CHAPTER XIV
THE ABBEY OF TRINITÀ DELLA CAVA, SALERNO, AND THE RUINED MAJESTY OF PÆSTUM
The arms of the ancient city of Majori are the most apt that could possibly be devised. Upon an azure field the city bears a sprig of marjoram--in token, surely it must have been in token, of the rare and memorable beauty of its mountain-sides, where a sea so blue that nothing out of heaven can surpass it laps about the base of cliffs which in spring-time are from top to bottom and from end to end one fragrant field of aromatic and delicious odours. The scented myrtle is knee-deep. The rosemary and marjoram root themselves in every cleft, and a thousand other herbs growing rank along the mountain-side catch every breeze that blows and fill the air, especially in the morning when the shadows are still wet and the day has not yet grown languorous, with thymy fragrances blown out of every hollow and ravine. Meantime among the grass and herbage of the cliffs the flowers glow like an Eastern carpet. The white gum-cistus stars the hillside thickly, and the anemones cluster in soft banks of colour, while up and down the banks crimson cyclamens burn little tongues of flame, and over all waves the graceful asphodel.
It is when one climbs the hill on the Salerno road beyond Majori that these sweet sights and odours are encountered. But first the way passes through Minori, dipping down to the sea-level at the marina of that little town, which now has no industry but fishing, yet once harboured ships and traders from the East. No one of these townlets is devoid of interest, yet when a man travels by this road he is afire to reach the greater beauty further on, and will not tarry to collect the broken fragments of an old tradition at this point. The road emerges from the houses, and in a little way it frees itself from the hills and enters the wider valley of Majori, running out on a wide, pleasant beach, where an avenue of trees gives shelter from the sun. On the right-hand the fishers are drawing up their nets, women hauling with the men, while on the left the ancient town lies open in a broad, straight street, surmounted by the castle which in old days could not save it from the Pisan onslaught, and in modern ones has nothing left to guard. It is not, however, this landward castle which lingers in the memory of the traveller as he turns his memory back upon this beautiful and breezy beach. It is rather the tower, not near so ancient, which juts out to the sea at the very point of the cliff formed by the downward slope of the Monte dell'Avvocata. That vast mountain wall descends so steeply that it seems to forbid access to this pleasant valley from the outer world; and just where the dark and shadowy rock touches the blue sea the castle is approached by three high and slender arches carrying a bridge. It is one of the coast towers erected as a refuge from the incursions of sea-rovers, belonging to the same group of fortifications as the Castello di Conca, or the Torre dello Ziro at Atrani.
The castle stands out finely in the shadow of the hill. The blue sea is warm and soft. Far away towards Salerno a dim gleam from time to time betrays the mountains of Cilento, snow-capped and wreathed in clouds. The road climbs upward from the beach, winding round the headland with continually growing beauty. The rock forms are superb; and as the way rises on the flank of the sweet-scented mountain it passes ravine upon ravine, each one cleft down to the blue water's edge, a shadowy precipice fringed by the soft spring sunshine. The road mounts. The ravines grow deeper. The washing of the sea dies away to a pleasant far-off murmur; and at last one attains the summit of the Capo d'Orso, and pauses to absorb the immense beauty of the prospect.
As one stands upon this height one perceives that the creek upon which Amalfi is built has receded into its true position as no more than a single inlet in a wide bay which extends from Capo di Conca to Capo d'Orso, at least five miles as the crow flies, and includes other indentations of no less size.
It is by the size and importance of this bay that the old consequence of Amalfi should be measured rather than by what stood upon the city site itself. The historian Hallam, when he visited this coast, doubted the tradition of commercial greatness, remarking that the nature of the ground and the proximity of the mountains to the sea can never have admitted the growth of a city whose transactions were really vast. He does not seem to have realised that Amalfi was a group of cities, of which, perhaps, no one was very large, but each had its own vigorous life, each one contributed some distinct element to the strength and valour of the commonwealth. Doubtless, also, all vied together to promote the glory of the whole.
After crossing Capo d'Orso the road descends, and its beauty decreases, until one sees Cetara, the old cliff town which was the limit of the Duchy of Amalfi, and for many years a nest of Saracens; and further on Vietri, standing quaint and beautiful upon the sea.
At Vietri we must turn inland, for though the greater beauty of the sea coast has led us away from the high valley of La Cava, yet the ancient abbey on the mountain-side above that summer resort is famous by too many titles for us to pass it by. A pleasant road leads inland from the pretty little port. Ere long the highway up the valley is abandoned for a winding lane, which climbs and climbs till it comes out at last on a small white village, nestling under the slopes of higher hills. The air is keen upon this lofty ground. Spring has not yet advanced so far as on the coast, but all the brown coppice on the mountain slopes is flushing into green, and the serrated ridge that jags the skyline is lit and obscured by flying light and shadow.
All the air is musical with streams and fragrant with the scent of fresh-sawn wood. Plodding cautiously along the mountain path come the mules laden with sawn boughs for vine-poles; and on a stair which mounts to the level of the abbey out of the deep valley-bottom children are carrying up long bundles of fresh-smelling laths. The abbey stands half-way down the narrow valley, a solitude of wood and mountain. The church is of the period when piety proved its zeal by destroying fine building which it was unable to replace, but beneath it are many remnants of the ancient beauty, and even in the church itself, glittering with gold and undistinguished paintings, one may see in the south-east chapel a fragment of primæval rock covered with rough frescoes, which recalls strangely the memory of an age in which the monks sought heaven by a ruder path than that which they tread now. If one descends into the crypt, that austere impression grows the deeper. Here is nothing splendid, but construction which is simple, solid, and severe. There is a noble courtyard and a cavernous crypt, in which lie the bones of Lombard princes loosely stacked with those of others of less note, all equal now, the greater undistinguished from the less. Some came hither humbly clad as pilgrims; and indeed in early days, when faith impelled men forth on pilgrimage from every land, this great abbey, lying so near both to Amalfi and Salerno, must have heard the orisons of those who spoke in many tongues.
Pilgrims who sought the Holy Land travelled very frequently on ships belonging to this coast. They came sometimes in penance and sometimes in love. Some travelled laden with fetters made of the steel with which they had slain a neighbour, some bore no other burden than the staff and scrip; but both alike came over the Alps from northern countries in astonishing numbers, and all were cared for as they came or went by that abounding charity which is the great glory of the Middle Ages. "In richer places," declared an ordinance of the Emperor Lewis the Pious in the year 816, "two-thirds of the wealth given to the clergy shall be set aside for the poor; in poorer places one-half." Out of these funds hospitals to shelter pilgrims were placed on every lonely tract where they might be stayed by the necessities of travel, on mountain roads where night might overtake them far from hospitable dwellings, by bridgeless rivers which might be made impassable by flood. Churchmen and laity vied with each other to ease the way of these wanderers of God, and the care with which edicts were issued relating to the maintenance of the hospices testifies to the greatness of the numbers which, but for the piety of the faithful, must have perished in the wilderness.
