be soluble in
naphtha. Those buried in Herculaneum were not penetrated
by the enveloping matter ; and the inscriptions, although black
like tinder, could still be read, as writing can often be seen
upon burnt paper. The papyri MSS. were generally written in
Greek ; a few are in Latin. There is much variety of chirogra-
phy, and there are many erasures. Tickets were attached to
the bundles, stating the title of the work. In a single villa in
Herculaneum were found 1696 rolls of papyrus, of the 1800
thus far known. In 1819, 407 of the 1696 had been un
rolled, of which only 88 were legible ; 24 had been sent as
presents to foreign princes ; of the remaining 1265, only from
80 to 120 were in a state to promise any success, according to

378 Naples.
the chemical method at that time recommended by Sir Hum
phrey Davy. The titles of 400 of those least injured, which
have been read, although new are unimportant — music, rhetoric,
and cookery being the chief subjects. There are two volumes
of Epicurus on Nature, and there are other works by that
school. The rolls, in their coiled condition, were scarcely a
span long, and two or three inches thick ; they were made of
pieces of Egyptian papyrus, glued together ; some of the rolls
were, when extended, 40 or 50 feet long. The method found
most successful for unrolling the papyri is to suspend them by
silk cords in a glass case ; and by attaching the delicate lining
membrane of some species of bird to the back, with the aid of
silken cords and regulated weights suspended by pulleys, gravity
slowly unfolds the brittle tissue at a rate of almost inappreciable
tardiness. We were permitted to see this curious process.
Remarks. — As a traveller, no scenes of my life have ever in
terested me so much as those in which we have been for several
weeks intensely engaged. We have been perusing the records of
most important events — the history of individuals and their coun
try — records not inscribed on paper, or parchment, or papyrus,
but engraven in solid materials which still endure, despite of
time and the elements, and even of the barbarism of war — re
cords of a great nation now swept from the earth.
The classical studies of our youth make us more or less ac
quainted with the learning of the Romans, with their eloquent
orators and historians, with their beautiful poetry, then- rhetori
cal lore, their moral disquisitions and sentiments, and in no
small degree with their domestic and social manners. But the
resurrection of these cities from their forgotten tombs, has
brought Roman life vividly before us in their family scenes,
and at the period of their greatest power, and luxury, and
glory. There is indeed much in them to approve and admire,
and much that is worthy of imitation. Their defects and
errors arose simply from a false religion ; and although it is
probable that their enlightened men did not believe in all the
fables of then- mythology, it is obvious that deities such as they

Stabile. 379
professed to worship could not have produced a good moral
influence : — " Gods partial, vengeful, changeful, and unjust,
Whose attributes are rage, revenge, and lust;'-
and the effect of such deities was but too plainly manifest in
the national morals and in the productions of the fine arts.

J&taW*;
A little further from Vesuvius than Pompeii, but in the
same direction, was Stabiae, which was covered at the same
time with the other cities. The town of Castel del Mare is
built over a portion of it. A part of Stabiae was excavated,
but has been covered again, so that at present there is
nothing of it to be seen. Some manuscripts on papyrus were
found there, as at Herculaneum, but very few skeletons have
been discovered ; it is probable that most of the inhabitants
had time to make their escape. I have elsewhere alluded to
the death of the elder Pliny, which happened here. As com
mander of the Roman fleet, he was stationed on the opposite
side ofthe bay, at Cape Misenum; but the splendid outburst of
Vesuvius, then novel, induced him, prompted by his humanity
and zeal in natural science, to cross over with a few attendants ;
he approached too near, and was constrained to remain over
night. Being corpulent and of an asthmatic habit, he was
suffocated by the deadly gases exhaled in the volcanic tempest,
which proved too much for his peculiar condition, and he died
on the spot. The affecting and beautiful narrative written by
his nephew, the younger Pliny, addressed to the historian Taci
tus, is familiar to the readers of Roman hterature, and can never
be perused without a deep and painful interest.

«
380 Naples.

May 25, 1851.
To ascend Mount Vesuvius was a pleasure I had never ex
pected to enjoy. I had most carefully studied its history, and
watched its movements for fifty years, and was therefore fully
prepared not only to understand its teachings, but to enjoy the
gratification of seeing this classical volcano.
The Road up the Mountain, from Resina to the Hermi
tage, is one of the few good things for which the traveller feels
disposed to thank the Neapolitan King. It affords in its zig
zag course numerous sections in the accumulations of volcanic
sand and tufa, which are spread in so many hillocks over the
flanks of this mountain, sometimes 50 to 100 feet high. Soon
after leaving the main road through the town of Resina, we
made a turn to the left at right angles, and observed on both
sides of the mountain road which we were now ascending, an
immense ocean of lava, which, in 1774, deluged these fair fields
and invaded the town. It lies in ragged, congealed billows,
black and frowning, and very little decomposed during 77
years. It looks now as if ten times that period would not
suffice to break it down and turn it into soil. The current
seems to have descended from a fissure in the side of the
mountain, now concealed by its blackened ruins ; and we
thought that it flowed through a deep gorge in the banks of
loose materials, where the lava is still apparent, and then spread
to a great width on the right and left.
Volcanic Hills. — Leaving this vast flow of lava, wo
soon began to pass over the volcanic hills before mentioned,
through which sections were made by the engineers in con
structing this important work. The loose materials of these
hills are piled upon the flanks of Vesuvius in masses, rising to
the dignity of considerable hills, symmetrically shaped, and com
posed of lapilli, pumice, and volcanic sand, loosely aggregated

Mount "Vesuvius.

Vesuvius. 38i
as they fell from the crater. They enabled us to understand
how such materials, aided by wind and floods of condensed
steam, might easily entomb the buried towns which we had al
ready studied.
The quantity of loose materials in these mountain-masses, did
not surprise us so much as their almost uniform stratification.
The an-angement in layers was so regular, and often delicate, that
it compared well with known deposits from water. There was
every variety between coarse gravelly pumice and fine sand
and powder ; there were also layers running obliquely, and cur
vatures and flexions, produced by local circumstances, occasion
ally sweeping away in dome-shaped curves, as if copying some
hill beneath.
If we should imagine that mountain floods could have been
concerned in forming these deposits, we must remember that
they could only hurry along loose materials, throwing them
here and there, without order, and leaving them in confusion —
and rains would cut and furrow the masses, and transport the
loosened substances further down the declivity. It would there
fore appear that a degree of caution is required, as to attribut
ing stratification, invariably, to water ; and that matters ejected
from volcanoes, either submarine or rising out of the water,
and standing in it, may assume the stratified form from the
joint agency of both causes. Speculations like these were en
tertained by some of us as we ascended to the hermitage.
Observatory. — The road which I have desoribed, was con
structed to reach an Observatory, built some seven years ago, up
on the flanks of Vesuvius, by the King of Naples, at the suggestion
of Prof. Melloni, the most distinguished of all the Italian men
of science.- The object of the Observatory was to conduct ex
periments in meteorology, and especially in reference to the
heat of the sun's rays. Prof. Melloni superintended the con
struction of the Observatory, which was to be conducted under
his superintendence, but falling under the suspicion of this most
despotic king, as being possessed of republican tendencies, he
was removed from his place in the University, and the completion

382 Naples.
of the Observatory abandoned, so that it stands now a monument
of the intolerance of the most detested of all living monarchs.
Some of us have had most agreeable intercourse with Prof Mel
loni, who lives a short distance from Naples, amusing himself
in his suspension of duty, by raising silk-worms and cultivating
a large garden. His expulsion from the University deprived
him of all instruments and means of research, and suspended
the publication of his treatise on Heat, the first volume of which
only has appeared. He married an English wife, and we urged
them to seek, in England or America, an asylum where his
wonderful researches might be resumed without the fear of
royal edicts from a monarch, whose glory consists in disgracing
his illustrious subjects.
Our Mountain Guides were awaiting our arrival at the
Hermitage, a stone house, not far from the Observatory, and
more than half-way up the mountain. Salvator, a well known
and experienced chief guide, had been engaged, and with his
corps of assistants, was already on the ground, ais well as a crowd
of other guides seeking employment. Travellers leave their car
riages here, and proceed to the foot of the cone, mounted upou
horses and mules, which are kept at the Hermitage for their ac
commodation. Fortunately, we had nothing to do but to stand
by and enjoy the scene, while Francois our courier, and Salva
tor the guide, aided by Antonio the valet, fought the noisy bat
tle of words with the rival guides. No people scold so loudly
and vociferate so lustily, as the Italians of the lower class. The
scene, while we were mounting, was one to be witnessed no
where but in Italy. What with the obstreperous shouting of
the men managing the animals, the contentions of rival guides,
the angry words of our fiery courier, who laid about him with
gesticulations which seemed almost blows, and our own
shouts of laughter at the melee, the scene approached so nearly
to a riot, that in any other country, we might have been properly
arrested as disturbers of the peace. Finally, the contention
ceased, and the eight men who were to carry the ladies set off,
with their chairs mounted on poles. One man was appointed to

