.ij^jn;»-r— 
 
 <:,. 
 
 -•■'ftllHS.- 
 
 -¥ 
 
 
 /"• 
 
 1*^-- 
 
 ■*<• - IW ,---"'«*^' . 
 
 ■■^ 
 
 'V 
 
6niBir*-*!5R.'-^-»',ri2i»- 
 
25. (Viaggi in Italia-Regno di Napoli-Fig. '800) - CASTELLAN Antoine Laurent 
 Letters on Italy. London, 1820. 4°, cart.; pp. 108 con 6 taw. di vedute (una 
 doppia) inc. f.t. '81 . v,'v-c. - 
 
 GU argomenti di queste lettere ugiiardano la descrizione di citta e centri 
 della Puglia (Brindisi, Giovenazzo, Monopoli, Barletta ecc), la visita at 
 monastero di Montevergine, il soggiorno napoletano e le gite a Pozzuoh, 
 Posillipo, Campi Flegrei ecc. con annotazioni sid carattere dei ttapoletani, 
 la descrizione delle antichita di Pompei ed infine il soggiorno romano e 
 fiorentino con osservazioni sul Carnevale e sidle bellezze artistiche delle 
 dne citta. Raro. 
 
LETTERS 
 
 ON 
 
 lltalg; 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 BY 
 
 A. L. CASTELLAN, 
 
 HONORARY MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF 
 FINE ARTS AT PARIS. 
 
 Hontjon: 
 
 PRINTED FOR SIR RICHARD PHILLIPS AND CO. 
 
 Bride Court, Bridge Street. 
 
 1820 
 
^; 
 
 1 
 
 PRINTED BY BENJAMIN BENSLEY, 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Street. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 M. CASTELLAN is well known to the Foreign Literary World hy his 
 " Lettres siir la Morie, V Hellespont, at Constantinople ;" to which his 
 Letters on Italy form a sequel. The Visit to Italy, of which he gives an 
 account in the latter work, was made at the conclusion of the last century. 
 
 These Letters are valuable, as they tend to show this delightful country 
 in a new point of view. M. CASTELLAN traversed Italy with the eye 
 and enthusiasm of an Artist, though not without bestowing due atteiition on 
 the remains of antiquity and tJpe interesting recollections with which the seat of 
 Roman greatness abounds. Equally attached to the beauties both of Nature 
 and Art, M. CASTELLAN has given a lively and spirited sketch of a 
 country which is favoured beyond all ethers in its delightful scenery, and in 
 its rich treasury of Works of Art. 
 
T 
 
 .u.t 
 
 gsvCsffa 
 
 'if 919 w 
 
 - doidv/ 
 
 *vfii{ 'blito'j 
 
TRAVELS IN ITALY, 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 Passage from Corfu to Italy — Arrival at Otranto — Earthquakes 
 in the kingdom of Naples — Temple of Minerva — Appearance 
 of Otranto — Passage to Brindisi — Visit to a Villa — The Con- 
 vents of Brindisi — State of the Town — Dresses of the Italians* 
 
 M. HE passage from Corfu to Italy does not in general occupy 
 more than four-and-tM'cnty hours : we were eight hours ere 
 Ave passed the eastern side of the island, visiting, much against 
 our will, eveiy little port. During the night the mountains of 
 Epirus presented a singular and imposing appearance : a thick 
 red-coloured smoke rolled round their sides, or surrounded 
 their summits with a fiery girdle. The wind added strength 
 to the flames and forced them into long sinuous streams, not 
 imlike torrents of lava, which seemed to blaze along the foot 
 of the mountains, displaying their shape by the reflexion of 
 their blaze. In short, the scene had all the appearance of a 
 vast volcanic eruption ; it was, however, nothing more than 
 the burning of the innumerable spic) shrubs which covered 
 the face of the country ; an operation which the husbandmen 
 find very useful in supplying fi'esh shoots of herbage, the suc- 
 ceeding spring, for their flocks. 
 
