Part 10

_10th._ A wet and rainy day. We left Bologna at eight in the morning, and had a dreary and unpleasant day's journey through a flat country, to Faenza, having only stopped to bait at a little village on the road.

_11th._ Left Faenza this morning, and arrived in the evening at Rimini, passing through Forti and Cecena. Every step we now advance is on heroic ground; and before entering Rimini near Savignano, we passed over the Rubicon, a little insignificant stream, though once the boundary of the most powerful state in the world. The bridge over the little river which flows by the gates of Rimini, is said to have stood for twenty centuries; and in the middle of the town is an ancient triumphal arch nearly as old. It was built by Augustus on his return from his victory over Marc Antony, and is a fine simple arch of stone, though now patched up with bricks. The town is small and dirty, and the _Leon Bianco_ is a wretched inn.

_12th._ Leaving Rimini we drove along the coast of the Adriatic, close to the sea shore. We saw the distant Appenines on our right, as yet only low hills covered with vineyards and towns, one of which, San Marino, situated on the top of a hill, is a small independent republic of about five thousand souls. Having dined at a little village on the road, we drove on through Pesaro to Fano. The surrounding country is rather mountainous, and seems to abound in defiles and narrow passes, which may easily account for the defeat of the Carthaginians by the Romans, in this neighbourhood. Fano is a small town, lying close upon the sea. The inn where we passed the night was remarkably good.

_13th._ We left Fano early in the morning, and with it the Adriatic; and turning off to the right, we entered into the Appenines and dined at Fossombrone, (probably modernized from Forum Sempronii,) a small and very old town, situated on the side of a hill not far from the spot where Hasdrubal was defeated and slain by the Roman Consuls, Nero and Sempronius. The country here begins to be very fine, but is not at all alpine. Through a wide and fertile valley runs the Metauro, a beautifully clear green stream. Quitting Fossombrone, we soon came to the _Forli_, a celebrated pass in the mountains, and a work of the old Romans. The rock in a narrow glen on the side of a small stream has been cut away in order to make the road, which then runs for some hundred yards through an arched gallery hollowed out of the solid stone; this work appears as if very lately finished, and the sublime and rocky scene around, beautifully relieved by the fine and varied autumnal tints of the shrubs, and by the white and foaming stream, is a most fitting spot for such a grand undertaking. Descending from the pass into the valley on the other side, we drove on through Aqualagna to Cagli, where we remained for the night, in a most wretched inn.

_14th._ We had a long drive from Cagli to Sigillo through a fine mountainous country, passing over some small Roman bridges, easily distinguished from those of modern times, by the gigantic size of the blocks of stone of which they are formed. Another remarkable object on this road is a bridge of great height, built over a deep ravine, in order to preserve the level of the road. It consists of a small arch thrown across the mountain stream, above which a complete circle or tunnel of nearly one hundred feet in diameter, has been built, and thus forms the support of the road. In one part of the mountain we observed some very curiously carved strata in the limestone rock which composes this chain. From Sigillo we proceeded in the afternoon to Nocera, passing on the road many a hill of stones surmounted by a wooden cross, the only monument of the unfortunate travellers who had perished in these wild and solitary spots, by the hands of the ferocious banditti, which still too often infest these parts of the Appenines. It was dark when we reached Nocera, and we here found the hotel as bad if not worse than at Cagli.

_15th._ We left Nocera at about half-past seven in the morning and reached Foligno by eleven. This latter place is a large and very dirty town, nor does there seem to be anything interesting in it or its vicinity. We quitted it at two o'clock, and drove on to Spoleto, passing along the banks of the Clytumnus, which Byron with truth calls

"A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest daughters,"

for every plant and leaf at the bottom, seems as if viewed through a clear and spotless crystal. A little above the source of this river, stands the temple of its god, of small and delicate proportions. The front is still in good preservation, but the roof is covered with tiles, and the sides are patched with bricks; and it is now apparently used as a stable or pig-sty, and the waters of the stream are polluted by ass-drivers and water-women.

We are now driving over roads once covered with the Carthaginian legions led on by Hannibal, rushing in all the fire of conquest from the field of Thrasymene; and in the evening we arrived at Spoleto, the town which offered him such stout resistance, when on his march to Rome, and before which he lay a fortnight. It lies on a hill, which renders the streets exceedingly steep; and besides this, they are narrow, dark and dirty. The only remarkable object in it is the gate called Hannibal's Gate, which is very ancient, and bears the following inscription on a marble tablet, celebrating his defeat and retreat from this town.