Vesuvius. 383
each gentleman of the party. Several more conveyed the
provision baskets, and so we all got under way for the cone,
twenty-seven persons all told. There is no necessity for so many
attendants, but immemorial custom and the desire for gain, im
parts a boldness to the demands made upon your patience and
your purse, and it is of little use to resist the swarms of retain
ers that wish to follow the traveller.
Ride to the Cone. — Behold us now, ladies included, all
mounted on horses, with primitive saddles, bridles, and halters,
and arranged single file, along the bridle path worn in the lava by
innumerable hoofs ; but the horses, sure of foot, from the effect
of mountain training, carried us safely over a rough field of lava
a mile and a half or more, to the foot of the precipitous ascent.
The height of Vesuvius from the foot* of the cone of cin
ders is about 1500 feet, but the steepness of the slope, and more
than all, the loose and very sharp angular nature of the mate
rials, make this ascent one of great labor, to those accustomed
only to smooth walking. Here the zeal of ' the guides, who
are familiar with the cone, and sometimes ascend it thrice in
one day, was in advance of our activity.
In a few minutes the ladies, seated in rough arm-chairs
fitted on poles, and sustained on stout shoulders, were
seen climbing on proxy feet over the rough lava. In the
mean time, our young gentlemen, with ardor not yet tem
pered by experience, though often cautioned by me to adopt
the Latin rule, "festina lente," and to stop frequently, were seen
panting with premature fatigue and short breathing.
For myself, adventures in mountains were not new to
me, and although nearly fourteen years had elapsed since I last
ascended a very high mountain, I had no hesitation in attempt
ing the ascent of Vesuvius. Leaving my younger friends to
take their own course, I selected a vigorous young mountaineer
who buckled a strap over his shoulder, while I took hold of a
loop fitted for one hand, and with the other I grasped an iron-
shod pike. My mountaineer not being accustomed to modera-
* From base of the mountain, 3600 feet.

384 , Naples.
tion, proceeded at first so rapidly through the deep volcanic
sand, that I soon began to pant, when Antonio made him un
derstand that he must ascend very slowly, and stop whenever
I gave the word.
I am thus particular, because it may be of use to others :
the great secret of ascending mountains, is to proceed very slow
ly, and to stop and sit down frequently, until the natural quiet
respiration and circulation of the blood and tone of the muscles
are recovered ; by proceeding in this manner, even high moun
tains may be scaled without exhaustion.
We at first ascended during three minutes, by the watch,
'.. and then rested for two minutes. Soon I began to gain, and usu
ally went on four to five minutes, and rested on a block of lava
one or two minutes; thus I economized my power, and found
it increasing to the end. We soon left the line of volcanic
sand and ashes, which form a distinct stream down the cone,
a<nd took to the rough pointed lava, most of which is in de
tached fragments, large and small. By placing our feet with
care among these ragged masses, we usually obtained a firm
foothold, and rarely slipped backward, although the angle of
the slope of ascent was, I suppose, at least forty-five degrees.
The party were at the top in the usual time of an hour of
very laborious effort. I was fifteen or twenty minutes later, but
arrived fresh, and without exhaustion. We found Two new Cra
ters which were formed by the eruption of February, 1850,
in place of the single one before existing. I hastened,
aided by the guide, to look into them, as they were at
that time quiet. The two craters are contiguous to each
other, and cover in part the site of the old crater. The
smaller one is easily accessible. Its lip is but a little elevated
above the general surface of the top of the mountain, and we
approached it without difficulty. The figure of this crater is
that of a beautifully symmetrical inverted cone, three to four
hundred feet deep. Smoke was rising from it ; but it did not
prevent our seeing the opposite side, which presented a bril
liant bank of sulphur, of a bright yellow, inaccessible, owing to

Vesuvius. 385
the direction of the wind. The igneous action in this crater
threw out large volumes of steam, mixed with sulphurous acid
gas. This was what is usually called smoke. The wind eddy
ing in the crater frequently cleared it of the cloud of steam,
and we could see its elegant form perfectly. This crater is of
about the size of that which crowned Vesuvius a few years ago ;
and had we seen nothing more, we should have been fully re
paid for the toil of the ascent. But there was a still more
interesting object very near ; — a bank of about fifty feet in ele
vation, was all that separated us from the great crater.
This bank was very steep — not less than a slope of 45° —
but with my son and Mr. B. for companions, and the strong
arm of my guide for !a support, I succeeded in reaching the
summit. Here our feet sank almost ankle deep through a
deceptive covering of black volcanic sand, and were immersed
in a bed of sulphur, so hot as to be quite insupportable ; we
were indeed fearful that our boots would be crisped and burned,
and our feet endangered, nor did we know to what depth we
might sink in this glowing mound. It was, in fact, the lip of
the large crater, and the boundary between it and the smaller
one. We were, therefore, constrained to take very quick steps,
but, being on the summit ridge, we had a glimpse of the horrid
gulf of the great crater, in which the' steam and sulphurous
acid gas were eddying, and when the howling wind, or a vol
canic heave, cleared the pit of its vapors, we were startled to
find that we were standing upon a narrow lip, only a few feet
wide, of the sulphurous abyss yawning below with the depth
of a thousand feet. We now hastened down the bank. In
addition to the annoyance from the heat, our friends were wait
ing for us to proceed with them to another position where the
view was still more interesting.
Time on the summit of Vesuvius is precious, and we soon
disposed of our hasty repast. Our dinner cloth was spread in
the old crater, on lava, which, fifteen months before, was a
glowing, melted mass, in vivid ignition, and although now
cold to the touch, the atmosphere around was, by the vicinity
.Vol. i.— 17

386 Naples.
of the new craters, rendered gratefully warm, and counteracted
the chill of the air that blew in gusts across the mountain top.
After passing through thick clouds of steam charged with
the suffocating sulphurous acid gas which greatly annoyed our
lungs, when the wind cleared our vision, we found ourselves on
the narrow rim of the great crater. It was so narrow that only
two persons could walk upon it abreast. Our present position
was on the side of Vesuvius, contiguous to Somma on the north.
At this place the descent of the exterior surface of the moun
tain was very steep — a rapid slope of cinders and loose lava,
down to the deep and narrow valley (the Atrio del Cavallo),
between Vesuvius and Somma — a descent on the slant of pro
bably 1800 feet at an angle of 50 or 60 degrees. On the other
side was the crater, whose angle of descent was not less. On
this narrow rim, we walked on a surface not more than six or
eight feet wide, with the terrific crater, 1000 feet deep, on one side
and the abrupt descent of 1800 feet on the other side, into the val
ley of Somma. It was a spectacle truly sublime, awfully grand
and appalling. The heat below sent up, in throes and spasms,
dense clouds of steam and sulphurous acid gas, which, at short
intervals, filled the crater, and all that appeared was a pillar of
a cloud, in which we were often involved, and half suffocated ;
we stood with arms locked, for then it was unsafe to move until
a whirlwhind swept the crater clear, and we could see distinctly
into its profound abyss.
Nothing could be more perfectly formed than this crater.
It was a magnificent hollow cone, whose nether apex opened
into the great world of fire below ; still the fire we did not see,
although we had the most decisive proof of its existence and
continued action in the violent ejection of steam and gas, filling
every few minutes this vast funnel, whose diameter across from
side to side was probably 1000 feet; but the dense cloud of
steam and noxious gas which hovered to leeward over a large
portion of the circular orifice, rendered it impossible to walk
around it, or even to ascertain whether a continuity of surface,

Vesuvius. 387
free from cross fractures and chasms, would render it practica
ble without the most imminent danger.
In the night, we presume the fire would have been visible
at the bottom of the cone, although none was now seen ; and
we were glad to dispense with a more vigorous action of fire,
that we might enjoy so rare an opportunity of inspecting,
through its entire depth, a crater so profound and one of so re
cent an origin. As we descended from the mountain just be
fore evening, we met a party, and among them several ladies,
who were ascending with the intention of passing the night on
the summit, to explore, if possible, the slumbering fires, and to
see the sun rise the next morning on the mountain top. We
afterwards learned from the guides that they suffered much
from cold without seeing the volcanic light. Both this and
the smaller crater were formed entirely by the violent erup
tion of February, 1850; and had the action now been as
intense as it was then, we could not safely have approached the
crater, whose fiery ejections on that occasion proved fatal to four
persons standing at some distance. A soldier of the Mountain
Guard, a German traveller, an artist who was making sketches,
and Lieutenant Bayard, of the American navy, all approaching
too near, lost their lives. Lieutenant Bayard's arm was
shattered by the fall of a volcanic stone, and he died a few
days after in Naples, of exhaustion, chiefly by the loss of
blood. The interior of the great crater appeared to be composed
of stratified volcanic beds, resembling solid lava rocks, arrang
ed in a rude stratification. There were tempting deposits of yel
low sulphur, green chloride of copper, sal-ammoniac and other
substances, on the walls ofthe crater. One of our party was
much disposed to adventure in too far to obtain specimens, and
was not easily dissuaded from so perilous an attempt ; a slip of
the foot would have been fatal.
By throwing large stones into the crater, we made several
rough measurements of its probable depth inferred from the time
consumed in the returning sound, and we judged in this