 At length, after tacking frequently, and having approached 
 very near the shores of Epirus, we were borne back on the 
 Isle of Fano, or the Scogli, which are indeed nothing but 
 shelves of rocks. A few half-starved wretches exist here, who 
 were unable to offer us provisions of any kind, not even water. 
 Our impatience increased when we beheld the Venetian galleys, 
 which swept through the channel with great rapidity, in every 
 part of it, by means of their powerful tiers of oars, and which 
 could have conveyed us instantaneously to our destination, \i 
 
 Voyage? and Travels, No. 5, Vol, III,. B 
 
2 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 the captains could have been prevailed on to lend us their 
 assistance. A real misfortune was now added to our per- 
 plexity; calculating upon the usual length of passage, the 
 provisions, which we had not spared, ^vere nearly all consumed, 
 and it was found necessary to limit us to a small ration. To 
 add to our difficulties the excessive heat of the weather had 
 corrupted our store of M^ater. This disagreeable situation was 
 becoming very alarming, when most fortunately a favourable 
 breeze sprung up Avhich bore us through the channel, and our 
 captain, like a new Achates, called out *' Italy, Italy!" and 
 pointed out in the horizon an elevated strip of land. " Italy !" 
 this word echoed through our hearts, which beat as joyfully as 
 those of the companions of iEneas, and with a kind of rapture 
 which we could not help feeling — a sentiment which every 
 artist would have felt in our situation, and which did not sur- 
 prise even our Greek sailors. 
 
 The coast of the ancient Apulia is exactly such as it is described 
 by Virgil, and it forms a striking opposition to the deep decli- 
 vities of the other shore. We now caught sight of the turrets 
 of Otranto, and with every sail stretched we ran to anchor, 
 rejoicing that we had arrived at the end of om* difficulties, 
 when a cannon-shot, hissing above our heads, pierced one of 
 our sails, and we perceived, on the other side of the roads, a 
 galley which made a signal for us to come to, and send on board 
 her. It would not have been wise to have refused such a 
 pressing invitation, and we did not wait to be asked a second 
 time. Our sailors let go the sail in terror, and the captain im- 
 mediately entered the boat; my friend accompanied him, and 
 tliey rowed away while we put the ship about to await the 
 result of this ill-auguring circumstance. When they arrived 
 on board the galley, the captain, who was incensed at our dis- 
 regard of his signals, threatened to sink our little vessel. He 
 had imagined it belonged to some fishernicn who would gladly 
 ofter him the first-fruits of their labour, but when he recog- 
 nised a French officer who could complain of this violent pro- 
 ceeding, he endeavoured to treat the matter as a joke, boasting 
 of his skill in firing so as to attract our attention, and procure 
 himself the pleasure of our acquaintance. My companion 
 told him that his pleasantry was rathe'' rough, and that we 
 should have preferred a little less address and more circumspec- 
 tion. The return of our embassy procured us the liberty of 
 comingto anchor, which we did at the entrance of the roads near 
 a mass of rocks, on the summit of which a small church is built. 
 
 Otranto has a very picturesque appearance : the view on 
 the right is terminated by the extreme j)oint of the rocks ; in 
 front lies a flat shore, which serves as a port for the un- 
 
City of Otranto. 3 
 
 shipping of goods, and a steep causeway, terminated by two 
 columns, and leading to the gate of the city. This shore is 
 used as a promenade by the inhabitants. In the back-ground 
 a few elevated spots of ground are covered with verdure. 
 
 The city extends on the left, and forms at the extremity a 
 rounded promontory. It is built on a platform of rocks which 
 fortify the shore, and afford a protection against the force of the 
 sea and the attacks of artillery. The citadel, which was built by 
 Alphonso of Arragon, and the ])lan of which is difficult to be 
 comprehended, is commanded by a square tower which sup- 
 ports a belfry on the top, to alarm all the coast when the 
 Turks endeavour to land. The remembrance of the horrors 
 suffered during the siege in 1480 from the Mussulmans who 
 mastered the city and threatened the surrounding country, still 
 keeps the inhabitants in a state of watchful alarm. 
 