HANNIBAL CAESIS AD THRASYMENUM ROMANIS INFESTO AGMINE URBEM ROMAM PETENS AD SPOLETUM MAGNA STRAGE SUORUM REPULSUS INSIGNE PORTAE NOMEN FECIT.

So much for the days of old! A battalion of French troops would however now hardly allow themselves to be repulsed by the descendants of these victors of Hannibal.

_16th._ Leaving Spoleto, we passed by a very lofty aqueduct, which conveys the water from the mountains across the valley to the town. A mile or two further on we came to a very long hill, where we had two oxen added to our four horses, to ascend it. The descent on the other side to Terni is still longer: the pass through the mountains is in many places exceedingly narrow, and on each side of the road are lofty rocks; the mountains are wild and mostly uncultivated, and are chiefly covered with dark laurel bushes; on the whole road there is not a village for the poste, and half a dozen houses at Stretura hardly deserve the name of one. A mile or two before Terni the valley widens, and the dark laurel trees give place to groves of olives and green fields, whilst here and there a tall cypress is seen rising from out of the gardens near the town. I was much disappointed here, in not being able to see the celebrated Falls of the Velino, which are only five miles distant from Terni; but as Sir Humphry only stopped to bait, it was impossible for me to do so. There were many carriages at the inn, English, French, and Russian, but the company to whom they belonged were all gone to see the Falls.

Between Terni and Narni, we entered upon a wide and open though still hilly country, through which the Velino winds slowly along. Narni is certainly the most beautifully situated town that I have seen in the Appenines, lying at the side of a hill, at the foot of which the green waters of the Nera roll through a deep romantic glen, out of whose wooded sides gigantic masses of rock are seen to rise, in and upon which many old dwellings, now uninhabited, are discovered. The road from hence to Lavenga is fine and hilly, and between this latter and Otricoli, the mountains open, and show us in the distance Mount Soracte,

----"which from out the plain Heaves, like a long swept wave about to break, And on the curl hangs pausing,"

the Tiber winding slowly along, and, still further, another chain of distant mountains. The inn at Otricoli was the worst of the many bad ones we have met with among the Appenines, for there was literally nothing to be had in the house; and the only waiter who was to be seen was drunk.

_17th._ We left these wretched quarters at seven in the morning; and quitting the Appenines, soon afterwards crossed the Tiber, already a tolerably broad, but very muddy river. The whole country is volcanic, and the river seems to flow here through the crater of some tremendous volcano of a former world. At Borghetto, on the other side of the river, are the remains of an old castle, probably gothic. The sides of the roads, from hence to Citta Castellana, contain large masses of white garnet, and we passed by many craters, small and large, some only broad and deep pits, with trees growing out of the clefts of the lava rock; others filled up with earth, and now turned into cultivated fields. Citta, or Civita Castellana, is probably the ancient Veii, and must have been a very strong place in former days. The citadel, from which it takes its present name, is a large fort of half Roman, half Gothic architecture. Before entering the town we crossed a small river, which runs deep below through a wild and romantic fissure in the lava rocks, which surround the town, and of which the greater part of the houses are built. We passed through the town and over a bridge erected by Pius VI. A pompous Latin inscription consigns the name of this pope to posterity, for having ordered this bridge to be built. It is a good strong bridge, but nothing more. The Romans of old built and worked, and let others talk; those of the present day talk much and do nothing. We then drove on to Nepi, a small village, where we dined, and from hence through Monterosa to Baccano, which only consists of two inns, the poste and another, where the vetturini generally stop. Sir Humphry chose the latter, which we found very good. To-morrow we shall enter Rome, which is only two postes distant from us.