In this passionate devotion to the sacred places originated the kingdom of the Normans in southern Italy and Sicily. For a band of Normans returning from the Holy Land on a ship of Salerno were still in that city, then a Lombard duchy, when the Saracens landed to exact the tribute which they extorted at certain or uncertain intervals. The proud pilgrims resented the insolent demand, and at the permission of the duke attacked the followers of Mahomet and drove them off. Then followed the usual tale of profuse gratitude, territorial concessions, and ultimate subjection to the stranger. Thus it is not for nothing that Norman pilgrims are recalled to our memory at La Cava.
The abbey has rendered to the world priceless services by the careful preservation of its records. Manuscripts of inestimable value lie stored in the long presses of its library; and for the last two centuries have formed the chief resource of historians of southern Italy. Lying as La Cava does on the edge of the ground over which Lombards, Saracens, and Normans wrestled for dominion, her records have an absolutely vital interest, and many a scholar turns his mind towards that quiet library among the mountains with reverence almost as deep as the ancient pilgrims felt for the abbey church.
There is not very much of interest upon the way from the abbey to Salerno, saving only the exquisite beauty of the sea, which grows bluer as the day increases. But in approaching the old city, which was once so famed among physicians, one passes by the arches of an ancient aqueduct, which reminds me that I undertook to explain why the Isles of the Sirens are called "I Galli." You think the moment has gone by for speaking of the islets? By no means. This is the proper place, for in this city of Salerno dwelt an enchanter who knew more about their origin than any other man.
This enchanter was called Pietro Bajalardo--there are other forms of his name, but we need not be exact. The aqueduct reminded me of him because he is said to have built it by his magic powers just as Virgil with the same black art constructed the Grotto of Posilipo. It may have been the success of this great feat which inspired him with the idea of rendering to Salerno a service even more important, and providing it with a good safe harbour. This is a thing which all Salernitans have desired ardently from very early days, and on the possible construction of which they have based such hopes of eminence that, as they say--
"Si Salierno avesse 'o puorte Napule sarria muorte!"
This neighbourly aspiration it was which Pietro set himself to encourage; and he asked of the eager townsmen one thing only, namely, that they should forthwith slaughter all the cocks in the city, so that when his legions of fiends were engaged in their gigantic task they might not be disturbed and frightened by that sound which all sinners have loathed since the days of the Apostle Peter. So light a condition was complied with gladly. All day Salerno was filled with the sound of expiring cackles; and night descended with the comfortable belief that for once her stillness would reign unbroken by the officious trumpeting which bade her go.
Pietro was at work in the window of his high tower. Through the dark air legions of devils came and went to do his bidding. Fast they sped over the silent sea, carrying huge blocks of limestone from the Punta di Campanella. The sky was crossed and recrossed thickly with wondrous potencies and powers, while all the city lay and held its breath. All, that is to say, save one old woman, who loved her cock too much to slaughter him. The harbour was very little to her, the cock was much. So she hid him under an old pan, and went to bed hoping he would be discreet. But the bird smelt the approach of dawn in his confinement, and announced it with an indignant screech. Away flew the demons, tumbling over each other in their fright. In their haste to be gone they let drop into the sea the big blocks they were carrying, and never by any art could be induced to take up their task again. The blocks they dropped are now the islands of "I Galli," that is to say, "The Cocks," and if any man is so incredulous as to doubt this tale, he may very fairly be asked to keep his incredulity to himself until he has found another explanation of the name.
In the cathedral of Salerno many men will be interested in many things. Some will delight in its beautiful forecourt, arcaded with antique pillars and adorned with marbles brought from Pæstum. Some will marvel at the fine mosaic of the pulpit, others at the ancient chest of ivory kept in the sacristy, while some will even take pleasure in the gorgeous decoration of the lower church, with its huge statue of St. Matthew, or rather its two statues set back to back, so that the apostle turns a face toward either altar, thus giving point to the local gibe, "He is double faced (tene doje facce) like San Matteo." But I set aside these things and others with a passing glance, and go straight up to a chapel in the eastern end of the great church, on the south side of the choir, where, slumbering in a peace which rarely blessed him while he lived, lies the greatest of all popes, Gregory the Seventh.
In the Duomo at Naples we paused before the tomb of Innocent the Fourth, who fought and won the last battle between Papacy and Empire, the last, that is to say, which really counted in that long and awful rivalry. Never after the victory of Innocent did the Emperor, the great world Sovereign, occupy the same pinnacle in men's minds again. The theory of his position was not altered; but in practice the Pope had demonstrated its futility, and set himself, Christ's Vicar upon earth, supreme at the head of all mankind. Once or twice the Empire flickered into life, but the issue was unchanged.
This overthrow of the Empire by the Pope is one of those events which have profoundly modified the history of Europe and the world. If Innocent completed it, Gregory began it. He, first of all popes, dared to initiate the fight. His clear brain, his high, stern courage, planned the complete release of the Papacy from dependence upon the Empire. With a quick perception of the legal weakness of his cause, he linked the support of privilege with that of chastity, and thus appealing to that which mediæval men esteemed the loftiest and most saintly of all virtues, gave his attitude a moral greatness which it did not derive from inherent principle. He attacked the Empire while it was still near its highest power, clothed in the traditions of Charlemagne and Otho the Great. He did not fear to question the prerogative of the lord of the world, the King of the Romans, who made or unmade popes. When the Emperor resisted, he dared to declare him dethroned; and ere long after the issue of that declaration the great Cæsar had crossed the Alps a suppliant for pardon, and stood bareheaded, clothed in the woollen garment of a penitent, in the courtyard of the castle at Canossa, waiting humbly till the Pope should admit him to his presence.
There, prostrate in the snow, lay the only power which could measure itself against the Pope. There fell, once and for all, the supreme dominion of the Empire. Three days and nights the Emperor waited upon Gregory's will. It was an awful victory, the humiliation of the lord of kings, the temporal head of all mankind became the footstool of his spiritual brother. In vain that very Emperor ere long abandoned his humility, and drove Gregory to exile in Salerno, where he died. In vain many another Emperor fought and struggled for the old supremacy. The world had seen the Emperor a suppliant waiting in the snow, and could not forget it. This, for good or evil, was the deed of Gregory who sleeps here at Salerno. "I have loved justice and hated iniquity," he said in dying, "therefore I die in exile." Did he in truth act only from those pure motives? It may be so, for indeed he and other popes of the same age were great idealists. He died in exile thinking his cause lost, when in fact it was absolutely won. There are those among us who look on the Papacy with fear, and some with hope; but all alike, if they think at all, regard it as big with destiny, and charged with most potent influences on the future of mankind. Therefore this tomb in the Duomo of Salerno is one of the most interesting upon earth. In days far distant from our own the bones of him who first lifted St. Peter's chair to world-wide supremacy may be cursed or blessed, but forgotten they can never be.