 Earthquakes are frequent in the kingdom of Naples. In 
 1450 one was felt which spread terror amongst all the in- 
 habitants, and for many months they lived in fear of being 
 buried under the ruins of their habitations. The province of 
 Otranto suffered extremely ; and the Terra di lavoro, Abruzzo, 
 and Puglia were covered with iiiins. Some castles were 
 swallowed up without leaving the slightest trace behind themj 
 and 30,000 persons are computed to have perished. At length, 
 in order to appease the divine anger, king Alphonso commanded 
 a procession to Brindisi, to the ancient church of Santa Maria di 
 Leuca, situated on the promontory of Otranto. On this spot 
 formerly stood a temple, which is said to have been that of 
 Minerva, seen by i'Eneas on his first arrival in Italy. 
 
 We may here observe, that the temples of Minerva have 
 resisted the attacks of time better than those of any other 
 divinity — probably because this goddess, who was the patroness 
 of wisdom, found more favour in the eyes of the Christians 
 than any other heathen deity. Whatever be the reason there 
 certainly remain many of her temples which have been con- 
 verted into churches. We may mention that at Athens, which 
 would still have remained entire but for an unfortunate ac- 
 cident; at Rome, the temple of Minerva Medica, the church 
 of Santa Maria della Minerva, &c. 
 
 We may also remark, that with very little alteration the 
 statues of this goddess might have been rendered subservient 
 to the Christian worship, and that many of the ancient 
 Madonnas resemble in attitude and drapery the images of 
 Minerva ; for it was nearly the fifteenth century before the 
 Virgin was represented holding the infant Jesus, 
 
 The houses of Otranto rise above the line of ruins which 
 surround the crumbling walls, and croAvn them in an agreeable 
 
4 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 and picturesque manner. In the gimplicity of their form, in 
 their flat roofs, in the terraces by Avhich they are termiiiate(i, 
 and in the small windows so distant from one another, we re- 
 cognized the style which painters attribute to Italian buildings, 
 and which differ exceedingly from that of the edifices of other 
 countries. 
 
 Diversity of climate ought always to govern the mode of 
 building. Here the absence of snow renders useless the pin- 
 nacles which disfigure our houses. The necessity of breathing 
 the fresh air in the night, and the custom of sometimes sleep- 
 ing in the open air, are the causes of their terraces and verantlas j 
 while their windows, being few and small, admit less heat into 
 the interior of their habitations. The Italians, however, have 
 nothing further to do than to pursue the taste of their ances- 
 tors; and vre may see they still inherit their genius by the 
 character of grandeur, simplicity, and beauty, \vhich dis- 
 tinguishes all their buildings, — from the simplest cottage to 
 palaces and temples. 
 
 In consequence of the necessity of performing quarantine 
 we were not allowed time to examine the interior of Otranto ; 
 we were therefore not able to judge of its riches and its popu- 
 lation, which is said to amount to 3000 souls. The quay was 
 covered with merchandizes, and the number of ships which 
 frequented the port made us conclude that commerce was in a 
 flourishing state : the city also appeared busy and active. In 
 the evening we perceived on the beach some equipages more 
 rich than elegant, and some gentlemen on horseback well 
 mounted. The pretty peasant girls wore bodices of taffeta 
 and skirts of white muslin, and their heads were covered with 
 straw hats or silk handkerchiefs. Until the night was far ad- 
 vanced the air resounded with strains of music, and with 
 melodious voices mingling with the sound of all kinds of 
 instniments. '"" 
 
 Our passage from Otranto to Brindisi, where we were to 
 finish the period of our quarantine, ^vas very short. Our 
 hearts seemed to expand with the thought that we should 
 shortly be no longer exposed to the caprice of the winds and 
 waves, and that after a period of captivity, too long for our 
 wishes, we should be permitted to traverse a land wliich we 
 almost considered as our own country. '^^* 
 
 The city of Brindisi is built upon a point of land, the angle 
 of which juts into the port. A lofty colunni of ancient white 
 marble rises on this sjwt, surmounted M'ith a rich composite 
 capital; and near it lie the pedestal and base of a similar column 
 which they told us had been transported to Lecca, the chief 
 tQwn of the province so called, where it adorns the principal 
 
City of BrindisL 5 
 
 square, and supports the statue of the tutelary saint. The 
 other edifices of Brindisi are constructed of brick and stone; 
 churches covered with roofs of flat tiles, or with depressed 
 domes, with their square and arcaded belfrys supported by little 
 columns, gave us a good idea of the Lombard architecture which 
 preceded the revived style, and which displayed a character 
 very superior to that of the crowd of buildings of later ages 
 where the beauty of the edifice is lost in the excess of useless 
 ornament, and in the contortion of every architectural part. 
 Here and there palm trees rise, intermingled with a few 
 cypress and other trees, which form a fine contrast with the 
 buildings, and render their outline very picturesque. 
 
