Chapter V: Part 5

_November 1st._ We set out this morning from Planina, and drove over the road we had formerly passed to Wippach. The roads as far as this town were very hard and slippery, the snow which had fallen having frozen during the night, but as soon as we passed the mountains between Adelsberg and Wippach the scene was changed; we had left the winter and wintry country behind us, and found ourselves in a valley, where the trees were still adorned with the fine tints of autumn, and where the temperature was delightful. Leaving Wippach, we entered the province of Friuli, and drove on along a fine high road to Gorizia or Görz, where we did not arrive till late in the evening. The country is fine; it appears to be well cultivated, and the vines hang in festoons from tree to tree. At Gorizia, Italian is the only language spoken, and with the language the people seemed also to have changed, for instead of the slow, awkward, and often insolent German servants, we had here quick and intelligent attendants.

_2nd._ Leaving Gorizia, in which town there is very little interesting, at one o'clock, we crossed the Isonzo, a beautifully clear and broad river. The roads were excellent, and before us and on our right we had the magnificent chain of the Julian Alps, still free from snow. Palmanova, where we spent the night, is a strong fortress, but a miserable little town with a corresponding inn.

_3rd._ The road from Palmanova to Codroipo lies through a flat country, chiefly vineyards, and is lined on each side with mulberry trees. Between Codroipo and Pordenone, we passed over a magnificent wooden bridge across the Tagliamento, the bed of which is here nearly a mile in breadth, and shows what a broad and wild river it must be when swollen by the melting of the snows. Upon asking a man on the road the distance to the next town, he only answered us by holding up his five fingers, as much as to say five miles; a quick mode of expression which a German peasant would never have arrived at. The dress of the peasants was as much changed as the climate; instead of the black leather breeches, huge boots, and sheepskin jacket of the Krainish boor, we here saw striped cotton trowsers, a white cloth or flannel jacket, and shoes and stockings. We to-day, for the first time, saw many donkeys on the road, and little one-horse carriages, with one person sitting in them and the driver standing behind. Pordenone is a small town, with a fine view of the Friuli Alps in the distance.

_4th._ We quitted Pordenone and the Frioul, and dined at Cornegliano, a small old town in the province of Venice, and on quitting it we caught a glimpse of the Alps in the distance, and after a long drive through flat and low lands, arrived in the evening at Treviso. An ancient Roman gateway of beautiful architecture forms the entrance to this town, the streets of which however are narrow and dirty. The Albergo Reale is a very good inn.

_5th._ We quitted Treviso early this morning for Padua, with the Ugonian or Paduan hills in front of us. About two miles out of the town, looking across the marshes, we saw Venice with all her towers rising, as it were, out of them. We were only about five miles from this, the second most interesting city of Italy, nor could I help expressing a wish to see it. Sir Humphry, however, said that he was determined never again to enter it, for he had, upon a former journey, been detained there _upwards of an hour_ about his passport. A little beyond Mestre, a dirty and ruinous town, where passengers generally embark for Venice, we came to the Brenta, and drove along its banks to Dolo, a small village, where we dined. The road is lined with fine, but mostly ruinous villas, in the light Italian style of architecture, and between Dolo and Padua we passed by a magnificent palace belonging to the Viceroy of Milan. We did not arrive at Padua till it was nearly dark, and entered the town by an old Roman gateway, similar to that at Treviso. The streets through which we passed were narrow and dirty, but furnished on both sides with arcades for foot passengers.

_6th._ We left Padua at eight o'clock this morning, passing through the Piazza San Antonio, a fine open square ornamented with statues, and at one end of which is the cathedral church of St. Antonio, said to be one of the churches containing the greatest number of votive altars in Italy.

The country between Padua and Monselice, an insignificant little town where we stopped to bait, is pretty. Crossing the Adige by a flying bridge, we drove on to Rovigo; a town with about eight thousand inhabitants, but with apparently nothing remarkable in it.