_18th._ Left Baccano at eight in the morning, and in about half an hour, from the top of the first hill, saw the Eternal City, with her seven hills, her towers, cupolas, monuments, and palaces, immediately before us, becoming more and more distinct as the sun dispersed the mists of the morning, and bringing with them the recollections of the times and deeds of old, and of the heroes, statesmen, orators, and poets, whose former dwellings were there, and whose fame still fills the world with admiration. On our left lay the long chain of the Appenines, above which rose Monte Velino, and some other of the more distant and snow-clad mountains, whilst nearer to Rome was seen the Alban Mount, and the hills of Tivoli. On the right lay the wide outstretching campagna, beyond which, although Sir Humphry doubted it, I am sure I saw the straight blue line of the Mediterranean. The carriage rolled on from hill to hill, each of which was covered with villas surrounded by trees, amongst which the tall cypress and the magnificent fan, or Mediterranean pine, were pre-eminent. At La Storta we reached the last hill;

----"Now the brow We gain enraptured; beauteously distinct The numerous porticoes and domes upswell, With obelisks and columns interposed, And pine, and fir, and oak; so fair a scene Sees not the dervise from the spiral tomb Of ancient Chammos, while his eye beholds Proud Memphis' reliques o'er the Egyptian plain: Nor hoary hermit from Hymettus' brow, Though graceful Athens in the vale beneath."

From hence a short drive brought us to the Tiber and to the Ponte Molle, a bridge of brick, built on the ancient foundations of the _Pons Molvii_, in front of which stands a handsome gateway and tower. Crossing this bridge, we drove along a straight broad street upwards of a mile in length, which ends at the Porta del Popolo, the entrance into Rome, and a magnificent entrance it is. The gate itself is fine, though not very elegant, but the view through it into the Piazza del Popolo is grand in the extreme, and strongly impresses the stranger with the feeling that he is entering into a magnificent city, the metropolis of religion and of the arts. In the middle of the Piazza, which is formed of two large semicircles, rises a superb obelisk of red granite, covered with hierogliphics; four lions of white marble spouting water into the basins before them, form part of the pedestal. In the centre of the back of each semicircle is a very elegant fountain in the shape of a colossal shell, and surmounted by groups of gigantic statues. Looking across the Piazza, three long streets present themselves to view; the middle the Corso; the one on the left, the Strada del Babuino; and to the right, the Strada di Ripetta. The ends of these streets, facing the Piazza, are formed by two elegant churches, perfectly similar in architecture, and above the left semicircle are seen the gardens of the Monte Pincio, the ascent to which, adorned by columns and statues, is not yet finished.

Having found our _lascia passare_ at the gate, we were permitted to drive to the hotel directly, and were not first conducted to the custom-house, as is the case with those who enter Rome without having procured, through some friend, the permission to pass, which is only given by the secretary of state.

At Serny's _Hôtel de Londres_, on the Piazza di Spagna, a large and open square, we were extremely well accommodated. It is a very large and grand establishment, occupying three different houses, and of course every thing is in the first style. What most strikes a stranger in the streets of Rome, are the numerous shops of mosaics, gems, and trinkets in marble and bronze, and a month and a fortune might be spent by those who have nothing better to do with their time and money, in admiring and selecting such objects. The Corso, or high street, the theatre of all the festivities during the carnival, is every afternoon thronged with carriages, which drive up and down in two lines, the one going, the other coming. This seems to be one of the principal amusements of the higher classes of Rome, and a senseless enjoyment it appears to me, for the greater part of the street is narrow, badly paved, and dark. The number of spectators from four till six o'clock, however, is very great. French is spoken in almost every shop, and the number of English is so great, that one hears nearly as much of that language spoken in the streets as of Italian.

_21st._ This afternoon I went to the colosæum, where I sat for some hours under the last of the upper arches of the outside circle, looking towards the magnificent church of St. John Lateran, over part of the ancient walls of Rome, and the remaining arches of two old aqueducts, and down upon gardens and vineyards, in many of which are the ruins of ancient buildings and temples; whilst the view over the surrounding _campagna_ is bounded by the blue Appenines, and on the right by the Alban Mount. From the inner wall I looked down from row to row over the dark and ruined arches of the seats, now picturesquely overgrown with shrubs, ivy, and grass, and which were then beautifully tinged with the rays of the setting sun, into the vast arena beneath, formerly the scene of many a savage sport for the amusement of a cruel people, but now only ornamented by the broken shafts and capitals of pillars which once adorned it; and disfigured by the many altars erected by pious devotees, breaking the harmony of the whole, and only serving to shew the magnitude and beauty of the ancient pillars, contrasted with the smallness and insignificance of the modern ones. In the centre of the arena, a large wooden cross has been erected, which is devoutly kissed by the lips of every pious Catholic who passes by. Immediately opposite to me the circle of arches was broken, and let in the view of the near and distant country, where many a tall cypress and pine rose amid the foundations of the old palace of the Cæsars, to the left of which, amid the trees, appeared the pyramidal monument of Caius Sestius. From another side I looked down upon the triumphal arches of Constantine and Titus, upon the colossal remains of the baths of Caracalla, and upon the ruins of temples and palaces, and over modern Rome, to the distant cupola of St. Peter's.