 At length the period of our quarantine expired. Impatient 
 to enjoy the pleasure of once more walking at liberty, and to 
 satisfy om* curiosity, we travers^ed the city in every direction. 
 After having been so long shut up in our little vessel without 
 the least exercise, the height of every thing we saw, and the 
 length of the streets appeared prodigious to us ; every new 
 object drew from us an exclamation of joy or of surprise, and 
 the view of the country above all produced the most delicious 
 sensations. 
 
 This taste was particularly gratified by a visit to a villa, 
 which possessed great attractions for the artist and the an- 
 tiquarian. Although the buildings were sinking into niin, and 
 the gardens were abandoned to the dominion of Nature, who 
 seemed to have asserted over them all her rights, we Avere no 
 less surprised than enchanted by recognising in this situation 
 all the characteristic marks of an ancient villa. These it has 
 preserved by reason of its never having ceased for ages 
 together to belong to contented families, who, averse to change, 
 thought it was sufficient if they enjoyed the pleasures of their 
 ancestors, and who had not therefore been tempted to make 
 any change in the order and ancient disposition of the place. 
 
 It is not built on a veiy regular plan, and the builder has 
 confined himself to the advantages which the inequality of the 
 ground afforded, which is supported in some places by terraces, 
 under which there are vaulted halls, ornamented with stuccoes 
 and paintings, and which served the ancient proprietors, as 
 they may still serve the present, as a refuge during the intense 
 heat. 
 
 The part which appeared best preserved was a large gallery 
 (ambulacrum), shadowed by a very ancient vine, if one may- 
 judge from the size of the branches, which twines itself around 
 the marble columns. Most of the capitals bear marks of an- 
 tiquity; their form is very simple: it consists of a square 
 basket, on the planes of which are carved in relief the symbols 
 
6 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 of agriculture, or animals, such as sheep, goats, &c. A few of 
 these capitals, which exhibit marks of repair, clearly of modern 
 date, enable us to judge more accurately of the antiquity of 
 the others. 
 
 Less curious to examine the city of Brindisi than to dis- 
 tinguish amidst modern structures, or those of the middle age, 
 traces of the ancient Bnmdusium, we should have preferred 
 calling up the manes of their ancestors to conversing with the 
 present inhabitants. However, we were obliged to be content 
 with the living, and we prepared to pay some visits. Our first 
 was to the Governor of Brindisi j he could not receive us, as 
 he was in the access of a fever. Our next was to the Arch- 
 bishop, but he was too ill, and had been carried into the 
 country. This account gave us much concern, as he was re- 
 presented as a very respectable character, a man of learning, 
 and a lover of the arts. He possesses a rich cabinet of an- 
 tiquities. 
 
 The convents only'were left, to give us an idea of the society 
 of Brindisi : let not this sentence astonish the reader, for his 
 surprise must soon cease. The cloister and society! these 
 certainly in former times were incompatible expressions, but 
 they are now no longer so— we are told that the Jesuits gave 
 to their order the title of a society, and that in fact they caused 
 a revolution in the monasteries, which seem from this period 
 to have almost become the asylum of tolerance, politeness, and 
 proper enjoyment. The monks, without losing any of the 
 dignity of their situation, have adopted the tone and manners 
 of polished society. This change is very perceptible at Brin- 
 disi, where, without any exaggeration, nearly half the people 
 are inhabitants of convents. The reason of this is very simple : 
 in a confined situation, possessing neither the advantages of 
 industry nor of commerce, the citizens are exposed for three- 
 quarters of the year to obstinate maladies, which make them 
 prefer the comfort and assistance which association affords to 
 the solitude of a private family : the poverty of many indi- 
 viduals is another powerful cause. In the convents are found 
 cheerful company, games of all kinds, and music ; so that, in 
 fact, their apartments are become saloons. We have visited 
 several convents of females: the ladies crowded into the room, 
 and shewed much anxiety to see us ; they overwhelmed us 
 with questions as frivolous as our answers, but some delight- 
 ful music came to our assistance; voices such as we then 
 heard are only found in cloisters ; the hymns sung in perfect 
 harmony, accompanied by the organ and other musical instru- 
 ments, produced a great effect — it seemed almost like a con- 
 cert of angels in the middle regions of the sky.- Abundance 
 