388 Naples.
way that the depth of the crater was from 1000 to 1100
feet. The Eruption of February, 1850, took place from the base
of the cone, on a level with the sand plain which fills the ancient
crater of Somma. It here poured out a torrent of red scori-
aceous lava through a well defined canal. This is now entirely
cold, and we collected from its sides specimens of aphthitalite,*
which was projected over the rugged cavern like snow. Near this
spot also are two fumeroles, formed during the last eruption.
The largest was about twenty-five feet high, with an aperture of
nearly ten feet Its outer walls were black, rugged, and forbid
ding. The flow of lava from the eruption of 1850, was in the
direction northeast of the ancient Pompeii ; and it was copious
enough to destroy a small village, with its vineyards, at the
distance of several miles. The king of Naples, much to his
honor, has since erected a new village for the unfortunate inhabit
ants near the site of the former one.
Views from Vesuvius. — From the eastern lip of the large
crater, the site of Pompeii appears almost at the foot of the
mountain, and it seems not surprising that it was overwhelmed.
There is enough of Pompeii uncovered to give it tiie appear
ance, from Vesuvius, of a great cemetery ; thus it makes, in this
aspect, a solemn impression on the mind. From the other
side of the mountain, the towns that now cover Herculaneum
seem within the reach of ordinary eruptions ; and we can only
wonder that in modern times, since Vesuvius has been known
as a volcano, men should have had the hardihood to build at the
foot or upon the sides of a mountain of fire. Turning towards
Naples, the prospect is, beyond conception, grand and beautiful.
On the left, the Calabrian Mountains rise from the water's edge
at the Gulf of Salerno, and extend away far inland, until they
are lost to the view. The mountains on the eastern side of the
bay are grand from their height, and beautiful in their form,

* A mineral containing sulphate of potash, with smaller portions of
sulphate of soda, common Bait, sal-ammoniac, and a little copper and iron.

Vesuvius. 389
which is in sweeping curves, with verdant sides, descending to
ward the sea. Before us was the splendid bay, checkered with
fishing boats and sailing vessels, and in the distance the blue
Mediterranean. On the right are Cape Misenum, the Bay of
Baiae, and the city of Naples, with the picturesque hills in its
vicinity. Before us, and at our feet, are Portici, Resina, Torre
del Greco, and Torre del Annunciata, forming a brilliant bor
der of many miles along the strand. All objects are resplen
dent in the bright skies of this fine climate. Before us also, in
the distance, are the islands ; Capri on the left, and Ischia and
Procida on the right, bathed, as we saw them, in the golden
purple light of an Italian evening.
Descent to the Valley of Somma. — Our younger gentle
men being desirous of viewing the scene of this eruption, de
scended the steep slope, where it would have been impossible
to ascend. They sank, knee-deep, in the loose beds of volcanic
sand and lapilli, and were glad to avail themselves of a zig-zag
course, in order to check the velocity of their descent : they were
in danger of pitching headlong, with their limbs still entangled
in the debris, while it required active vigilance to avoid the
stones set in motion by the party, in their descent. Arrived
in 15 minutes at the bottom, and without injury, they felt
themselves compensated by perusing the record of the most
recent eruption. The rest of the party made their descent by
the usual route, and in a very short time arrived safely at
the bottom of the cone, without accident, and our friends,
equally fortunate, soon joined us at the rendezvous of the
horses, where the patient animals had remained tied to masses
of lava. Views of Vesuvius are familar to most persons ; they fre
quently exhibit the wall of the old crater of Somma, rising ab
ruptly like a parapet, or a section of an amphitheatre, and
inclosing Vesuvius on the north and northwest ; — a valley lies
between them, filled with volcanic ruins. We crossed without
difficulty, from the foot of Vesuvius to the wall of Somma, at
a distance of one-fourth or one-third of a mile.

390 Naples.
The "intervening plain (if a tract could be so called which
was every where billowy with old congealed lava) was filled,
more or less, in all its hollows, with volcanic sand. Our riding
required care, as there were numerous holes and horse traps ; but
no accident occurred, and we coasted along at the foot of this
grand old volcanic wall. The instruction which it affords
is very interesting. The dikes, that is, the distinct walls of solid
rock (standing out like buttresses in a building), by which this
ancient volcanic barrier is divided, are very numerous ; thus
proving that it was much convulsed and fissured after its con
solidation, and that melted lava was then injected, and in its
turn congealed. There are dikes here intersecting other dikes
that run aslant between the great dike walls, which are gener
ally vertical or nearly so ; all this proves that the convulsions
and the injections were repeated in successive eras, and that the
fissures crossing masses previously solidified, were, of course,
more recent, and that in successive periods, they ran in many
different directions. The dikes being firmer than the lava walls
the latter have been worn away by the weather, and left the
dikes prominent and projecting. This scene, of which I had
often studied the descriptions, was perfectly intelligible, and, to
a geologist, highly instructive and gratifying.
Lava and Minerals of Vesuvius. — The lava of Vesuvius
is mainly basaltic or augitic, and its flow is represented as very
sluggish at a small distance from its point of issue. Sir Wil
liam Hamilton, however, describes that which he saw in the
eruption of 1789, as issuing from the orifice on the side of the
volcano, where it found vent, with amazing velocity, very fluid,
and having the appearance and color of clear honey. It soon,
however, became viscid at no great distance from the issue.
Medals of lava formed by compressing the semifluid material in
moulds, bearing the date of the eruption, are sold by the guides.
Numerous crystals of leucite, are found in the lava of Vesuvius,
and this mineral being much less fusible than the lava, it often
happens in the violent ejections of steam and vapor accompany
ing eruptions, that numerous small crystals of leucite are blown

Vesuvius. 391
out, and fall like hail upon the surrounding country. Prof.
Sacchi showed us in the mineralogical museum at Naples, many
crystals which the eruption of 1 850 threw out in this way.
Numerous mineral species (probably not less than fifty) are
found in the lavas of Vesuvius, of Somma, and in that scattered
over the Phlegrean fields. Many of these species are of great
interest, and some of them are peculiar to Vesuvius. This is
not the place to enlarge upon a subject which is only of scien
tific interest. It is worthy of remark, however, that great value
is attached to the instruction afforded in the theory of the origin
of minerals, by the beautiful crystallized minerals found here,
as the direct results of igneous agency. Moreover, the opera
tion of the causes resulting in the production of minerals, has
changed since the ancient times : for example, the Vesuvian or
idocrase, is found only in the old lavas of Somma, and is unknown _
in the modern ejections. We succeeded, while in Naples, in
gathering a full collection of the Vesuvian minerals, in forming
which we received essential aid from Prof. Sacchi. The erup
tion of 1850 was remarkable for the finely crystallized yellow
and white sal-ammoniac, which was exhaled with its lavas.
Accumulation of Lava. — Both in ascending and descending
this mountain, we are impressed beyond the power of language '
to describe, with the incalculable amount of lava which has been
ejected from Vesuvius, during the ages in which it has existed.
It is mantled all over, with robe upon robe, of its own con
gealed overflowings, and the robes have flowed down its flanks,
and covered its feet. Immense fields of bristling, ragged, black
and billowy lava, now extend down the sides of Vesuvius, quite to
the plains, and the lava has often flowed across the towns at its
base, and invaded the sea. In no position so well as from the
summit of Vesuvius, can these vast tracts of lava be seen all in
one view. Their thickness is enormous; probably several
thousand feet near the mountain, which still rears far above
them, its venerable and beautiful form, and will probably con
tinue' for ages to come, as it has done for ages past, to afford a
vent for the internal fires of this part of the globe, until it shall

392 Naples.

be sealed up like Rocca Monfina on the road to Rome, Mount
Vultur in Apuleia, or Mount Epimeo in Ischia ; and until a new
orifice shall be formed wherever the fire shall force a passage.
The height of Vesuvius varies with its eruptions, as the cone is
elevated or depressed.
In Bakewell's Geology, the elevation is stated at 3900 feet :
probably it does not now exceed 3500 or 3600. Its height, as
measured by Humboldt, was 3642 feet. The history of its former
eruptions belongs to Geology. Since the present century began,
hardly a year has occurred without an eruption. That of Oct.
24, 1822, was very remarkable. The ashes darkened the day
in Naples, and spread as far as Cassano, 105 miles from the
mountain. The lava was 12 feet deep and ran an Italian mile
— which exceeds the English mile by nearly 800 feet. Vesu
vius is inferior in altitude and in the extent of its operations to
many other volcanoes, but its situation in the midst of classical
Italy, and Jts easy accessibility, have caused it to be studied more
than any volcano, except, perhaps, its colossal neighbor Etna.
The foot of Vesuvius is about six miles from Naples ; but to
reach its summit, including the windings of the road, will be
more than double that distance.
The Origin of Vesuvius, as regards its era, is totally un
known. It is very probable that it arose out ofthe sea, as many
volcanoes have done, both in ancient and modern times. It is
certain from the abundance of lava in the pavements in Pom
peii and Herculaneum, and in the ancient Roman roads, that
eruptions of Vesuvius, and of other Italian volcanoes, had oc
curred in very remote eras, and had preceded the foundations
of Rome. Vesuvius had been covered by forests, cattle had
grazed in its crater, and villas had occupied its slopes before the
catastrophe of the buried cities, and the same state of things has
occurred since that time, during periods of repose of centuries,
in which the events of past ages, if mentioned at all, might
have been regarded as fables. The lacerated and frowning walls
of old Somma inform us that the modern Vesuvius, which, with
in the records of history, has often changed its form (grand and

Crater of Mt. "Vesuvius in 1829.