_7th._ After leaving Rovigo, we came in a few hours to the Po at Polsella, a fine deep river, but very turbid and rapid. A poste further we crossed it by a flying bridge, and quitting the Austrian territories, we entered the Papal states. The _Douane_ is situated upon the bank of the river, and although the _lascia-passare_, for which Sir Humphry had written to Rome from Laibach, was not arrived, he had no difficulty in passing unexamined, a little money being, it seems, here as good as the best pass. We then drove on to Ferrara, where we lodged at the _Tre Mori_, a very good inn, though badly situated in a very narrow back street.

In the afternoon I walked through the old, deserted, and often grass-grown streets of the town. In the Piazza Ariostea stands a fine old column, and the church in the great square is a fine building externally, the front consisting of numerous rows of arches one above the other. This and the ancient castle or palace of the house of Esté, a large moated brick building, with numerous square towers, in one of which the dungeon of Tasso is still shown, are all that is worth seeing here.

_8th._ We quitted Ferrara in very bad weather, it having snowed all night, and snow and sleet still continued to fall during the day. We stopped to bait at a lone house, which proved to be a very large and good inn, and then proceeded after dinner to Bologna, which we entered in company with three other English carriages. This is a very fine city, with good streets, on each side of which are lofty arcades, so that even in the worst weather one can walk through the greater part of the town without getting wet. In the evening I finished reading the "Castle of Otranto" to Sir Humphry, for the second time.

_9th._ Sir Humphry dictated a letter this morning to Professor Morichini at Rome, and I afterwards walked about the town whilst he paid a visit to Madame M----, the wife of a sculptor to whom he had been introduced when he was formerly in Italy. The streets appear well built and modern, though very dirty, and the houses are for the most part fine and lofty; but there are very few grand single buildings or churches; many of the latter are only to be distinguished from private houses under the arcades, by a coloured drapery hung over the door. The Neptune which surmounts the fountain in the square of the cathedral, a work by Jean de Bologna, certainly has its merits as a statue, but the poor water-god enjoys so little of his element, that he can scarcely provide for the wants of his immediate neighbours. After wandering quite alone through the town, the whole morning and a part of the afternoon, I returned to the hotel St. Marco. Madame M---- having invited Sir Humphry to take a seat in her box at the theatre in the evening, I went to see the play and ballet, and was very much pleased with each. The house is spacious and grand, but dark; the spectacle showy, and the singing and ballet very good.

_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.