We men and women of to-day, regardful only of the accomplished fact, contemptuous of the power of ideals, and profoundly careless of the teachings of history, dismiss these matters very lightly from our minds as having been settled in the "Settanta" when the Italians entered Rome. This is a mere error bred of ignorance. The old strife of Guelf and Ghibelline is raging still. Once again the Papacy is at war with a monarchy, with one, moreover, which is by no means founded on the rock of Christ, as was the Holy Roman Empire, nor supported by the prescriptive glories of Charlemagne or of the Cæsars. The rival which possessed those vast advantages was brought to stand humbly in the snow at Canossa. What will be the issue of the present contest? It is idle to speculate. Faith and asceticism, two strong weapons of the mediæval popes, no longer stir mankind to action. We can only sit and watch, remembering that thirty years are but as a day in the judgment of the oldest of all human institutions. Kingdoms rise and fall. They change their form and develop into other constitutions. The Church of Rome is the only organism on earth which neither changes nor develops. How should it do either, when it claims to be a mere expression of eternal law?
It was a weary journey which one made in old days from Salerno through Battipaglia to Pæstum. The plain which in Greek hands overflowed with fertility has long been but roughly cultivated, and fever has wrought its fatal work with little check among the dwellers on the neglected flats. It was an unsafe journey too, for the main road through the lonely country was infested by brigands who, though they practised chiefly among the native proprietors, yet rejoiced greatly when they met a wealthy stranger unattended by carabineers. The years following the expulsion of the Bourbons in 1860 witnessed a terrible recrudescence of the scourge. Manzi was the most ferocious of the bandits in this region. He haunted chiefly the oak forest of Persano, on the further side of Pæstum, and on any alarm his band used to disperse to hiding-places which they only knew among the mountains. But now the brigands have been hunted down, and the land sleeps in peace. The fever, too, is less, thanks to the eucalyptus, whose red stems and glossy foliage spread far and wide across the swampy ground beside the milky rivers. The time may yet come when Pæstum will be a rose garden again, though never more, so far as human intelligence can make a forecast, will the crafts or eager life of a crowded city displace the husbandmen from the wide plains between the mountains and the sea. The Italian races, compact into one strong people, have fixed the centre of their life on other spots, and the day of Pæstum will no more return.
How great a day it was! Time, which has dealt so hardly with the cities of the Italian mainland, has preserved here, in solitary grandeur, the evidence of splendours which elsewhere are but a dream. Cumæ is a rubbish heap, Sybaris and Croton have perished everlastingly. Taranto is overbuilt into the semblance of a mediæval if not a modern city. Brindisi is paltry and Otranto dead. At Pæstum only on the mainland, thanks to the expulsion of the last handful of its citizens eleven centuries ago, three temples stand erect out of the waste of herbage which has strewn itself over the ruined streets and market-places. There alone we can comprehend the lost greatness of that Hellenic people whose submersion by barbaric onslaught must be counted as the greatest misfortune which has befallen the human race.
It is no great wonder that the Greeks, having once overcome the terrors of the ocean on the night side of the world, crossed over in large numbers to the fair coasts which are in sight from the Albanian mountains. So short a ferry must have been constantly at work. There are still Greeks in Italy--not Greeks by descent alone, nor of Greek origin mixed with other elements, but Greeks of pure blood and speech. No less than twenty thousand of them dwell in two colonies in southern Italy, one in the Terra d'Otranto, the other some twenty miles south-east of Reggio. Neither maintains communications with the other, nor does either possess traditions of its origin. Both maintain themselves apart from the surrounding people, whom they call "Latinoi." Their language is unwritten. It differs from modern Romaic, and is apparently not derived from the Greek spoken in the cities of Magna Grecia. The colonists are probably descendants of immigrants who came from Greece not later than the eleventh century, or perhaps in those earlier days when refugees crowded into Italy for shelter from the fury of the iconoclasts.
But whencesoever these mysterious colonies came, they have shown not a trace of the great heart and spirit which animated the earliest settlers of their race upon Italian shores. Pæstum, or rather Poseidonia, to give it its Greek name, was a city less ancient than Cumæ. It was not founded by settlers direct from Greece. It was a colony thrown off by Sybaris, that great city of Calabria which became a byword of luxury while Rome was young and counted for little in the Italian land. Five centuries before Christ was born that mighty city was destroyed by its rival Croton, destroyed so utterly that the River Krathis was led over the ruins; yet Poseidonia, its distant colony, still remembered the greatness of her origin, and grew and flourished splendidly, till she became the mightiest town of all this coast, powerful upon sea, potent to thrust back the swarming tribes which looked down enviously from the mountains on her wealth.
All the city's life is lost and forgotten. What we know of her greatness and her beauty is revealed by no records, but by the tangible evidence of indestructible things. Her coins are numerous exceedingly and of the purest beauty. They prove her abounding wealth. Whence that wealth came is suggested by the fact that the city gave her name to the whole gulf, which could scarcely have happened had she not been great upon the sea. Poseidon was the tutelary deity of the city, and on her coins he appears brandishing his trident, a mighty emblem of sea empire. These coins prove, too, the perfection of the art for which the city was renowned. When Phocæan Greeks founded the once famous city of Velia, some twenty miles away, it was to Poseidonia that they came for instruction in the art of building, drawn doubtless by the desire to match the superb temples which we see to-day, the envy of our builders as of theirs, though we, less fortunate, can summon no citizen of Poseidonia to teach us what our hearts and minds cannot of themselves design.
It must have been a proud and splendid life which throbbed itself out upon this spot. At last the savage mountaineers stormed the city. Greek aid from Epirus gave back its liberty, but to no purpose. The mountain warriors returned and were quelled at last only by the onward march of Rome, which imposed on Poseidonia another servitude and changed its name to Pæstum. Thenceforwards nothing was left to the Greek citizens but their regrets, which they wept out yearly in a mournful festival, telling over the greatness of the days that had been. Even the mourning has been done these twelve centuries and more, yet still the temples stand there silent and deserted, and the walls mark out the empty circuit of the city.