Environs of Naples. 393
interesting as it now appears,) is only a parasite mountain,
which the fires have piled up, since the destruction of a vastly
larger cone, of which the present walls of Somma are but an in
considerable remnant. It is conjectured, indeed, that this more
ancient cone was destroyed at the time when Pompeii and
Herculaneum were buried, nor can we deny the truth of a sup
position which appears not improbable.

tf Hbinms si |faglts.
The1 environs of Naples abound with interesting objects.
Several of these places we saw after our return from Sicily,
but they will be mentioned in connection with those visited
before we went, as the order of time is of no importance.
All our excursions were along the shore of the bay, and those
that I am now to describe lead to the southwest, as the
preceding have conducted us in the opposite direction.
And first, we will go to the Grotto of Posilippo. We
drove along the admirable city road, paved with heavy hewn
stones, large and flat, with the shore of the bay immediate
ly on our left, and nothing between us and the water except
some ornamented grounds. On our right were the high
houses, constructed of stone, colored of a beautiful yellow,
giving the streets a very lively aspect. Along this avenue,
which leads to the Grotto of Posilippo, there is an almost in
cessant rush of elegant carriages, as it is a favorite drive of the
gentry. It is almost the last week of the flowery month of
May, and in this climate fields and gardens are now dressed iri
their gayest attire of beautiful flowers. Nothing is more com
mon than to have bouquets of flowers, rich and various, and
elegantly done up, presented as you enter or leave your car
riage or even as you ride along. We often drove in the street
leading to Posilippo, and were in every excursion saluted by a
bouquet, and always by the same sturdy lad, quite decently
Vol. 1. —17*

394 Naples.
dressed. At first we made him some returns and accepted his
flowers, but finding that he always watched our movements,
and was ever ready with his bouquets, we shook our heads and
drove on ; but this cool treatment did not discourage him ; he
ran to us and after us, and hung upon the carriage, and when
we refused his offerings, he would throw them into the car
riage, and we, to get rid of him, threw them out again. This
importunity we met with in other parts of the continent, and
especially in Italy.
Grotto of Posilippo. — This famous tunnel (called often
also the Grotto of Puzzole) is excavated through a very lofty
hill, of ancient volcanic tufa, contiguous to Naples and upon the
western shore of the bay. The tunnel is 80 or 90 feet high,
from 24 to 30 feet wide, and about 1000 paces, or nearly three-
fifths of a mile long. Although it is usually attributed to the
Romans, it is believed by antiquarians to be of a still earlier
date, and that it was begun as a quarry for stone, but was
eventually can-ied through the hill as a road. It exhibits de
cisive evidence of having been excavated at many different
periods ; for we can see in the walls the lines of cutting — and
there are many such — showing that the excavation was made
from above, by successive labors, until the road was brought to
its present low level. It would be a very dark and gloomy
gallery, only showing light at its two extremes, were it not kept
constantly lighted, night and day, by lamps. In the middle of
the Grotto there is a chapel in honor of the Virgin Mary ; it
has, of course, extra lights, which tend to diminish the gloom,
and avert any fear of collision or robbery — for a great number
of people and carriages, from a wide and populous district, are
constantly passing through this great thoroughfare. It is an
object of considerable curiosity to travellers ; and being always
cool in summer, it would be an agreeable transit, were it not
that it has the atmosphere of a stable, although air-holes
have been cut through the roof for ventilation. It greatly needs
a visitation from Hercules and the purification of water. There
is a powerful echo, which by reverberation very much increases

Environs of Naples. 395
the rumbling of the carriages. The Austrians, in 1822, opened
a road over the Posilippo Hill, and thus avoided the grotto.
On another occasion we travelled by that road, which is deeply
cut into the side of the hill of volcanic tufa, and rises to a high
elevation, overlooking the nether country. In making the sec
tion along this hill, they uncovered another grotto, which also
we visited. It is a grand work, the walls at the entrance are
of hewn stone, and laid up to a great height and in a workman
like manner. We walked in as far as the light would serve,
for the exploration has not been carried through the hill, which
it probably perforates two or three miles further south of the
other tunnel, and if so it doubtless once served for a thoroughfare,
and probably might serve again* Both these tunnels are
works of a great people. The one last named is fortified by
masonry, obviously because the tufa is almost pulverulent, like
that which buried Pompeii, and would not sustain its own
weight ; but the walls of the tunnel now used, although tufa-
ceous, ale firm, and do not appear to have suffered from earth
quakes. We were much impressed, in passing through this
grotto, with the extent and antiquity of the volcanic action in
this region, for all that we saw was the result of eruptions, pro
bably submarine and anterior to the age of Vesuvius.
The Lake Agnano is about four miles from Naples, and is
reached by passing through the Grotto of Posilippo. This
lake is doubtless the crater of an extinct volcano. It is said to
be three miles in circumference, and on one side of it carbonic
acid gas is disengaged abundantly and incessantly. This
strengthens the presumption of its having been anciently a
crater. The form and position of the lake favor this conclusion,
and volcanic eruptions are known to have taken place in its
vicinity while proofs of internal heat are now abundant and
at hand. Grotto del Cani. — The opinion that the Lake of Agnano
* It is supposed to be the Crypta Pausilypona of the ancients ;
called by Seneca Grypta Neapolitana.

396 Naples.
was originally a volcanic crater, is still farther favored by the
vicinity of the Grotto del Cani— the Dogs' Grotto— which has
been known ever since the time of Pliny, by whom it is
mentioned (lib. 2, c. 90) ; and it is commemorated in all trea
tises and courses of lectures on chemistry and geology. It was,
therefore, an object of much interest to us, and I cannot say
that we were greatly disappointed, as it had been rendered fa
miliar by the descriptions of preceding travellers. This long
celebrated grotto is merely a small artificial excavation in the
side of a volcanic hill. It has a depth of ten feet horizontally
into the hill, and a diameter of four ; but as it is egg-shaped,
not more than two men can stand in it at once, and that stoop
ing. As we approached the place under the direction of An
tonio, a coarse man appeared dragging a little yellow starveling
dog by a string tied around his neck ; he then opened a small
door in the side of the hill, and swinging the dog from the
ground by the rope, into the hole at the bottom of the excava
tion, left him for a moment, where lie gasped awhile, and would
of course have died had not the master lifted him out by the
cord and laid him upon the grass in the fresh air, where having
again gasped, he soon recovered, and was ready to be almost
killed again, when another stranger should arrive. A burning
paper is extinguished in the gas. and the smoke shows where the
gas rests, and fluctuates with it as currents of air in the cave give
it motion. Such is the celebrated Dogs' Grotto of Pliny, fa
mous for almost 18 -centuries.
A rival cavern has been excavated in the Hill of Agnano ;
it is very near to the Dogs' Grotto, and is far more remarkable, as
the gas is much more abundant. They call it ammonia, but it
is decidedly carbonic acid gas, and the pungency with which
it affects the nostrils is only the well-known sensation produced
by breathing carbonic acid. This new grotto is also protected
by a door ; but no dog was tormented there. Possibly it is
not permitted, as the king of Naples derives a revenue from
the sufferings of his canine subjects !
The Villa of Lucullus is a name given to extensive ru-

Environs of Naples. 397
ins of a villa near the Lake Agnano, which were discovered not
long since by the uncovering of a hill-side during an earth
quake. That this establishment was covered by volcanic ejections is
evident from the prevalence of volcanic tufa through all these
hills. The materials are not aggregated into solid rock, and
are quite similar to those that covered Pompeii, to those also
that form the monticules on Vesuvius, and the high hill through
which the Austrians cut the road over Posilippo. It will be
still more evident, from facts that remain to be stated, that this
whole country, from Cape Misenum to Vesuvius, has been, in
ages past, under volcanic action, which only slumbers now ; and
that the hills are accumulations of volcanic ejections. That
there is no distinct record of the catastrophe which buried the
Villa of Lucullus is not so extraordinary as that the destruction
of the cities near to Vesuvius should hardly have been men
tioned, or only alluded to, by the Roman writers of that age.
Hot Vapor Baths.— Contiguous to the ruins of the Villa
of Lucullus there are several small houses in which the air is
warmed by the ground on which the buildings stand. You
enter the first of the series of apartments, and find the air mild
and grateful ; you proceed into another, which is still warmer ;
and the next is hot, and the next very hot, as much so as can
be endured. Thus, by a graduation of temperature, the air is
adapted to the cases of invalids having rheumatism, gout, and
other maladies that demand an elevated temperature ; and
here they experience also the conjoined effect of hot aqueous
vapor, and of a mild sulphureous exhalation. These natural
hot air and vapor baths must be admirably adapted to many
cases of infirmity. The cause is evident At the front of these
houses, we dug down only a few inches into the ground, and
found it hot, and a little deeper, very hot, becoming intolerable ;
the earth was full of sublimed sulphur, in some places well
crystallized, and hot, like that in which we walked on the sum
mit of Vesuvius.
How instructive are these facts ! Fire is still active beneath