_8th._ To-day we were near being burnt out of our lodging. On awaking in the morning, I found my room and the drawing-room filled with smoke, and perceived a strong smell of burning wood. The servant said that all the windows had been opened for upwards of an hour, and yet he could not get rid of the smoke. We could, however, discover nothing, till the lodgers from below sent up to say that fire was falling through their ceiling, and upon going into their room I found the ceiling on fire, and that a large hole was already burnt through the beams which lay immediately under Sir Humphry's fire-place. I instantly sent for the fire-men, who did their business very expertly, taking up the floor of Sir Humphry's drawing-room, which they found burning for a considerable space round the hearth, upon which so large a fire had been kept up the day before, that the heat had penetrated through the stone, and thus set fire to the beams. In an hour it was quite extinguished, and all danger over. To avoid the bustle occasioned by the reparation required, Sir Humphry determined to visit the Lago di Solfatara, sometimes called the lake of the swimming islets, and he begged me to accompany him: we therefore set out immediately, and left Rome by the Porta St. Lorenzo, and following the ancient Via Tibertina, we crossed, about four miles from Rome, the Aniene, or, as it is more generally called, the Teverone, a small river, which forms the celebrated cascades at Tivoli. On many parts of the road the remains of the ancient Roman pavement are very distinct, formed of large round or octangular flat stones. About thirteen miles from Rome we reached the little bridge across the stream which runs from the lake of Solfatara. Leaving the carriage here, Sir Humphry mounted his pony, and, turning off to the left across the fields, we soon reached the Lago. It is a small bason of water, of an oval form, and measures in its greatest diameter not more than two hundred yards, but its depth is said to be about two hundred feet. The colour of the water is bluish white, and from the quantity of lime which it holds in solution is by no means clear. The surface appears to be in a state of considerable ebullition, which is caused by the quantity of air that escapes through it, and on flinging in a stone the water bubbles up violently at the spot where it falls. The temperature, however, is far below that of boiling water, for on trying it to the depth of six feet in different places, we found it vary between 85° and 87° Fahrenheit. It continually emits a strong smell of sulphurated hydrogen, which is perceptible upon the high road sometime before one arrives at the Lago. The floating islands, which have contributed to render this lake celebrated, are no fable, and are easily explained. Around it and upon it are numerous species of _confervæ_ and many small water plants, which, becoming encrusted with the carbonate of lime deposited by the water, form with leaves and grasses compact little masses, which, supported by air bubbles that have lodged beneath, or from their own lightness, do not sink, and becoming detached by accident from the shore, swim about and become larger by the junction of these little masses with each other. These little islands are said to have been seen of a diameter of some feet, but the largest which we saw did not exceed two or three inches. A canal has been cut from the lake to the Teverone, which carries off the superfluous water that formerly inundated the surrounding plain. Near the large lake are two others of smaller size, the waters of which are, however, exactly the same. Sticks, leaves, or insects, or any thing which falls into these waters, become thickly encrusted with a strong and hard covering of marble or travertine. It is probable that these three lakes were formerly only one, and may have covered a considerable part of the plain around, which is chiefly formed of travertine that has been deposited by water. Of this stone also the greater part of the edifices in Rome, ancient as well as modern, are built. Close to the lake are still to be seen the ruins of some ancient Roman baths, and it is said that Augustus frequently made use of the waters of the Solfatara.

Upon our return to Rome I heard at the trattoria or restaurateur's, where I generally dine, an indistinct rumour of the death of the Pope, which the Italians express by saying, _Il Santo Padre é andato_.

_10th._ This morning the death of the Holy Father was publicly announced by the tolling of the bells, the closing of the theatres and all public offices. His decease appears to cause little sensation among the Romans, by whom he seems to have been exceedingly disliked; and happening at this moment just before the commencement of the carnival, all the festivities and gaieties of which are thus put an end to, it does not serve to render his memory more popular.

_11th-14th._ Four cardinals have been sitting in counsel for the last two or three days, deliberating whether or not any public festivities shall be allowed, and have now determined that no public amusement shall take place during the time that the papal throne shall remain vacant. The Romans at this news are quite in despair; and no wonder, for I am told that the sum daily spent in this city during the last week of the carnival exceeds 80,000 Roman crowns. Numberless little pasquinades and jeux d'esprit on the late Pope circulate among the people, the freedom of many of which not a little surprises me. The two following are among many others which I saw handed about in writing, though I question if any appeared in print.

Todini was the Pope's _barber-surgeon_, to whose ignorance and bad treatment his Holiness' death is attributed.

V'é chi a Todini oppone
La morte di Leone;
Roma però sostiene
Ch 'egli à operato bene.

And again--

Alle dieci di Febraro,
E successo un caso raro,
A un Leon creduto forte
Diede un asino la morte.