City of Brindisi. f 
 
 of refreshments were offered us, and we departed with a veiy 
 agreeable impression of these religious establishments. 
 
 We have mentioned the poverty of the town ; the interior 
 of it is consequently gloomy and silent ; the least article ©f 
 luxury cannot be obtained here ; in fact, sickness has depopu- 
 lated whole streets. There are some large houses Avhich are 
 called palaces, but they are uninhabited, and the long grass 
 waves in their court-yards ; the proprietors have fled to seek 
 elsewhere a purer air, and a less monotonous life ; on the 
 walks a few women may be seen, and now and then some 
 monks : we remarked three heavy-built coaches drawn by 
 mules ; they contained monks. 
 
 The port, which should present an animated picture of mer- 
 chandize and commercial bustle, is even more dull than the 
 town ; it only displays a stranded galley and a few boats. 
 The works ordered by Government languish, affording em- 
 ployment to some galley-slaves, who are guarded by almost 
 an equal number of soldiers, for the most part sickly and 
 diseased : the usual food of both is large white onions, and the 
 inhabitants do not fare much better. Troops of beggars assail, 
 the church, and the doors of the convents, where souj) is dis- 
 tributed : misery is here so great, and disease so extended, that 
 one hospital was not sufficient, and they were obliged to erect 
 another. The inhabitants of the countiy seem to enjoy an 
 easier life, at least if one may judge by the costume of the 
 women, which is very neat. 
 
 In general, I believe there is no country where dress is more 
 elegant and rich than in the kingdom of Naples — it varies 
 from canton to canton, and from village to village, with the 
 strangest singularity. The costume of the inhabitants of Brin- 
 disi appeared very remarkable, especially of the men, who 
 wear our fashions of fifty years since ; our fashions, indeed, 
 make the tour of Europe, but they arrive very late at its ex- 
 tremity. Paris, which is the centre of activity, necessarily 
 possesses less influence in proportion to distance; fashions 
 there are like the flowers which bloom during the day, and 
 fade at night ; -carried into the provinces they live a little 
 longer, and when, at last they reach foreign countries, they 
 take root and flourish there a long time. 
 
 jIO; 
 
■ 8 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 Departure from Brindisi — San Vito della Macchia — Fine kmd- 
 scape — Ottara — Monopoli — Ruins of Egnatia — Polignano — • 
 Sbigular Caverns — Mola — Bari — Fine tract of Country — Gio- 
 vinazzo — Towns on the Coast — Ancient roads — Barletta — 
 Description of the field of CanncB — the Tavogliere of La Paglia 
 — Fine mountain vieiv — Bovino — Beautiful scenery — Ariano — ■■ 
 Plain of Avellino — Monte P^rgine — Cemetery of the White 
 Benedictines. 
 
 We set off from Brindisi, and it was too late ere we reached 
 San Vito della Macchia, to flatter ourselves with the hope of 
 seeing this little town to advantage, which we were told would 
 well repay the trouble. It is also called San Vito degli Schiavi, 
 from a tradition that it was built at the commencement of the 
 15th centuiy by slaves, who erected there a magnificent 
 church and a splendid palace. We had no opportunity of 
 judging of these, but we were sure of one thing, that the 
 founders had extended very little of their munificence to their 
 inns, for that where we lodged, and which was the best or 
 rather the only one, was very miserable, and yet the popu- 
 lation amounts to 4000 souls. 
 