398 Naples.
this region. It is only a delusive repose which it now enjoys ;
and it is probably to be again visited by those convulsions which
have certainly been experienced here in ages past. The phy
sical phenomena of this region are intensely interesting, and
highly instructive ; and there are many scenes which, if they
have not the grandeur and splendor of Vesuvius, hardly yield to
it in their attractions, and in importance.
Tomb of Virgil. — Who could neglect the sweet pastoral,
and the sublime heroic poet ? Certainly not those whose early
training has led them to study his delightful poems, so free
from the moral faults of the age in which he lived, and so full
of beauty. Away then, we go as to a sacred shrine, although
uncertain whether it contains, or perhaps ever did contain, a
mortal relic of the immortal bard. Along our favorite drive,
not through the gloomy tunnel, but in front of the splendid hill
of Posilippo — we now hasten (for a rain storm is impend
ing) ; and we leave our carriages when the acclivity is too
great for the horses to climb farther. Deep sections have been
made in the hill, in order to obtain a place for a road ; and
still deeper excavations are seen in the high bank, which is
shaped into apartments for human beings to dwell in. What
contrasts do we see from palaces to inhabited caverns ! On
our feet we approached Virgil's Grotto, toiling up the steep,
over a paved, zig-zag street. It is cut in the same accumulated
tufa which we saw at Agnano.
The place is on the summit of the hill. It is eminently pic
turesque and beautiful, in the midst of groves, shrubs and flow
ers. It commands a view of the noble bay, and of the city of
Naples and Vesuvius, and the towns at its foot, and of the So-
rentine coast. There is a small temple-like structure over the
supposed grave, and two commemorative slabs of marble. One
of them is in the wall, with an inscription which we could
hardly make out. The other is a common upright gravestone,
with the following epitaph :

Environs of Naples. 399
P.
VlEGILIO MAEONL
Mantua me genuit Calabres rapuere
Tenet nunc
Parthenope* — oeeini Pascua Rura
Duces.
It is admitted that he died in Calabria, on his return from
Greece, and was brought to Naples to be buried. He was pro
bably interred at this place ; but Antonio said that his bones
are not here now, having been stolen by a Neapolitan prince.
Bay of BAiJE.-«»-After our return from Sicily, June 2d, we
twice visited the Bay of Baiae, one of the most celebrated places
in all Italy. The Bay of Naples, as already remarked, lies be
tween Cape Misenum on the west, and Sorentum and Cape
Campanella on the east. The Bay of Baiae is situated between
Cape Misenum and the small island of Nitida, about half way
to Naples. Its form is circular, and it is sufficiently land-lock
ed to afford a secure harbor. It was a principal station of the
Roman fleet ; and it has been already stated, that it was from
Cape Misenum that its commander, the elder PHny, the natu
ral historian, passed over to Stabiae, and there, on the night of
August 24, a. d. 79, met his death during the eruption that
buried Pompeii and the other towns.
The Bay of Baiae was a favorite resort of the Roman Empe
rors, and other distinguished men, during the most flourishing
periods of the empire. Around its shores, and in its immediate
vicinity, were clustered in near proximity, villas, temples, baths
and other public structures, whose ruins alone remain. In the
same vicinity also volcanic and other phenomena have left ves
tiges not less remarkable, and far more enduring than the tran
sient works of man.
Passing through the tunnel of Posilippo, we continued
along the strand, where the same lofty ridge of volcanic accu
mulations is cut down all along the shore, and presents on the
* The poetical name of Naples.

400 Naples.
right a high vertical wall, whose tottering masses menace the
traveller. Puzzuoli, Puteoli. — Five or six miles from Naples, we
entered this crowded town, standing partly on a plain and
partly on a promontory. Upon the highest part of that por
tion which is nearest the bay are the ruins of a temple
called the Temple of Augustus. Several columns remain erect
with their capitals, which are now built into the walls of a very
ancient cathedral, but they are still prominent. This cathedral
is said to have been erected to commemorate the landing of
the great Apostle Paul. However this may be, and whether
the contiguous shore is the exact spot where he disembarked, is
unimportant; but it is certain that he landed at Puteoli, now
Puzzuoli, and thence proceeded on the Appian Way, which
passed through this place, and is as perfect here as it was
when a greater man than any Roman emperor travelled over
it on his last journey, whose termination was Rome and mar
tyrdom.* This most interesting and instructive ruin is on the level of
the sea, in the lowest part of the town of Puzzuoli. Professor
Babbage, in the Geological Transactions for 1831, and Sir
Charles Lyell, in his Geology, have given able analyses of the
facts regarding the gradual sinking of this temple below the
level of the sea, and its re-elevation to its present position ; and
with it the entire coast in that vicinity, including a temple and
bridges, a niole, and other structures. A view of the ruin,
showing the points of scientific interest, is prefixed to Lyell's
Geology. A stranger uninformed of the existence of this very
* In Puzzuoli, we were so pressed upon by peddlers of relics and an
tiques (so called), and by beggars of all ages, that the carriages could
hardly move through the streets.

Temple of Jupiter Serapis. 401
remarkable monument of antiquity might pass by the place
without observing it, as buildings surround it on all sides. We
made our way to it through an opening in the side of the street,
which is very properly guarded by a door. The white marble
pavement of the building remains nearly entire and in place •
but brackish water is now resting upon it to the depth of about
fifteen inches, in which small fishes were swimming about. A
communication exists with the sea underneath the street. I
have already remarked that the ruin is not visible except from
higher ground ; and when we entered the gate, we descended
ten or twelve steps, to the level of the temple, or rather of the
cross walls or elevated walk, erected a few years ago by the
king, over which we passed to the centre and beyond.
Only tbree columns of this once beautiful structure are now
standing, though four fallen fragments of another column, as
large as those still remaining in place, are near at hand. These
four large columns were 42 feet high, and their diameter was
nearly 5 feet. The original building appears to have had 46
grand columns to support the roof, of which 24 were of granite
and 22 of marble. Several columns of granite and several also
of marble, of smaller dimensions, all more or less broken, are
now lying about in fragments on the pavement. I measured
several of the columns, both large and small ; the latter were
29 inches in diameter, about half that of the larger columns.
The pedestals of all the columns are seen in place under water,
regularly arranged.
The building was nearly square ; our guide-book for Naples
gives the dimensions as 134 by 115 feet, and this corresponds
very nearly with our measurement by a graduated tape* In
the centre of the building is a platform of marble, which I did
not measure, but it appeared to be 20 to 25 feet in diameter.
* Sir Charles Lyell, when stating the dimensions at 66 feet for a
square building, must have referred only to the central part, without
including the surrounding apartments, for by measuring from the
outside to the centre I found the dimensions to be more than double
that number.

402 Naples.
I have had occasion to remark, more than once, that great
spoliations have been committed upon ancient Roman buildings,
to afford materials for modern structures. This superb temple
or bath has been robbed of its finest ornaments. Some of the
most beautiful columns have been taken- to Caserta to decorate
the royal palace of the reigning monarch, and we doubtless owe
the preservation of what remains to the injured state of the
columns ; the injuries, however, being chiefly the result of the
borings of lithodomous shell-fish (stone-inhabiting), cause these
columns to be, to the eye of a geologist, more attractive than
they would have been with the original polished surface. These
lithodomous shell-fishes were a kind of muscle, which have the
power to perforate marble and limestone ; they excavate their
dwellings in this solid substance partly by chemical, partly by
mechanical means ; and as the animal never migrates, it enlarges
its house from time to time as it increases in size. The cavity
becomes in this manner cocoon shaped, and when the muscle
dies the shell remains in the cavity, and thus a record is pre
served of the life, works, and death of the humble historian.
The columns were not fluted, and the three now standing are
smooth and uninjured for about 12 feet from their bases; then
they are perforated all around by the lithodomi for about 9 feet,
and the remaining 20 feet or more being the upper part of the
pillar, are free from perforation, but they are not free from in
jury. The marble, especially near the top, is deeply seamed by
the dashing of the waves, and by the weather, in the direction
of the natural layers, in accordance with its original structural
arrangement as it lay in the quarry ; the seams are therefore
vertical, being in the direction of the length of the column, and
from one a large piece has flaked off and fallen.
The fourth large column, mentioned above and now fallen,
is perforated in the same manner as the other columns that are
standing, and it was evidently done when it was, like its com
panions, erect and in the salt water ; it could have been done
in no other situation, as the animals are marine, and had it lain

Temple of Jupiter Serapis. 403
on the bottom, it would have been protected from their action
by the volcanic debris.
It is a mistake, as mentioned by an eminent author,* that
the columns are monolithic ; tbey are in fact in three pieces,
and in one of the cylindrical portions that is prostrate there are
three holes in one end of the cylindrical termination, evidently
bored to receive the three iron or bronze pins or bolts that were
provided to secure the joint.
The prostrate marble columns, including the smaller ones,
are all bored by the lithodomi, and being quite accessible,
afford a fine opportunity to examine the perforations. I ob
served particularly a column of red African marble (brecciated,
I believe), which was so effectually bored that the holes occu
pied almost the entire surface, as if the work had been done by
a bit or auger. One cavity was lj inch in diameter in one
direction, and 1 inch in the other, and 3 inches deep, so that
the middle finger of the hand could, in its entire length, be
passed into it. It is hardly necessary to add, that the granite
columns, of which there are several lying about on the pave
ment, are not perforated, as they are too hard to be penetrated
by the lithodomi ; and they have undergone no other change
than from the wearing of the waves and other chronical
agents, which have produced some degree of roughness.
The geological inferences to be drawn from these facts are
very important, as follows : —
The building was probably shaken by earthquakes, which
threw down most of the columns and produced, of the col
umns that remain in place, a slight inclination towards the sea.
It was not necessary that they should be monolithic, in order to
account for their not having fallen ; for the different sections
being secured by metallic bolts, became firm as if they were
one continued mass of stone.
The foundation of the building has evidently been depressed,
probably by gradual subsidence, until the columns were covered
* Sir Charles Lyell.