Virgil, when he came near the end of his poem upon husbandry, and, perceiving the limits of his space, sketched out briefly what other subjects he might have treated, spoke of the twice-flowering roses of Pæstum as if the gardens where they bloomed were the loveliest he knew. There are none now. Only such flowers grow at Pæstum still as flourish in a rough, coarse soil, or can exist in the scant foothold of mould which has collected on the friezes of the temples. High up, where the shattered reddish stone seems to touch the cloudless sky, the blossoming weeds run riot. The mallow flaunts its blood-red flowers on the architrave, and the ruddy snap-dragon looks down into the inmost places of the temple. Over all there is a constant twittering of little birds. The lizards, green and brown, flash in and out among the vast shadows of the columns. They will stop and listen if you whistle to them, raising their heads and peering round in delight with any noise which breaks the long, deathly silence of the city. Beyond the shadow white oxen are ploughing languidly in the thick heat, and across two fields the sea is breaking on a shore as lonely as it was when the Greeks from Sybaris first beached their galleys there. Perhaps they found a city there already. Lenormant was inclined to think so; and it is certainly strange that the Greek name was so completely driven out by the Roman, unless the latter be an older name revived. But though all men use the Latin appellation, and though their scanty knowledge of the city is largely gained from Latin writers, yet the glory of the place is Greek, and neither Roman nor barbarian added to its lustre. Some day men will excavate upon this ground, of which the surface has been barely scratched. They will unearth the tombs outside the city gate, in some of which remarkable paintings have been found already. They will lay bare the foundations of all the crowded city, houses, streets, and temples, and declare once more in the clear sunlight how great and splendid was this city of Neptune, which the course of time has reduced to three vast temples standing in a lonely waste.
The grandest of the three temples is that assigned, probably enough, to Poseidon. It cannot be much less ancient than the city itself, and out of Athens there is not a nobler example of Greek architecture, unless it be at Girgenti, where the Temple of Concord is perhaps as fine and somewhat more perfect. It is Doric in style. Its fluted pillars, somewhat short in proportion to their mass, give the building an aspect of gigantic bulk; its heavy architrave, the austerity of its design, the dull red hues with which rain and storm have stained the travertine, all combine to leave a rare impression on the mind. The space within seems strangely narrow. One realises why the early Christians rejected the Greek form of temple, designed for acts of worship paid by individuals singly, and took the model of their churches from the Basilica, in whose spacious hall the congregation which professed to be a brotherhood might assemble at its ease. No congregation could have met in this vast Neptune temple. From the busy market-place outside, the central spot of all the crowded city, worshippers slipped in one by one beneath the shadowy colonnade.
There is a so-called Basilica here, but the name is of no authority, and the building is probably a temple. Wide differences of opinion exist about its date, but none about its beauty. The third temple shows marks of differing styles, and while in part it may be coeval with the foundation of the city, it was probably retouched during the period of Roman rule.
Such are the visible remains of Pæstum. In all Italy there is no more interesting spot. Not Rome itself, which ruled the habitable world, has cast over mankind a spell so mighty as these Greek cities, which scarcely aimed at rule beyond their walls, and cared nothing for the lust of wide dominion. Conquest was not in their hearts, but the desire of beauty burned there more passionately than ever before or after, creating loveliness which has gone on breeding loveliness and wisdom which has not ceased begetting wisdom, while kingdoms have crumbled into dust and conquerors have earned no better guerdon than forgetfulness; so that still men look back on the life of the Greek cities as the very flower of human culture, the finest expression of what may be achieved by heart and soul and brain aspiring together. The cities perished, but the heritage to mankind remains, kindling still the desire for that beauty in form, thought, and word which was attained upon these coasts more than twenty centuries ago. And if the heritage was for mankind, it was first of all for Italy, that noble land which has been the scene of every kind of greatness, which has been burdened with every shame and sorrow that can afflict mankind, yet is rising once more into strength which will surely dismay her slanderers and shame those who seek to work her ruin. And so I lay down my pen, with a faith in the future which turns ever back to the noblest song yet sung of Italy:--
"Salve magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus, Magna virûm; tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis Ingredior...."
APPENDIX
_Page 6._ The story of the French knights who misunderstood the warning shots from Ischia is told in Brantôme's Life of Dragut, No. 37 of the "Vies des Hommes Illustres." Concerning Vittoria Colonna there is, of course, a considerable literature. A pleasant and readable account of her life is contained in _A Decade of Italian Women_, by T. A. Trollope (Chapman and Hall, 1859).
_Page 7._ The tale of Gianni di Procida is Novella VI. of the fifth day of the _Decameron_.
_Page 9._ The common tale about the origin of the Sicilian Vespers is that Gianni di Procida, who is sometimes spoken of as having suffered in his own family from the lustful dealings of the French soldiery, and sometimes only as sympathising with the islanders in their intolerable wrongs, went through the island in disguise, beating a drum and capering up to whomsoever he met. If it were a Frenchman, he screamed some mad jest in his ear; if a Sicilian, he whispered some information about the projected rising, which was to take place at the signal of the Vesper bell ringing in Palermo. But for this tale there is no historical authority. Procida had certainly some connection with the revolt; but so far as can be discovered, the actual outbreak was unpremeditated, and the name of the Sicilian Vespers is applied to the massacre by no writer earlier than the latter part of the fifteenth century. The great authority on this subject is of course Amari, _La Guerra del Vespro Siciliano_.
_Page 9._ Virgil the enchanter. See note on p. 55.
_Page 21._ It is impossible to give separate references to all the authorities which I have consulted in writing this chapter. The work which I have found most valuable--incomparably so--is the _Campanien_ of Beloch, which outstrips both in learning and in judgment all works known to me upon the Phlegræan Fields. It may be said, once for all, that with hardly one exception, the best works upon the region of Naples are by Germans. English scholarship does not appear to advantage. If a man will not read German, he may seek information usefully from Breislak, _Topograpia Fisica della Campania_ (Firenze, 1798). Other useful works are:--Phillips, J., _Vesuvius_ (Oxford, 1869); Daubeny, C. G. B., _A Description of Volcanoes_ (London, 1848); Logan Lobley, _Mount Vesuvius_ (London, 1889); to which should be added the "Physical Notices of the Bay of Naples," by Professor Forbes, in Brewster's _Edinburgh Journal of Science_, vol. x. All these works treat of the Phlegræan Fields, as well as of Vesuvius.
_Page 24._ The treatise of Capaccio will be found in the collection of chronicles which bears the name of Grævius, but was, in fact, completed after the death of that great scholar by Peter Burmann. The collection is an honour to Leyden, where it was published full half a century before Muratori commenced his work.
_Page 26._ This gossip about the Grotta del Cane is derived chiefly from a small guide to the locality, published early in the present century.
_Page 37._ Petrarch's account of his visit to the Phlegræan Fields will be found among his Latin verse epistles (_Carm._ lib. ii. epist. 7).
_Page 41._ Upon the theory that Cumæ was founded so early as a thousand years before Christ, I translate as follows from Holm (_Geschichte Griechenlands_, vol. i. p. 340), the most recent of authorities, and perhaps the most judicious:--"It is scarcely credible that an organised Greek city existed in these regions in such early times. But it need not be questioned that scattered settlements of Greeks were already established on the Campanian coast a thousand years before Christ; and it cannot be doubted that Cumæ is the earliest Greek colony, recognised as such, in the West.... Cumæ also became the mother city of Naples, but at what precise date cannot be determined."
_Page 45._ The dyke of Hercules. See Beloch, _Campanien_.