Quitting this mighty ruin, which, together with the arch of Titus, the Popes have been, and still are, engaged in patching up with bricks and mortar, thus destroying the harmony and beauty of the ancient architecture, I returned to Serny's through the ancient Roman Forum, (now the Campo Vaccino,) where lie the chief relics of the former grandeur of the queen of cities. Here are the arches of Constantine, of Titus, and of Septimus Severus; the ruins of temples, baths, and imperial palaces; ruins which have afforded to antiquarians so much matter for research and for dispute, and which are regularly described in the works of every modern traveller in Italy.

_3rd December._ We remained at Serny's till the first of December, as Sir Humphry found it no easy thing to find a lodging suited to him so late in the year; on the 28th, however, he found apartments at the corner of the Via di Pietra, which he liked, and we entered them on the 1st of December. They are situated in a good part of the city, and look out on the Corso.

_31st._ Our daily life has been hitherto as monotonous as possible. Sir Humphry sees no society, and wishes to see none, and his only pleasure and amusement seems to consist in shooting. He drives out every day in the surrounding _campagna_, often to a distance of twelve and fourteen miles from Rome, when he gets out and rides on his pony over the fields in search of quails or snipes. On his return, when he is not too much fatigued, he dictates to me a continuation of his "Vision," which he thinks of forming into a series of dialogues on religion and other subjects; and our evenings are spent, as they have been ever since we left Calais, with a game or two at cards, and with my reading to him different works, principally English and French, which he procures from a circulating library in the Corso. I have formed no acquaintances, as Sir Humphry wishes me not to do so; but when I have copied off the morning's dictation, I often take a solitary walk in the gardens of the Pincio, to St. Peter's, or to the Colosæum.

On Christmas-day I went to hear the Pope celebrate grand mass at St. Maria Maggiore. The whole of the interior of this beautiful church was superbly illuminated, more especially near and round the high altar, in front of which the Swiss guards were drawn up in a semi-circle, and prevented all who were not dressed in black from approaching it. Unaccustomed to the _grandeur_ of the Catholic service, I could not but admire the magnificent dresses of the Pope and the cardinals, and the grand and impressive music and chaunting. At twelve o'clock, when the service was concluded, a line was formed down the grand aisle, through which the Pope and the cardinals retired to the sacristy, to lay aside their splendid, but weighty dresses. His Holiness was carried in a superb throne, supported on the shoulders of his attendants, whilst above him was held a splendid canopy, and on each side large and beautiful fans of feathers and gold. The Pope's Swiss guards, who always attend his Holiness when he quits his palace, are, if possible, a caricature of our beef-eaters. They are forty in number, all Swiss, and many of them do not even speak Italian. On grand fête days they wear steel helmets and breastplates instead of the ancient cap and slashed doublet, which, with black, red, and yellow-striped breeches and stockings, form their usual dress, and in their hands they always carry a long halbert or pike.

_1st January, 1829._ The only festivities either to be seen or heard which announce the new year in Rome, consist in the discharge of a few cannon early in the morning from the Fort St. Angelo, (formerly the mausoleum of Hadrian, but now the citadel of Rome and state-prison,) and the celebration of grand mass at St. John Lateran.

_10th._ Sir Humphry this afternoon received a parcel from England, which he has for some days been expecting with the greatest impatience. It was the "Quarterly Review," containing Sir Walter Scott's critique on "Salmonia," which Sir Humphry begged me to read to him directly, and he seemed highly pleased with the manner in which Sir Walter speaks of his work.

_1st February._ A short time ago a considerable part of the city was illuminated in honour of eight newly-elected cardinals, whose palaces, as well as those of the Roman nobili, were adorned with large wax torches, placed two or more in each window, whilst the houses of the citizens were lighted with small transparent paper lanterns, on which the papal arms were painted.

The daily drive on the Corso is now often enlivened by many gay equipages and servants in splendid liveries, the gayest of which are those of the Russian Archduchess Helena, and the King of Bavaria. I have been twice to the theatre; there are several, and they all opened on the 7th of January. The two principal ones, Argentina and Valle, are small, and by no means striking.