404 Naples.
by the sea, at least to the height of the upper perforations ; and
while they were thus immersed, we know not for what length
of time, they became corroded by the muscles which perforated
them, as also by the sea water ; for it is to be remembered
that all the columns are sensibly diminished in diameter around
the upper and corroded portion. The ejections from the neigh
boring volcanoes threw into the sea so large a portion of loose
materials as to form, along with accumulating rubbish, a pro
tecting mass around the 12 feet nearest the bases of the col
umns, and thus they were saved from perforation by the mus
cles, and from the action of the water.
Meanwhile, that portion of the columns that was above the
water wais subjected to the storms and the dashing of the waves,
and thus became seamed in the manner that has been men
tioned. In the progress of time, the foundations, with the col
umns, were raised again ; the entire coast, for many miles, was
elevated as it had been before depressed, and eventually the
structure was redeemed from the waves. If the depression
were occasioned by a gradual shrinkage of the subjacent strata
by the loss of heat, the subsequent elevation may have arisen
from its gradual accumulation ; for a moderate change of tem
perature, cooling, and heating, and extending through great
depths, as of many miles,* would produce easily such a depres
sion and elevation as has evidently taken place at Puzzuoli to
more than 20 feet, and on some parts of the coast to 30 feet
or more. It is certainly possible that both the depression and
the elevation may have been produced by convulsive move
ment, or both convulsive and gradual movements may have
been concerned. There is great reason to believe that the re-
elevation was completed in 1538, when the great eruption took
place that formed Monte Nuovo; for even before that time
there was a reputed drying up of the sea on this coast, and

* As shown by Prof. Babbage, from the experiments of Col. [now
Gen.] Totten, at Newport, Rhode Island. (See American Journal of
Science, vol. xxii., p. 136.)

Temple of Jupiter Serapis. 405
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, then having dominion here,
granted a portion of the land, in 1503, to the University of
Puzzuoli, and in 1511 another portion to the city, "where the
sea is drying up." — LijelVs Geology.
Era. — It appears from a record in the atrium of the Tem
ple, that Septimius Severus and Marcus Aurelius adorned it
with marbles, and it was, therefore, in existence in the third
century. All knowledge of it appears to have been lost in sub
sequent centuries, and it was re-discovered only about 50 years
ago, although the. columns showed themselves above the rubbish.
It appears that the Temple had, in earlier periods, subsided at
least five feet, as in 1828 a costly mosaic pavement was dis
covered at that depth ; and another floor, probably the present
marble pavement, was constructed above the water, and this in
its turn has subsided 15 inches below the level of the waves.
Near the Temple of Jupiter Serapis there are the ruins of a
temple of Neptune and one of Vesta, now under water — the
columns of that of Neptune being just even with the waves.
In the Bay of Baiae, and also opposite on the Sorentine coast,
there are Roman roads under water ; and in the Island of
Capri, a palace of Tiberius is beneath the waves.
The remains of Caligula's bridge are still quite visible ; they
run out from the Island of Nitida in the manner of a mole,
sustained by piers and arches ; on the 6th pier the stone is
bored by lithodomi, four feet above the water ; on another, the
borings are ten feet above the waves, and there are upon them
numerous flustra (corals) and barnacles. Consequently, the
structure has been depressed beneath the sea and has been
again elevated.
There are barnacles and various shell-fish, such as are now
found in the Mediterranean, elevated in the banks 20 and 30
feet above the waves, where they are mixed with fragments of
architecture and with bones of domestic animals, proving that
both the depression and the elevation have taken place in the
human era.
This instance, as it has occurred in connection with the vol-

406 Naples.
canoes in the immediate vicinity, which have been active
from remote geological ages, and are active still, affords a fine
illustration of the dynamics of fire. As a ruin, Jupiter Serapis
is highly interesting. There are still many beautiful friezes and
other carved ornamental marbles lying about on the pavement,
thus proving the elegance of the building. It is very probable
that it was a bath, rather than a temple. There are numerous
smaller apartments still surrounding the building, and appar
ently forming a part of it, which may have been used for bathing
rooms ; the marble conduits for conveying water into them
still exist. There are also hot springs coming from the Solfa
tara, which is not far distant, and which still boil up and steam
out into the air, forming clouds of vapor ; these are features of
a bath and not of a temple. It would appear also extraordinary
that a magnificent temple should be erected in a low situation,
and in an obscure place at the foot of a hill and near the beach ;
but this accords well with a bath, which would be thus easily
supplied with water from the hot-springs and the sea. The very
obscurity of its position at present heightens the effect ; when the
door is opened from the street, the ruin bursts upon you sudden
ly ; it is beautiful, grand, and venerable. I would sooner have
missed seeing St. Peter's than Jupiter Serapis; but doubtless ge
ology has had much influence in exciting this enthusiasm in my
mind. We were so much interested that we made two excur
sions, from Naples, not to worship in, but to admire this tem
ple, if temple it was. The evidence of its elevation and de
pression by geological causes is decisive, and the fact has been
of great importance in establishing geological theory.
The Solfatara. — Our second excursion to Jupiter Serapis
was connected with one to the Solfatara, the Forum Vulcani
of the ancients. This name is given to a slumbering but not
extinct volcano, and has reference to the sublimation of sulphur,
which is usual in such circumstances. The place which has ori
ginated this name is about one mile from the Temple of Jupiter
Serapis. From that ruin we made our way to it up the Appian
road, which is here in perfect order ; its massive blocks of lava

The Solfatara. 407
having never been disturbed. The Appian Way, evidently,
had branches ; one led to Pompeii, and another to Puzzuoli.
It was a toilsome ascent, and the ladies, each with an Italian
attendant, on foot, were, again placed on donkey backs, while the
rest of the party travelled as pedestrians. The entrance, through
a deep cut in the side of the crater, probably artificial, to
admit of easy access, is very impressive. This is a large crater,
formed with perfect regularity ; its aged walls, more lofty and
grand than those of an impregnable fortress, form an amphi
theatre. I hardly dare to estimate elevations and magni
tudes, where all is high and large ; probably these walls, from
the lip to the now quiet floor, may be 100 to 150 feet high,
with a diameter of 700 to 800 feet. It was eruptive in 1198,
and the fires have never become entirely extinct. If we could
have entertained a doubt that we were in a volcano, whose floor
was now quiet and motionless, that doubt would have been dis
sipated by the odor of the sulphur gases, by the sulphur itself,
sublimed on the walls, and by the shattered cliffs, deeply cor
roded and discolored by the acid vapors constantly rising.
The abyss below returned a hollow reverberation when
heavy stones were thrown upon it. We advanced to the re
mote end of the crater, and descended by a narrow passage
into a deep pit, where a grisly old man (Vulcan, rather than
Charon) was striking his pick -axe into an open wound in one
end of the pit, whence issued an angry blast of steam, with a
terrific roar, like that of an immense boiler under enormous
pressure. It was not without awe that we all gathered around
this mysterious volcanic vent, and it was very interesting to ob
serve how instantaneously, in this hot blast, sulphur and red
sulphuret of arsenic (realgar), were condensed upon the work
man's pick, or on our hats, held near the orifice ; the arsenic
instantly crystallized* brilliantly from its state of vapor.
* From different parts of the crater we obtained beautiful crys
tallizations of realgar and sulphur, and the old man the next morning
brought good specimens to us in Naples.