_16th._ To-day I made an excursion to Tivoli, with Hofrath F---- of Darmstadt, whom I had met a day or two before by mere chance, in the street, and who kindly greeted me as an old friend. We followed the same road which I had passed over with Sir Humphry when we visited the Solfatara; and about two miles beyond the little bridge over the canal, we again crossed the Teverone, by the Ponte Lucano, near which is the sepulchre of the Plautian family, built of travertine, in the shape of a round tower, and on the front of it are still the remains of some columns and Latin inscriptions. Three or four miles beyond this monument lies Tivoli, where we arrived about ten o'clock in the morning, having quitted Rome at an early hour, and we occupied the whole morning in viewing the ruins and cascades. Our first visit was to the Temple of Vesta, generally called the Temple of the Sybil, a beautiful and elegant ruin, situated immediately above the Falls of the Aniene. It is of a circular form, and appears to have been surrounded by eighteen columns, ten of which are still remaining. These columns are of travertine, and of the Corinthian order. Close to this temple stands another small one, which is said to have been dedicated to the Tiburtine Sybil, of a square form, with four Ionic columns in front. Descending near this temple, a very good path led us down to the Grotto of Neptune, into which the waters of the Aniene precipitate themselves with impetuosity, forming on two sides beautiful cascades, which fall into the same pool, and run from it through a very narrow and highly picturesque valley, round the hill upon which Tivoli is situated. Leaving the grotto and town, we walked along the side of the mountains which look towards the _campagna_ and Rome; and during our walk, our guide showed us the remains and situations of some of the most celebrated villas; the country-house of the poet Catullus, and that of Horace and Quintillius Varo. Before we ascended to the villa of Mæcenas, we passed by the _Cascatelle_, beautiful and highly picturesque falls, which seem to rise out of the town of Tivoli, and leap down the hill into the valley in many a varied bound. The villa of Mæcenas is now used as an iron manufactory; many of the rooms and corridors are still distinct, and the roof is still perfect. The view from hence towards Rome is magnificent, embracing the whole _campagna_, with the different towns and villages in it, and is bounded by the cupola of St. Peter's. The Villa d'Este is of modern architecture, and must formerly have been very splendid; but it is now falling fast into decay, and its fine gardens are no longer attended to; the fountains in them are dry, and the numberless statues that adorn them have become brown and dirty.

After dining at Tivoli we returned to Rome, but stopped for two hours at the Villa Adriana, to view the astonishing ruins of this wonderful spot, where the Emperor Hadrian attempted to unite all the grand and beautiful objects which he had beheld in Greece and Egypt. He here built a Lycæum, an Academy, a Pritaneum, like those he had seen at Athens; he formed the Vale of Tempe, in imitation of the celebrated Thessalian Valley; and not content with earthly subjects, he imagined Tartarus and the Elysian Fields, as described in the ancient mythology. The ruins of this stupendous villa cover a surface of seven miles in circumference, in which are found the remains of circuses, temples, theatres, libraries, baths, palaces, &c. &c., which still present an astonishing proof of the almost inconceivable grandeur and magnificence of the ancient lords of the Roman Empire. The mind that planned and executed this mighty work, and conceived the idea of bringing together into one spot of ground the noblest edifices scattered over the surface of the gigantic empire which he governed, could have been of no common mould, nor can any one dwell upon it as such, whilst wandering amid these now mouldering ruins. Leaving the villa, we proceeded to the Solfatara, Hofrath F---- not having yet seen it, and from thence returned to Rome, where I arrived just in time to read to Sir Humphry, after having spent a day of no common pleasure, which had not been a little heightened by the kind and friendly interest shown me by the Hofrath.