_Page 52._ For the Villa of Vedius Pollio, as well as for all the other antiquities of this region, see Beloch, _Campanien_.
_Page 53._ The story of the Grotta dei Tuoni is one of the interesting pieces of folklore collected by Signor Gaetano Amalfi, to whose unwearied labours I acknowledge gratefully many debts. It was published in the periodical called _Napoli Nobilissima_ in 1895.
_Page 55._ For the stories of the enchanter Virgil, see Comparetti, _Virgilio nel Mediævo_. The tale of the plundering of Virgil's tomb in the reign of Roger of Sicily is taken from the same work, where it is told on the authority of Gervasius of Tilbury. It was a widely credited tale, and will be found also in Marin Sanudo, _Vite dei Dogi_, p. 232 of the fine new edition of Muratori, now (1901) being issued under the direction of Giosuè Carducci, an enterprise which is remarkable both for scholarship and beauty, and deserves the more praise since it emanates from no great city, but from the printing house of Scipione Lapi at Città di Castello, on the upper valley of the Tiber.
_Page 65._ The traditions of Queen Joanna are well set out by Signor Amalfi in _La Regina Giovanna nella Tradizione_ (Naples, 1892), a little work which, though no other exists upon the subject, the British Museum disdains to purchase. Mr. Nutt procured me a copy, though with some difficulty. The book is not as complete as it might be; it contains, for example, no reference to the traditions of the Queen at Amalfi.
_Page 71._ For Alfonso of Aragon, see Guicciardini, _Istoria d'Italia_, lib. i. cap. 4. Most of my history is taken from this writer.
_Page 72._ For an account of San Lionardo, as well as for the subsequent tale of the Torretta, see _Napoli Nobilissima_ (1892).
_Page 81._ Niccolò Pesce. See _Nap. Nob._ (1896). Schiller's ballad, "Der Taucher," will of course be found in any collection of his works.
_Page 88._ The best book on the Hohenstaufen is Von Räumer, _Geschichte der Hohenstaufen_, a very fine and interesting work. Frederick loved more than Arab art, unless history is unjust. Amari speaks of him and his grandfather, King Roger, as "i due Sultani battezzati di Sicilia."
_Page 97._ Upon the vexed question where Palæopolis stood, or if it stood anywhere at all, Beloch seems a little wilful, arguing stoutly that there never was such a city. "But," says Mr. Hodgkin, "in the face of Livy's clear statement (viii. 22) as to the situation of the two cities, and the record in the Triumphal Fasti of the victory of Publilius over the 'Samnites Palæopolitanei,' this seems too bold a stroke of historical scepticism" (_Italy and Her Invaders_, vol. iv. p. 53).
_Page 108 et seq._ See Camillo Porzio, _La Congiura de' Baroni_.
_Page 121._ Upon the churches of Naples there are two works which surpass all others--namely, _Documenti per la storia, le arti e le industrie_, by Prince Gaetano Filangieri, a monument of vast learning; and _Denkmaeler der Kunst des Mittelalters in Unter Italien_, by H. W. Schulz, whose work forms the basis of almost every guide-book published on southern Italy.
_Page 123._ This tale of the graceless Duke of Calabria is in Giannone, _Storia di Napoli_, lib. xxii. _ad init._
_Page 126._ Those who desire more information on the everyday life of Naples will do well to seek it in Kellner's work, _Alltägliches aus Neapel_, the tenth volume of the well-known series, "Kennst du das Land," which is sold everywhere in Italy.
_Page 137._ The account of this storm is in book v. epist. 5, of Petrarch's letters. The storm may, or may not, be the one which destroyed Amalfi. I know of no evidence pointing either way, save the improbability that two tempests should have wrought such devastation.
_Page 140._ Fucini's work is called _Napoli a Occhio Nudo_.
_Page 141._ Any history of Naples will give the facts of the struggle between Frederick the Second and Innocent. See especially von Räumer or Giannone.
_Page 143._ La Colonna della Vicaria. Signor Amalfi quotes from Voltero, _Dizionario filosofico_, _s.v._ "Banqueroute," the following passage:--"Le négociant _fallito_ pouvait dans certaines villes d'Italie garder tous ses biens et frustrer ses créanciers, pourvu qu'il s'assit le derrière nu sur une pierre en présence de tous les marchands. C'était une dérivation douce de l'ancien proverbe romain, _Solvere aut in aere, aut in cute_, payer de son argent ou de sa peau" (_Tradizioni ed usi_, p. 123).
_Page 146._ The facts about the descent of the Turks upon Otranto in 1480 will be found stated briefly in all the histories. But they are sufficiently curious to make it worth while to consult the admirable and detailed report made to Ludovic Sforza, Il Moro, by the commissary who served him in his capacity as Duke of Bari. As ruler of the chief Apulian coast town, Il Moro was of course painfully anxious for exact information about the proceedings of the Turks. The report will be found in volume vi. of the _Archivio Storico_, published by the "Società di Storia Patria," of Naples.
_Page 150 et seq._ The story of Conradin's expedition and death is told best in von Räumer, _Geschichte der Hohenstaufen_. It will be found also in Amari, _La Guerra del Vespro_. The two historians report the circumstances of Conradin's death with some differences of detail, having relied on different chronicles. The variations are not essential.
_Page 158._ Details concerning the examination of Conradin's tomb will be found in Filangieri, _op. cit._
_Page 161._ For the story of Mas'aniello's revolt I have followed Sign. Gabriele Tontoli, _Il Masaniello, overo Discorsi Narrativi, La Sollevatione di Napoli_, printed at Naples in 1648. I selected this work (1) because it is rare; (2) because it is full of detail; (3) because it is the narrative of an eye-witness.
_Page 178._ The literature of Vesuvius is immense. As general references, I can only indicate again the works named in the note on page 21.
_Page 182._ Braccini's narrative was published at Naples in 1632 under the title _Dell'Incendio fattosi nel Vesuvio_.
_Page 190._ Palmieri's account has been translated. _The Eruption of Vesuvius in 1872_ (London, 1873).
_Page 196._ Herculaneum. Once more it is well to refer to Beloch, _Campanien_.
_Page 201 et seq._ The work of Signori Comparetti and de Petra was published at Turin in 1883, under the title _La Villa Ercolanense dei Pisoni_. It is one of those monuments of patient, well-directed learning and research which fill one with high hopes for the future of Italian scholarship. I presume the British Museum acquired its copy shortly after publication. I may add that I cut its pages in July, 1900--a fact that says worlds about British scholarship.
_Page 209._ The translation of Mau's _Pompeii, its Life and Art_, was published at New York in 1899.
_Page 217._ The only works worth mentioning about the pictures at Pompeii are those of Helbig, _Untersuchungen über die Campanische Wandmalerei_ (Leipzig, 1873), and his earlier _Wandgemälde_ (Leipzig, 1868). A summary of Helbig's conclusions will be found in _Promenades Archéologiques_, by Gaston Boissier (Paris, 1895).