408 Naples.
No doubt this blast may blow for centuries. It tells of the
power, unsubdued, which may, one day, rally again, to raise a
new cone. The Neapolitan hills of volcanic tufa, evidently
came from some such source as this. The sections show mate
rials exactly like those that cover Pompeii, and the Solfatara
may again one day overwhelm, as no doubt it has done before,
with cinders or with ignited and flowing lava, its own ancient
city, Puzzuoli.
Alum is manufactured in the Solfatara. A deep well in
the midst of the crater affords the alum water ; the kettles in
which the water is evaporated need no artificial fire ; they
were set into the floor up to the brim, and were boiling rap
idly, merely by the effect of the heat from the smothered
volcanic fire below. There was also a spring of water, ren
dered agreeably acidulous by sulphuric acid.
Hot Baths. — Were any additional proof wanted, that fire
still holds its ancient dominion beneath this region, it is found
in the so-called hot baths of Nero. Two or three miles south
and east from Puzzuoli, ascending a short distance in a path
cut into the side of a hill of tufa, we entered some chambers
excavated from the rock, open to the day by lateral window
like apertures, made by cutting the strata that form the side
of the hill. We had hardly reached this internal gallery be
fore a tall and powerful man, sinewy and bony, and naked to
the waist, mysteriously appeared as if he had emerged out of
the rock ; and he did indeed come, I suppose, from one of its
caverns. In an instant he sprang into a long gallery filled
with steam, in a dense cloud of which he was immersed, and
with a wizard air he silently beckoned us to follow. Happen
ing to be nearest to him I obeyed the signal, and followed, but
not without a loud caution from Antonio — often repeated —
" hold down your head." I endeavored to follow my now in
visible guide, but soon found that I was too tall to carry my
head beneath the current of hot steam, which was rushing
along the vaulted roof of the gallery. I was compelled soon
to retreat, and no one of our party seemed inclined to renew

The Solfatara. 409
the attempt. We lingered a short time, not knowing exactly
what to expect from our half-nude man of the mountain ; but not
long after we heard the echo of his quick footsteps, accompa
nied by a deep and laborious respiration, and by the panting, as
of one about to expire ; and indeed, when he rushed out from the
cloud of almost boiling hot steam, he exhibited a painful spec
tacle of a man ready to die from suffocation ; his countenance
was ghastly, and his body covered with large drops of water,
both from perspiration and the condensation of the vapor. But
he brought out with him his trophy, a bucket of the boiling
water, dipped from the ever-seething fountain ; it had cooled
but a little below 212° (as was ascertained by a thermometer),
although he brought it 200 yards, and an egg plunged into
it came out quite solid. Had I been aware of the circumstan
ces, I should have objected to this painful experiment ; but I
Buppose it is this man's business to be parboiled in steam, as it
was of the dog at the grotto to be almost killed by gas, for the
entertainment of travellers.
Numerous bath rooms, still perfect, had been, in ancient
times, cut out of the tufa, and there are also many seats for the
bathers, and couches shaped in the soft rock, with an elevated
ledge to support the head ; doubtless they were furnished with
some sort of cushion, and here the luxurious Roman enjoyed
to the full, the pleasures of the vapor bath. There was no need
of going to the boiling fountain, which few could endure, in
its full force, but by the addition of proper doors and win
dows, the copious and never ceasing vapor could be easily sent
through all these apartments, and could have been mea
surably diluted with cold air from the windows and doors,
to bring it to the desired temperature. The boiling water
is not confined to the well from which our ^ahamander of
% man. brought it forth ; it is so abundant that it evidently
extends like a hot water bath beneath the rocky hill of tufa ;
for we descended, I suppose, 50 feet, vertically, then crossed the
road at the foot of the cliff, and by digging with the hand a
hole in the sand of the beach which borders the bay, we found
Vol. i.— 18

410 Naples.
the hot water oozing up in abundance, and the heat a little be
low was quite intolerable ; nor was this all ; for in the sand
beneath the salt water the thermometer rose to 150°.
Here, then, after 1 800 years, we find the internal heat of
the earth undiminished, thus decidedly proving the existence
of a permanent source beneath, and a connection with the
grand focus, whose power has been manifested now at Monte
Nuovo, or in the vicinal cones and craters, now in the Solfatara,
or in Vesuvius, or more anciently in Rocca Monfina, or in Mount
Vultur, or in modern times in Ischia Procida, or Stromboli, and
the other ^Eolian isles, or even in Etna itself.
Monte Nuovo, or the New Mountain. — On Sunday
night, September 29, 1538, the volcanic fire broke forth from
the earth between Monte Barbara and Tripergola, and near to
the Lake Avernus, and but a short distance from the Bay of
Naples. The event had been foretold by frequent earthquakes,
which, during the two preceding years, had been perceived at
Puzzuoli, Naples, and in the surrounding regions. The eruption
was violent, and drove the inhabitants of Puzzuoli from their
mansions, to seek safety in Naples ; but the ejections reached
that city, and destroyed several palaces, and numbers of people
were killed in the vicinity of the volcano.
The town of Tripergola, between Lake Avernus and the bay,
was swallowed up, and most of its inhabitants perished. In
the course of 24 hours* Monte Nuovo was piled up to the
height of 440 feet, and a mile and a half in circumference.
Monte Nuovo is still there and in perfection of form ; a regular
and beautiful volcanic cone, whose sides are covered in part
with grass, and in part cultivated. We made the ascent, which
was not difficult, although it was fatiguing, as the sun shone
with great intensity. We walked around upon the lip of the
crater, which is perfectly well defined, and is apparently as dis
tinct as it was when first formed. Its depth is very nearly 400
feet. The crater is verdant, for there has been no volcanic
* It is even said 12 hours.

Cave of the Sibyls. 411
movement within it since it was formed, more than 300 years
ago. Lucrine Lake and Lake Avernus. — Standing on the
summit of Monte Nuovo, and looking south and west, the Lu
crine Lake is on the left, but it was almost filled by the eruption
of 1538, and is now very small. In the position above named,
the Lake Avernus is seen at the foot of Monte Nuovo ; it may
be half a mile in diameter, and its placid bosom gives no indi
cation that it is the Atra Ditis Janua. It also was doubtless
once the mouth of an active volcano, and might have sug
gested the poetical imagery which has been associated with it
by Virgil. The word Avernus, in the Greek, means birdless, a
place without birds, as it was said anciently that none could
fly over this lake with impunity — and if on the wing over
Avernus they would fall dead. Now birds swim freely on its
bosom, and fishes in its waters, which I tasted and found not
disagreeable. On our right, looking towards Naples, is Monte Barbara,
another volcanic mountain, of a regular form ; is very near
to Monte Nuovo, and is of a larger size. It is figured in
Lyell's Geology, with a crater, but this was not visible from the
station which we occupied.
Cave of the Sibyls. — On the side of Lake Avernus we en
tered an artificial cavern or gallery, cut in the tufa, and called
the Cave of the Sibyls. The name was sufficiently attractive
to induce our ladies to accompany us— the party being led by
the guides, who bore flambeaux to enable us to find our way
in this long and dark passage. It was evidently constructed
with great care and toil : the side walls and the arch are very
regular, but for what purpose this grand tunnel was excavated
it is not easy to imagine, unless, as our guides assured us, it ex
tends two or three miles through the hill to the ancient Cumae,
which was between the Lake Avernus and the sea-shore. They
stated that the opening at the other end had been sought, but
not found.After we had gone in, perhaps a quarter of a mile, we came

412 Naples.
to a division of the adit, and we were assured that the branch
led to some very curious chambers, into which our conductors,
aided by several assistants, were solicitous to carry us on theii
shoulders — ladies and all — as there was water on the floor of
the part to which they were going. All declined the overture,
except some of our young gentlemen. They were borne along
by these bipeds of the cavern, but found nothing worthy of the
effort. There were two chambers, perhaps fifteen feet square,
and a bath where the Sibyl used to bathe in muddy water.
They pretend that from these chambers the Sibyl gave her
responses ; from recesses in which the wind never blows to dis
turb the Sibylline leaves — ludibria ventis — and where, should
they fall into the water, they could never be gathered up. Un
der the temple of Apollo, at Cumae, there- was a grotto, where
it is said that the oracles of Apollo were delivered-by the Sibyls.
This fable is not quite so absurd as the other. This remarkable
gallery — a work of vast labor, and executed in a remote age —
was probably wrought, like the tunnel of Posilippo, for some
civil purpose. This might have been to communicate with
Cumae on one side, and the Bay of Baiae on the other ; or it
may never have been completed, or its terminal opening or
openings may have been filled up. In these ancient countries
there is a disposition to find a locality for every memorable
event or distinguished individual, and the traveller should be on
his guard lest he be deceived. The best ground of reliance is
upon the physical features of countries which undergo little
change in historical eras. There is no doubt, for example, that
the Lucrine Lake and Lake Avernus are really the waters so
named by Virgil ; but the romance of poetry is gone when we
see them now so very small and quiet ; we are however still
impressed with the extent of the dominion of internal fire, and
are almost willing to admit the existence of Vulcan and the
Cyclops. Ancient Towns. — Several towns in this vicinity were fa
mous in the flourishing periods ofthe Roman empire. Cumae,
which gives name to the Cumasan Sibyl, was on the sea-shore,

Temples. 413
outside of the Bay of Naples. Baiae and Puzzuoli were on the
Bay of Baiae, and Campagna and Tripergola were near by. Puz
zuoli was about three miles from Avernus, and the baths of
Nero one mile — a mile more brings you to Baiae. We arrived
at the still lofty and imposing portal of Cumae, constructed of
small Roman bricks, in high preservation ; but before passing
beneath it, we ascended a hill to obtain a view of the ground
where Cumae lay. Along the sea-shore before us were spread
its widely-extended ruins. On this hill we found excellent
Cherries, the black Tartarean, luscious and entirely ripe. For
a trifle we were allowed as many as we pleased, and they were
highly refreshing in a hot day. The towns and villages near
the Bay of Baiae were anciently crowded with villas, temples,
and baths. Being the favorite resort of the rich, luxurious, and
pleasure-loving among the Romans, every place along the shore
was occupied : to gain room, they even erected their houses
upon piers built out into the water. Such ruins are to be seen
all along the shores of the Bay of Baias, lying more or less
buried in the banks of tufa. Cicero's villa was extensive
enough for a village, as appears from the great mass of ruins
still very conspicuous. Here Cicero composed his Questiones
AcademicaB, and it was in returning towards Rome from this
villa that he was brutally murdered, near Gaeta, by the soldiers
of Mark Anthony, in the 63d year of his age, and forty-six years
before Christ.
Temples. — Near and at Baiae we saw several temples in
ruins, but still beautiful. The names of Mercury, Venus, and
Diana are associated with them. That of Mercury is circular,
with a dome, and is nearly perfect. It is 146 feet in diameter,.
and was sky-lighted. This temple is a whispering gallery, as
we proved by trial : a whisper on one side of the temple was
distinctly heard on the opposite side. Another temple stands
very near the shore of the bay; its lofty brick walls, though
broken here and there, are thick and firm, and may yet endure
for many years. A third is in the side of a hill, and is a crum
bling ruin ; yet its walls still show its form.