 The Vettnrino did not fail to awaken us an hour before our 
 departure, that we might not make him wait, as we had a 
 day's journey of 35 miles before us. 
 
 The Sim, as it arose, discovered a veiy interesting country. 
 The chain of the Apennines was on our left, and the blue 
 summit of these mountains had a very picturesque effect. On 
 our right the sea burned with the rays of the sim, which 
 seemed to pour down from the top of an ancient fortress called 
 Santa Sabina, one of the strongest on the coast. Here and 
 there some trees were scattered, and some shepherds' huts, 
 whilst the flocks were seen hastening to the pasture grounds. 
 We could also perceive the little town of Ostuni, situated on 
 a hill, and surrounded with woods, which supply the inhabi- 
 tants with the pleasures of the chace. The appearance of the 
 country, the fine weather, the open air, and the cxercisCj 
 
Ruins ofEgnatia. 9 
 
 seemed to strengthen us, and give an appetite. We arrived 
 in this disposition at Ottara, where we were to dine. 
 
 Our vehicle stopped in the yard of the most wretched and 
 dilapidated inn which can he imagined. The Vetturino hav- 
 ing told us, that, as we had still a considerable distance to go, 
 we could only stop a veiy little time, immediately left us, and 
 bestowed all his attention on his horses ; we had then to run 
 from house to house to collect some miserable provisions for 
 our still more miserable dinner. It was nevertheless very late 
 when we arrived at Monopoli, and we had much difficulty in 
 procuring them to open the gates. 
 
 Before resting an entire day in this town, we could not resist 
 the desire of visiting the ruins of the ancient Egnatia, to 
 which, it is said, this town owes its origin. The walk was yery 
 agreeable at this season of the year. We directed our steps 
 towards the Abbey of San Stephano, formerly a commandery 
 of the Knights Hospitallers, through odorous groves of oranges 
 and lemons which surrounded it. At a little distance, and on 
 the borders of the sea, there stands a small fortress, protected 
 by artilleiy, and garrisoned by some soldiers, who are always 
 ready in case of alarm, on the signal of the gimrdia-marina, to 
 march towards that part of the coast which is attacked : soon 
 afterwards we arrived at the scite of Egnatia. 
 
 The spectacle of a town in ruins and depopulated, is one 
 which ought to excite the attention of the historian, the man of 
 observation, and the artist; the one find traditions, the other 
 sensations, and the third picturesque effect ; and all of them 
 deplore the disasters of a powerful city, whose history has 
 perished from the memory of man. 
 
 The traces of the ancient towers and walls of the city are 
 visible, but we could not find the temple of which preceding 
 travellers have spoken ; nor did we penetrate into the place 
 wliich is called il Parco, and which has a subterraneous vaulted 
 corridor lighted with glass. The other edifices, as the halls of 
 baths, tombs, aqueducts, &c. present nothing but a heap of 
 ruins, round which parasitic plants have climbed. Egnatia 
 did not answer our expectations, notwithstanding all our desire 
 to see it. 
 
 From Monopoli to Polignano we followed the sea-coast, 
 where, at stated distances, guards are placed. The country 
 is more fertile than picturesque, and is planted with olives 
 and vines. 
 
 Polignano is a pretty little town, built upon rocks, which 
 
 are hollowed into caverns, into which the sea- water flows, and 
 
 which may be traversed in boats; they descend into them 
 
 from the town by stairs cut in the rock. The populatioa is 
 
 VoYAttSS and Tbavei.s, No, 5. VoU III, C 
 
10 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 reckoned at 4000 souls, and includes many respectable fami- 
 lies ; the country aroinid produces good wine and fruits, and 
 the port excellent fish. 
 
 Mola, where we dined, and which is called Mola di Bari, to 
 distinguish it from Mola di Gaeta, is situated on the road from 
 Naples to Capua. It possesses a citadel, said to have been 
 founded by an Athenian colony, on a point which projects into 
 the sea. The inhabitants, who are reckoned at 8000, have 
 preserved nothing of the taste and politeness of their ancestors ; 
 the streets are narrow and dark ; some soap and leather manu- 
 factories render them filthy and unhealthy : there is also a 
 custom-house and a salt warehouse. After having travelled 
 during the day on a very flat but rocky and fatiguing road, we 
 arrived at Bari, one of the most interesting towns on this coast. 
 