_Page 223._ On Stabiæ a work comparable only to that cited above on Piso's villa has been written by Signor Michele Ruggiero, _Degli Scavi di Stabia_ (Naples, 1881).
In connection with the Roman country life, I might have mentioned the recent excavations at Bosco-reale, where the villas were doubtless similar to those upon Varano. The first discoveries on that spot are set down by the superstitious peasants to the credit of a priest, who is said to have indicated a place where treasure would be found by digging. The real fact is that about the year 1868 a small proprietor named Pulzella discovered, while hoeing his field, the entrance to a buried chamber. He enlarged the aperture, and found a second room; but could not penetrate further without entering a neighbouring property, which belonged to Signor de Prisco. Of this discovery he said nothing for twenty years. In 1888 the ground passed into the possession of the de Prisco family, who, learning what had occurred, continued the excavation, found in 1894 all the apartments of a bath, and in one of them a great treasure of money and silver plate of exquisite workmanship, which was bought by Baron Rothschild and presented to the Louvre. A full account of the villa then unearthed is given by August Mau.
Six years passed, and recently the excavations have been resumed. A larger villa has been unearthed, near the former one. No treasure was found in it, nor any portable articles. Possibly the owners had been able to return and recover their property, or more probably they had fled on earlier warning. But the interest of this new house lies in its frescoes, which are of great beauty, both architectural and figure pieces. There can be no doubt that we are on the verge of a great expansion of our knowledge of Roman life; and it is to be hoped that the works at Bosco-reale will be vigorously pushed and carefully supervised.
An interesting account of the discoveries, with illustrations, will be found in the Italian magazine _Emporium_ for December, 1900.
_Page 229._ Trade routes in the Sorrento peninsula. I cannot discover that anyone has written with scholarship on this most interesting subject. There is none more important to a clear comprehension of history, nor any more generally neglected.
_Page 230._ Santa Maria Maggiore. Gsell-Fels gives a good account of this remarkable church, based on that of Schulz.
_Page 231._ Catacombs at Castellammare. I regret that the passage in Schulz, _Denkmaeler der Kunst des Mittelalters in Unter Italien_, vol. ii. p. 224, referring to these catacombs, did not come under my notice in time to admit of my making a personal examination of them. They appear to be so completely forgotten that several well-informed persons to whom I applied denied their existence. They do exist, however, upon the road to La Cava. I cannot indicate the spot exactly, nor does Schulz do so. I translate from him as follows:--"To the largest grotto one goes by a broad passage hewn in the rock, in whose sides are squared niches, apparently designed for flasks, lamps, inscriptions or children's coffins. The uncertain line between ancient and modern alterations makes decision difficult. Then one goes through a sort of rock gateway of more modern construction.... In the background of the grotto, which has five niches on either of its longer sides, there are more graves under a vault. The greater number of the pictures are on the left as one enters. In the first recess stands a woman's figure in the Norman-Greek style of painting, badly damaged. Near her is a smaller figure of a saint holding a book. Higher up, in a disc set with white pearls, hovers the figure of Christ with a nimbus; and by it are other circles, with busts of angels. Over the upper one is written 'RAFA' (Raphael), above another 'MICAH, SCS VRVS' (?). The painting is in the ancient style with black, white, and red--that peculiar dark brown-red of early Christian pictures, as in the lower church at Assisi, the catacombs of Syracuse and Naples, etc.... The inscriptions, mostly white on a green ground, are in characters of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, or yet later times," etc., etc.
I cannot too emphatically express my sense of the great value of Schulz' work. Much is changed since 1860, when he wrote; yet still his survey must be the starting-point for every other writer.
_Page 236._ La Madonna di Pozzano. I take this legend from _Storia dell'Immagine di S. Maria di Pozzano_, written by Padre Serafino de Ruggieri. It was published at Valle di Pompeii in 1893.
_Page 237._ The facts about the Iconoclasts will be found in any Church history; _e.g._ Milman, _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, bk. iv. chap. 7.
_Page 238._ My chief authority for the stories of madonnas in this chapter and the next is Signor Gaetano Amalfi, whose invaluable work, _Tradizioni ed Usi nella Penisola Sorrentina_, forms volume viii. of the "Curiosità Popolari Tradizioniali," published by Signor Pitrè at Palermo. Those who are acquainted with the bookshops in Naples will not be surprised to hear that I searched them vainly for a copy of this work, great as its interest should be for all visitors to the city. The book is largely written in the local dialects, and would be of little use to those who cannot read them.
_Page 241._ The old road from Castellammare towards Sorrento. Breislak, who wrote so recently as in 1800, says, "Le chemin est le plus mauvais possible, et ne peut se faire avec sureté qu'à pied."
_Page 245._ Quaresima. I refer once more to Signor Amalfi, _op. cit._
_Page 255._ These various scraps of folklore are from the same work, as are also the legends in this chapter.
_Page 260._ For the tufa of Sorrento, see Breislak, _Voyages physiques_.
_Page 270._ On the archæology of Sorrento the best work known to me is that of Beloch, _Campanien_.
_Page 273._ Not much has been written well on Capri. _Storia dell'Isola di Capri_, by Mons. A. Canale, is sold throughout the town, but has little value. _Die Insel Capri_, by Ferdinand Gregorovius, is a book of great beauty and merit; the reputation of Gregorovius stands in no need of praise. Kopisch' narrative, _Die Entdeckung der blauen Grotte_, is volume 2,907 of Reclam's "Universal Bibliothek."
_Page 301._ It is much to be desired that some German or Italian scholar--I fear none other would have the necessary patience--might undertake to elucidate the history of that collection of communes which passed by the name of Amalfi. Two histories exist--a modern one by Camera, an ancient one by Pansa. Both comprise interesting facts, but neither attempts to solve the puzzles which beset the traveller on every side. Nor will it be of any use for other writers to attempt solutions without long study; yet for one who might be willing to bestow the labour, there will certainly be reserved a rich reward of fame. Probably there is scarce any spot where thorough investigation might teach us so much of the tangled yet splendid history of Italy in the Middle Ages.
_Page 305._ The Knights Hospitallers of St. John were settled at Cyprus for a time after their expulsion from Acre; but were not long contented to remain vassals of the king of that island, and accordingly obtained the Pope's permission to turn their arms against the Greek Empire, from which they took Rhodes on 15th August, 1310. Finlay, _History of Greece_, vol. iii. p. 410.
_Page 306._ No one need concern himself with the works of Volpicella. They belong to the bad period of archæology, when sentiment overcame both reason and sense. Schulz remains the safe and trusty guide; it being remembered always that changes have occurred since he wrote.