_20th-28th._ These days have been to me days of extreme anxiety, and often of fearful anticipation. On the 20th Sir Humphry was attacked with a renewed stroke of palsy, which had nearly proved fatal to him. In the morning he had, after breakfast, been dictating to me his dialogues, which he had nearly finished, and he appeared even to be better, and more gay than I had seen him for some time. I left him at eleven o'clock, and went to my adjoining room to continue the fair copy, but had scarcely seated myself, when I heard him hastily call me, and upon entering the room I found him fallen upon the sofa, and deprived apparently of the use of his limbs. He evidently thought himself dying, but his voice was quite audible, and he told me, that on attempting to rise from the sofa, he felt that he had no power over his limbs, more especially those of his right side, and that he felt sick at his stomach. With the assistance of the servants I got him into bed as quickly as possible, and I sent immediately for Dr. Jenks, who came directly, bringing with him Dr. Morichini. They each did all that was possible to relieve Sir Humphry's apprehensions, and assured me the danger was not so immediate as he imagined. After they left, I wrote both to Doctor and Lady Davy, and then read to Sir Humphry during the remainder of the day, which seemed to quiet and calm him. He slept very little in the night, and continued much in the same state through the next day, though he was able during it to dictate some codicils to his will, and to finish the little that remained of the Dialogues. On the 22nd he was rather better, although he had much fever, and was able, with the help of my guiding his hand, to sign two or three papers of importance. On the 23rd, however, he became worse, and he dictated a letter to his brother, Dr. Davy, to say that he was dying; but the physicians who visited him daily three times, said he was not materially worse. He has often taken large doses of laudanum and acetate of morphine, (of the latter in one day upwards of twenty grains,) even more than his physicians approved, and on the 24th he was much worse, having passed a sleepless and very restless night. He was extremely weak, and his voice had sunk to a whisper scarcely audible; he said he felt his forces going, and that he should not outlive the day; yet his mental faculties maintained their power and activity, and seemed to be always occupied with the same subject, his Dialogues, the title of which, "Philosophical Dialogues," he said he wished to have changed for "The Last Days of a Philosopher; or, Consolations in Travel." I could not persuade him to take anything during the morning, and even the little which he had spoken to me seemed to have exhausted him. The idea that his dissolution was close at hand, was fixed in his mind, and saying that he had but a few hours longer to live, he begged to be left quiet and alone, and pressing my hand said, "God bless you, I shall never see you again." After this he lay in a torpor for many hours, but in the afternoon he revived a little, and Dr. Morichini at length succeeded in persuading him to take a little broth and a glass of champagne. The reading to him seems to afford him much pleasure, and I have often read to him till midnight; George always sits up with him, and, when anything occurs, immediately calls me. Since the 24th he has gradually got better, and on the 25th he recovered his voice, and was not quite so desponding as before, and the three following days found him still better, but now and then delirious, from the quantity of acetate of morphine which he has taken and still takes.

_29th-1st April._ Sir Humphry has been gradually recovering, and has now considerably regained the power over his limbs, and is often able to be upon the sofa the greater part of the day. It seems impossible for him to exist without being read to, and on one day I read Shakspeare to him for _nine_ hours. On the 15th of March Dr. Davy arrived from Malta, and Lady Davy from London on the 30th, she having travelled day and night. Their arrival relieved me from much anxiety. When Sir Humphry is able to bear travelling we shall leave Rome, and proceed to Geneva by way of Florence and Genoa, and at the latter city Dr. Davy will probably quit us to return to Malta. Sir Humphry has latterly found himself so much better, that he often takes a drive for an hour or two.

_20th._ This being Easter Monday, Sir Humphry determined to drive out and see the grand illumination of St. Peter's, which takes place annually on this evening. It was indeed one of the grandest sights imaginable, and we were remarkably fortunate in seeing it this year, when it was said to be more magnificent than usual, in honour of the newly elected pope. Between six and seven o'clock in the evening, thousands and thousands crowd over the Ponte St. Angelo to gain a place in the grand Piazza of St. Peter's. Only the carriages belonging to the cardinals and foreign ambassadors are allowed to pass over that bridge on this evening, all others being obliged to make a considerable detour. At seven o'clock the Piazza is crowded with all sorts of carriages, and upwards of an hundred thousand people. This front of the church, the cupola, and two smaller domes, are seen illuminated with innumerable small paper lanterns, fixed at regular distances. This lasts till nearly eight, and in the meanwhile the mass of the people in the Piazza are loud in their expression of joy and expectation, but as the hour of eight approaches all becomes still and hushed, and only a half-breathed solitary _adess', adesso_, is now and then heard. With the first stroke of the clock, the great bell of St. Peter's sounds _one_. All eyes turn instantly to the cross on the top of the cupola, from out of which a magnificent column of flame is seen suddenly to burst. A _second_ stroke upon the great bell, and the fire is seen descending with the rapidity of lightning over the cupola and the other parts of the church. The bell strikes for a _third_ and last time, and the two magnificent semicircular colonades which surround the Piazza, are beheld in a blaze of illumination. The whole is the work of three or four seconds, and so great is the light produced, that of the former illumination not a trace is visible. This lasted for about half an hour, when the lights faded away, and the crowd began to disperse.