414 Naples.
Lakes and Prisons.— We passed a lake called the Mare
Morto, and near it were the Elysian Fields of the ancients, now,
I believe, a vineyard. We saw, also, the Lake Fusaro, the
Acheron or Palus tenebrosa of Virgil, over which the souls
of the good passed into Elysium. But really (although I
regret to say it), if one would preserve his enthusiasm for the
scenes depicted by the great poet, he should never visit the
country in which they were laid, as he will find only a few in
significant lakes, used chiefly for rotting flax and hemp, and
those that, while bays or lagoons are connected with the sea, and
afford oysters. Lake Fusaro is famous for them, and we saw a
royal lodge in the midst of it, to which the king resorts for in
dulgence in this luxury. We passed the tomb of Agrippina,
mother of Nero, who was murdered by his command — thus he
added parricide to all his other crimes.
Prisons of Nero. — We crossed a field on foot to see the
prisons of Nero. They are horrid dens, far underground, and
having neither light nor fresh air. They are very extensive —
one avenue being above or below another, and they branch off
in numerous ramifications. That they were prisons admits of
no doubt, and if they were the dungeons of that monster, they
were well worthy of him. All ancient dungeons that I have seen
disgrace humanity. By torch-light we went down lower and
lower, and onward farther and farther, until we were almost
horrified with the interminable gloom, and, thinking of the cat
acombs under the church- of St. Sebastian at Rome, and of the
victims there (the master and pupils that wandered a returnless
distance), we were fain to retrace our steps to the light of day.
The Piscina Mirabile.— This name was given to a vast
reservoir, constructed by Lucullus, for the supply of soft water
to the inhabitants of the vicinity, and for the use of the Ro
man fleet at Misenum. We walked to it through a field, ind
saw first a large platform elevated a few feet only above the
soil. This was the roof of the reservoir, which was almost per
fect above, and the structure was truly astonishing below, as we
perceived when we descended into it by forty steps of stone,

The Mole and Bridge of the Puzzuoli. 415
which are still entire. It is 225 feet long, 76 broad, and 20
high. The roof was supported by 48 pillars of brick-work ;
they were very large and strong, and are still perfect, except
slight cracks produced by earthquakes. The water to fill it was
brought from a distance of several miles by an aqueduct, which
war has destroyed. How much is such a violation of the rights
of humanity to be regretted ! Pure air is the first physical want
of man, and pure water the second. Verily man is man's great
est foe ! This ancient work could, with a moderate expense, be
restored to a useful condition ; not so the aqueducts, by which
it was filled ; but even they, under a wise and vigorous gov
ernment, are probably not beyond recovery. In a few places
portions of the roof of the reservoir have fallen in, and these
fallen masses, like those at the baths of Caracalla and other
places which we have seen — being composed of bricks, and
stones, and mortar — are as firm as any natural conglomerate,
and from their thickness they appear like mountain ruins. This
reservoir is 2000 years old.
The Mole and Bridge of Puzzuoli. — The remains of
this grand structure, intended both as a bridge and as a break
water to form a large and secure harbor, are in full view from
the beach along which we rode. Of the 25 original arches,
13 remain, the intervening portions of the bridge having been
supported on piles. The piers or pillars which support the
arches, have subsided and risen again, like the columns and
basis of the Temple of Jupiter Serapis ; they contain, as has
been already stated, the same record inscribed by the borings
of the lithodomous muscles, which appear from 4 to 10 feet
above the waves.
Caligula connected this permanent pier with Baiae, by a
bridge of two rows of boats, 3600 feet long, secured by anchors
and covered with planks and sand so as to resemble the Appian
way. In imitation of Xerxes, who passed the bridge which he
had constructed over the Hellespont, Caligula was ambitious
of achieving a similar exploit, and when his own bridge was
finished he rode over it in triumph on a splendidly capar-

416 Naples.
isoned horse, and on a subsequent day in a triumphal chariot^
followed by the admiring and applauding crowd. A few
mouldering arches are all that now remain of this proud
monument. Amphitheatre of Puzzuoli. — There was a splendid am
phitheatre at Puzzuoli, which town must have been once a far
more populous and important place than now. The Romans
were not satisfied with the more intellectual entertainment of
the comic and tragic theatres. It seems to have been a na
tural result of their almost incessant wars against all mankind
— that they should delight in blood.
We visited this amphitheatre, which is one of the most
complete remaining. In its external form it is indeed perfect, no
part of the walls having been broken down, but within it is
very much dilapidated. The seats were made of stones laid in
mortar, and covered with stucco, which being broken up, it
gives the interior a rude appearance. The arena of this am
phitheatre is 187 feet by 130, and the entire diameter, from
outside to outside — estimated by the eye — may be 500 feet by
400. It is said to have been capable of containing 45,000 per
sons, which seemed to us an exaggeration.
We were much embarrassed to account for a part of the
structure, to which we have seen no parallel any where els0.
In the arena, and running through its longest diameter, there
is an opening apparently about 10 feet in width; and all
around on the periphery of the arena are other openings, like,
in form, to the hatchways of a ship, and they are repeated at
short distances. AU these apertures were, however,, so con
structed, as to be capable of being closed ; for this purpose
evidently, there is a ledge or groove (like that in the casing of
a door) for the purpose of admitting a cover to be placed
securely over. We did not understand the matter any better,
when we descended into an immense subterranean region,
extending beneath the entire amphitheatre, which is supported
upon grand pillars of brick-work, with arches extending from
one to another. This brick-work is as perfect as it was on the

Amphitheatre of Puzzuoli. 41 7
day when it was finished. It is evident that it has been pre
served in consequence of the cavity having been filled with a
volcanic pulp like that at Pompeii ; it has been removed from
the greater part of this subterranean world, but some of the
cavities are still filled with it. This underground area is very
large ; it is high and airy, and even pleasant.
Unable to understand the object of this literally deep mys
tery, we were not at all aided to an explanation by finding
in various parts of it, great numbers of Corinthian pillars of
white marble, neatly and deeply fluted and piled. They were
broken crosswise, evidently by violence. They may have been,
and probably were, parts of the amphitheatre. Were tbey cast
down and fractured by the insane zeal of iconoclasts, and if so,
why were they anxious to give them an honorable interment
in this vast sepulchre, into which they were evidently tum
bled not by earthquakes, which may indeed have overthrown
(possibly have broken) them — but then they would have been
left lying all around in the confusion in which they fell. They
could never have been placed where they now are, in any way
but by human aid.
I leave these enigmas without a solution. Probably the
subject has been elucidated by some of the Italian literati with
whose works I am not acquainted. It is difficult to understand
how the volcanic pulp was introduced. The Solfatara, however,
with its still active forces is indeed at hand, and it is sufficiently
elevated above the theatre to admit of the flow of water from
it as from Vesuvius : nor ought it to be objected that we have
no account of such a catastrophe, for few events of this nature
are recorded. Experience has shown, that as at Pompeii,
Herculaneum, Stabiae, and other towns in that vicinity, the most
appalling and calamitous events may happen, with very little
or no notice from the historians of the time.
In one of the arches of this amphitheatre leading from
without into the corridor, the panelled stucco is preserved : it
is handsome, but is not frescoed.
The corridors of this theatre are in high preservation.
Vol. 1.— 1^

418 Naples.
Among all the amphitheatres which we have hitherto exam
ined, that of Nismes is the most perfect, and this is the next.
The glory of the bay of Baiae is departed for ever. The
bright Italian sky indeed sheds its lustre over the placid waters,
and the risiijg sun gilds ruined villas and temples ; but the
fisherman draws his seine, where once anchored the Roman
fleet, and dries his net upon the strand where Cicero recreated
his leisure hours, by gathering with his friend the smooth peb
bles and polished shells whose lustrous porcelain still adorns
these shores.

END OF VOLUME FIRST.