_Page 311._ The bronze doors at Amalfi and Ravello. Schulz remains the chief authority on this very interesting subject; but there is a good article on the subject in Lenormant, _À travers l'Apulie et la Lucanie_, under the heading "Monte Sant'Angelo."
_Page 312._ Monte Gargano, one of the most picturesque and interesting spots in Italy. There was a shrine for pagan pilgrims on this mountain in Strabo's time. He describes the crowd who came to consult the demi-god in his cavern, and lay sleeping in the open air around the cave, resting on skins of the black sheep they had slaughtered. In due course the heathen demi-god was replaced by a miraculous apparition of the archangel Michael, and Christian pilgrims came in crowds. It was the common process. The priests recognised a tradition of pilgrimage which they could not check, and legalised it by a Christian legend. See Lenormant, _À travers l'Apulie et la Lucanie_ (Paris, 1883).
_Page 330._ Vietri is of great age. Strabo, quoted by Camera, indicates it under the name Marcinna as the only city between the rocks of the Sirens and Pæstum. Possibly he looked on Salerno and Vietri as one.
_Page 331._ The facts about pilgrims are from Ducange, _s.v._ "Peregrinatio," and Muratori, Dissertation 37.
_Page 338._ The best account of Pæstum known to me is in Lenormant, _op. cit._
INDEX
A
Agnano, Lake, 26, 78
Agrippina, Empress, her murder, 45 _et seq._
Alcala, Duke of, 77
Alfonso of Aragon, first king of that name, 104, 160; second king of that name, 70, 72, 107 _et seq._, 130, 146
Amalfi, 58; its trade, 229, 295, 297, 299 _et seq._
Anacapri, 282, 284, 288, 289, 298
Angelo, Monte Sant', 6, 181, 232, 256, 285, 297
Anicetus, 46, 47
Anjou, Charles, King. See "Charles"
Anjou, House of, 8, 70, 91, 103
Anna, Palazzo di Donna, 54, 65
Aragon, House of, 8, 16, 86, 91, 97, 108, 122, 130
Arco Naturale, 296, 297
Arcos, Duke of, 162 _et seq._
Augustus, Emperor, 57, 292
Avernus, Lake of, 37, 38, 43
B
Baiæ, 23, 40, 43, 44, 217
Barbaro, Monte, its legend, 37
Barbarossa, Corsair, 6, 145, 274, 287, 288, 308
Bauli, 46
Beloch quoted, 346 (App.), 353 (App.)
Bembo, Pietro, epitaph on Sannazzaro, 75
Bisignano, Prince of, 110, 111; Princess of, her escape, 110
Blue Grotto, 275 _et seq._
Boccaccio, 5, 7, 112, 123, 124, 134, 233, 235, 317
Bolgaro, Restituta, 7
Bosco Reale, 179, 187, 350 (App.)
Braccini, Abate, 182, 184 _et seq._, 350 (App.)
Brantôme quoted, 8, 160
Breislak quoted, 346 (App.), 353 (App.)
C
Calabria, Duke of, 123, 348 (App.); Alfonso, Duke of. See "Alfonso of Aragon."
Camorra, The, 119, 145
Campagna Felice, 12, 18, 181, 286
Campana, Monte, 37
Campanella, Punta di, 6, 77, 264
Cane, Grotta del, 26-8, 346 (App.)
Capaccio quoted, 24, 61, 346 (App.)
Cappuccini Convent, Hotel, 307 _et seq._
Capri, 5, 18, 68, 273 _et seq._
Capuana, Porta, 57, 145, 146, 220
Capuano, Cardinal, 307
Capuano, Castel, 66, 101, 143, 145
Caraccioli, Francesco, 76
Carmine, Church of, 13, 112, 116, 156, 158, 160, 170 _et seq._
Carmine, Madonna del, 158
Casamicciola, 5, 38, 183
Castellammare, 6, 81, 126, 179, 220, 226 _et seq._; its catacombs, 231, 295, 352 (App.)
Castles. See "Elmo," "Nuovo," "Uovo," etc.
Charles of Anjou, King, 89, 90, 94, 97, 112, 124, 152
Chiaia, Riviera di, 10, 68, 69, 78
Churches: Carmine, see above; Cathedral, 140 _et seq._; Gesù Nuovo, 108, 121; Santa Caterina a Formello, 147; Santa Chiara, 123-5, 135; San Domenico Maggiore, 128, 129; San Lionardo, 10, 72-4, 79, 105, 110, 111, 168; San Lorenzo, 135, 136, 138, 162
Cigliano, Monte, 37
Colonna, Vittoria, 6, 131, 345 (App.)
Conca, Ravine of, its legend, 257 _et seq._
Conca, Capo di, 304, 329
Conradin, 89, 90, 126, 150-8, 161, 349 (App.)
Coppola, Monte, 232, 249; family of, 109
Cumæ, 41, 45, 97, 215, 346 (App.)
D
Damecuta, Tower of, 275, 276, 280, 282
Decuman ways in Naples, 117, 118
Deserto, The, 262 _et seq._
Dragut, Corsair, 6, 77, 274, 287, 345 (App.)
E
Elmo, St., Castle, 10, 16, 17, 62, 97
Epomeo, Monte di, 5, 59, 183, 250
F
Faito, Monte, 6, 249, 251
Ferdinand First of Aragon, King, 71, 72, 105, 107-11; the Second, 98
Fiammetta (Princess Marie of Anjou), 5, 134, 135, 235
Filamarino, Cardinal Ascanio, 167 _et seq._
Fiorelli, director of excavations at Pompeii, 212
Folklore. See "Galli," "Giovanna," "Madonnas," "Nicolo Pesce," "Rufolo," "Sorrento," "Vico," "Virgil," etc.
Fra Diavolo, bandit, 242 _et seq._
Frangipani betrays Conradin, 155
Frederick the Second, Emperor, 88, 89; his struggle with the Papacy, 141, 142, 348 (App.)
Frederick of Baden, comrade of Conradin, 154, 156, 157
Fucini, Renato, quoted, 140, 349 (App.)
G
Galli, I, Legend of, 333
Gargano, Monte, 88, 312, 354 (App.)
Garibaldi, 127
Gennaro, San, 13, 57; his miracle, 140, 185, 188
Gioja, Flavio, 302
Giotto, 5, his residence in Naples, 124, 125
Giovanna, Queen, Traditions of, 65-7, 90, 148, 313, 347 (App.)
Gregorovius, F., 353 (App.)
Grillo, Monte, 37
Guicciardini quoted, 70, 98, 100
H
Helena, Queen, wife of Manfred, 90, 94, 95
Herculaneum, 178, 183, 185; how discovered, 196; amphitheatre, 197; how destroyed, 199; how searched, 200; Piso's villa, 201 _et seq._; the library, 204; new excavations, 207
Hodgkin, T., quoted, 221, 348 (App.)