_21st._ This day was celebrated by a magnificent display of fireworks, which the Italians call _la Girandola_, on the Mausoleum of Hadrian. They are announced by the explosion of a tremendous maroon, which seems to shake Rome to her centre; this is followed by the eruption of Vesuvius, formed by thousands of rockets, which rise at the same moment, and give to a person who has not witnessed an eruption, a terrific idea of that phenomenon. After this follow all kinds of fireworks of the most brilliant description, the whole fort is seen illuminated, and on the top appears the name of the Pope in gigantic flaming letters; suns and stars are seen bursting from the dense clouds of smoke which hang heavy in the air, and the scene closes by another eruption of Vesuvius, which throws a red and fiery glare upon the neighbouring cupola of St. Peter's.

_30th._ We this morning quitted Rome by the same gate through which we entered, and dined at Baccano, where we found the inn thronged with strangers, chiefly English, all flocking to the north. A few miles beyond Monte Rosa we turned out of our former road, and drove on to Ronciglione, a small village of dark black houses, in the midst of which rises a newly white-washed church and cupola, like a shining light in the village of darkness.

_1st May._ Leaving Ronciglione, we passed by the Lago di Vigo, a small lake, which lay beneath us as we wound up a very steep hill, from the top of which we enjoyed a magnificent view. In the plain beneath us lay Horace's Soracte; and beyond this mountain, and stretching towards the north as far as the eye could reach, the chain of the Appenines, whose lower regions were clad in the fresh green of spring, while the higher ridges were mostly covered with snow, above which rose the more distant summits of the Velino and many other snowy peaks, now hidden by light fleeting clouds, and then again glittering in a morning sun. At the bottom of the hill we passed through Viterbo, and after a drive of some hours over a hilly country, we came to Montefiascone, a small place, celebrated for its wine, which, if the following anecdote be true, once cost a reverend prelate his life. He was a great friend of good wines, and when on a journey used always to send a courier on before to taste the wines of the different places through which he was to pass, and when it was good he was ordered to write to his master _est bonum_, and when remarkably good, _est, est_. On tasting the wine at Montefiascone, the courier wrote _est, est, est bonum_, and his judgment seemed to have been right; for when his right reverend master arrived, he drank such a quantity of it that it occasioned his death. From the hill on which the town stands is a fine view of the lake of Bolsena, which appears to be the crater of an immense volcano of a former world. In the middle of the water rise two islands of solid rock, seemingly basalt, which is found in considerable quantity on the banks, and appears in some very remarkable formations near Bolsena, and the whole country around is volcanic tufa. Bolsena is the ancient capital of the Etruscans; it lies rather above the road, and we did not pass through it, but drove on to St. Lorenzo, a miserable collection of a few houses, where we stopped for the night at a very bad inn.

_2nd_. The first town after leaving St. Lorenzo was Aquapendente, a small and very ancient place, romantically situated in a rocky ravine. Between this town and Radicofani we left the Papal territories, and entered Tuscany. Radicofani is a small and very old town, on the brow of a steep hill, which is surmounted by an ancient ruined castle. The change in the Italian pronunciation almost instantly strikes the ear; for here a guttural sound is always predominant. The dress of the peasants also seems to have changed with the change of country; instead of the white and stiffly-starched handkerchiefs of the Roman females, laid in a square upon the head, and falling down the back, we now meet women with pretty black turbans, which give them a much more picturesque appearance; many of them also wear men's hats, only adding one or more black feathers as ornament. In this neighbourhood grows the famous wine of Monte-pelluciano, called by Redi, _Il re dei vini_. It was not, however, at all to my taste, for it seemed to me a strong, rough, red wine. The green-jacketed postilions of the Pope have disappeared, and in their place we met with red jackets, turned up with black. Having dined at Radicofani, we drove on through a hilly and barren country to La Scala, a lone house, where the vetturini stop for the night.