I
Iconoclasts, The, 237
Ischia, 1, 5, 6, 8, 50, 53, 59, 81, 99, 176, 183, 286
K
Kopisch, August, discoverer of Blue Grotto, 275 _et seq._
L
La Cava, Valley of, 230; Abbey, 330
Lakes: Agnano, 26, 78; Avernus, 37, 38, 43; Lucrine, 45, 47
Leopardi, Giacomo, 25
Lionardo d'Oria, 73
Lionardo, San, 10, 72-4, 79, 105, 110, 111, 348 (App.)
Loria, Roger di, Admiral, 7, 286
Lucia, Santa, 54, 93, 101-3
Lucrine, Lake, 45, 47
Luigi, San, Church of, 166
M
Machiavelli quoted, 108, 109
Maddaloni, Duke of, 170
Maddaloni Palace, 117
Madonnas, Legends of: della Carmine (La Bruna), 159, 163; di Casarlano, 238; delle Galline, 239; di Meta, 254; di Positano, 303; di Pozzano, 236; di Sorrento, carried in procession, 270; di Villanto, 253; authority, 353 (App.)
Majori, 229, 301, 306, 327, 328
Mammone, bandit, 244
Manfred, King, 89, 94, 95, 104, 124, 150
Marcellus, 57
Martino, San, 16, 116
Mas'aniello, 115, 116, 120, 164 _et seq._, 350 (App.)
Mercato of Naples, 122, 149, 157, 161, 163 _et seq._, 220
Mergellina, 76, 79
Minori, 229, 301, 306, 328
Mirichicchiu, Apparition of, 266
Misenum, 29, 40, 44, 45, 48, 49, 185, 199, 286
Monforte, Count, 233
Munaciello, 'O, Apparition of, 252
N
Nero, Emperor, 45, 46
Nisida, Island of, 50, 52, 53, 79
Nocera, 95; dominates trade route, 229, 230
Nuovo, Castel, 11, 16, 17, 20, 74; its age, 97, 98; described, 104; vault of, 106; cruelties wrought there, 108, etc.
Nuovo, Monte, 40
O
Otranto, Martyrs of, 146-8, 349 (App).
P
Paderni, C., report on Herculaneum, 201 _et seq._
Padulano, The, 126
Pæstum, 215, 251, 299, 302, 337 _et seq._
Pagano, host at Capri, 275 _et seq._
Palæopolis, 97, 348 (App.)
Palermo, 7
Palmieri, of Vesuvius Observatory, 190, 194
Pantaleoni, Family of, 311
Parthenope, 2, 4
Pesce, Nicolo, Legends of, 81, 348 (App.)
Petrarch visits Phlegræan Fields, 37, 346 (App.); 56, 124; at San Lorenzo, 134, 205
Petronius quoted, 218
Philodemus, his library at Herculaneum, 205 _et seq._
Phlegræan Fields, 9, 23, 37; authorities on, 346 (App.)
Piedigrotta, 25
Piso, his villa at Herculaneum, 201 _et seq._, 350 (App.)
Pizzofalcone, 10, 92, 93, 97, 99, 101
Pliny quoted, 44, 199, 200, 218
Pompeii, 13, 44; its plan, 133, 178, 179, 183, 197, 199; general aspect, 210; houses, 213-7; pictures, 217-20; authorities, 350 (App.)
Portici, 195
Poseidon, Temple of, 342
Posilipo, 9, 19; how formed, 22; its caverns, 24, 53, 60; described, 49 _et seq._, 199
Pozzano, Convent and Madonna of, 236-8, 352 (App.)
Pozzuoli, 3, 24, 29; its trade and fall, 32, 33; Serapeon, 34; Greek origin, 41, 62
Prajano, 301, 303
Procida, Gianni, 7, 8; Giovanni, 9, 345 (App.)
Q
Quaresima, Figure of, 245
R
Ravello, 229, 301, 312 _et seq._
Resina, 186, 194, 197, 209
Robert, King, 122, 123, 126, 135, 137
Rufolo, Landolfo, Tale of, 314
Rufolo, Palazzo, 322
Ruggiero, work on Stabiæ, 223, 350 (App.)
S
Salerno, City, 58, 229, 251, 299, 300, 332 _et seq._
Salerno, Prince of, his escape, 109, 121, 122
Salto di Tiberio, 273, 292, 293
Sannazzaro, 75, 76, 79
San Severino, family of, 108, 121
Sarno, River, 221
Scala, 319
Scarpi, bandit, 242 _et seq._
Schulz, H. W., quoted, 231, 348, 352
Sejanus, Grotto of, 50
Serapis, Temple of, 34, 35
Severo, San, Chapel of, 132
Sicilian Vespers, 8, 9, 90, 95
Sicily, 7, 8; how it floats on the sea, 83
Sirens, The, 4, 269, 299
Solaro, Monte, 274, 284, 285, 289, 298
Solfatara, The, 29, 32, 36
Somma, Monte, 37, 178 _et seq._, 286
Sorrento, 5, 22, 229, 251 _et seq._; its folklore, 266, 267; Good Friday procession, 270
Stabiæ, 223 _et seq._, 230, 350 (App.)
St. John, Knights of, 305, 354 (App.)
Strabo quoted, 181, 355 (App.)
Struscio, Lu, 113
Styx, 29
T
Tiberius, Emperor, 279, 283, 291; Villa of, 290
Toledo (Via Roma), 18, 113, 115, 116, 165
Tontoli, don Gabriele, quoted, 167 _et seq._
Torre dell'Annunziata, 21, 184, 187, 209
Torre del Greco, 21, 183-5, 187, 188, 209
Torretta, la, 77, 79
Tribunali, Strada di, 101, 117, 131, 133, 149, 168, 209
Tuoni, Grotta dei, legend of, 53
U
Uberti, Messer Neri degli, Tale of, 233 _et seq._
Ulysses, 4
Uovo, Castel dell', 10, 17, 61, 62, 64, 69; its caverns, 82; its name, 96; besieged, 99, 125, 166
V
Vasto, Marchesa del, 78
Vesuvius, 12, 18, 21, 22, 30, 37; held in check by Virgil, 56; by San Gennaro, 13, 57, 68, 185, 188; how formed, 178-81; Eruptions of, 79 A.D., 44; 1631, 182 _et seq._; 1707, 57; 1767, 189; 1861, 189; 1872, 190 _et seq._; authorities on, 346 (App.)
Via Roma (see Toledo)
Vicaria, La, 143, 349 (App.)
Vico Equense, 81, 228, 253 _et seq._
Vietri, 330, 355 (App.)
Virgil, 5, 9; founder of Castel dell'Uovo, 10; his enchantments, 56-9; legend of his tomb, 62, 347 (App.)
Virgilio, Scoglio di, 55
Vittoria, Piazza di, 85
Volpicella quoted, 306, 354 (App.)
PLYMOUTH WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. PRINTERS
End of Project Gutenberg's Naples Past and Present, by Arthur H. Norway