 Every little tovvn which we have passed through on our 
 route, boasts, perhaps with reason, of the importance which 
 its antiquity confers on it, or of the historical facts of which it 
 has been the theatre. The inhabitants never fail to relate eveiy 
 revolution, vicissitude, and disaster, which can be remembered, 
 and to name the emperors, kings, and bishops, and, in short, 
 every important personage who has given them cause to grieve 
 or rejoice. The vicissitudes which Bari has experienced, have 
 left it very few relics of antiquity ; all that we saw was an 
 ancient mile-stone marked the 28th. 
 
 Oct. 25. — On leaving Bari we were much delighted by the 
 beauty of the country, so well cultivated and sowed, as it were, 
 at small distances with little towns, all situated on the borders 
 of the sea, with convenient ports for small craft, and surrounded 
 with rural farms, cottages, and villas, which gave an idea 
 of the riches and industry of the inhabitants. We distinguished, 
 in the gardens, plantations of orange and lemon trees, arbours 
 of vines, hedges of laurels, and parterres bordered with cut 
 box, containing all the flowers of the season. We also tra- 
 velled through woods of large olive-trees, which stretched 
 nearly to the borders of the sea, and through fields covered 
 the cotton plant. At this period of the year many Albanians 
 pass over into Italy to assist the labourers ; and, as they pre- 
 serve their costume, we had much pleasure in recognising in 
 Italy the habits and manners of Greece. The citizens and 
 peasants whom we met on our route were well cloathed and 
 mounted ; they saluted us in a friendly manner, and possessed 
 an air of happiness, from which we inferred they were well 
 governed : the municipal administration is, in fact, well con- 
 ducted. Each of these little towns possesses respectable pub- 
 lic establishments, academies for youth, and hospitals for the 
 poor, the infirm, and the destitute. 
 
Ancient roads—Sarletta. 11 
 
 Giovenazzo, the first of these towns after Bari, is old, and 
 built, it is said, on the ruins of Natiolo or Netio ; but the 
 period of its construction is uncertain : it is surrounded by 
 walls, and its cathedral is in a good style of architecture. The 
 population is said to amount to 5,200. A few miles further on 
 lies Molfetta, a modern town, whose inhabitants, in number 
 3000, are said to be very industrious. Then follows BescegUa, 
 built on a rock which is washed by the sea. 
 
 It is remarkable, that in this part of the country the houses 
 of the peasants are all built on the same model ; at first, on 
 the authority of former travellers, we imagined them to be 
 ancient tombs, which they resemble in form : they are built in 
 isolated situations, and rise here and there in the midst of the 
 plains and pasture grounds, for here the TavoUere commences. 
 (See Plate I.) 
 
 Trani, like the other towns situated on the coast, is built of 
 a yellowish stone, which does not grow darker by exposure 
 to the atmosphere, and which gives the edifices a light plea- 
 sant appearance. This town contains some curious monuments, 
 and is inhabited by many of the nobility. The population is 
 reckoned at 14,000 souls ;' but it possesses less commerce than 
 Barletta, where we arrived very late Avith an intention of slay- 
 ing two days. 
 
 In the time of the Romans, Magna Graecia was intersected 
 by an infinite number of roads ; and although the Via Appia 
 was the most celebrated, there were many others equally good, 
 and constructed with the same care— such as the Domitiana, 
 the Herculeana, that of Campania or the Consularis, the No- 
 iana, the Latina, the Egnatiana, and the Brusiana, which led 
 from Reggio to Calabria. These roads had all their different 
 branches; at present there is only one great road, which 
 traverses the kingdom, and that is in bad repair. 
 
 The streets of Barletta are straight and Avell paved ; the 
 walls, which are a mile in circuit, are solidly constructed, and 
 the citadel is strong : they shew to strangers the Orfanosio, 
 or retreat for orphans, two schools of jjolite learning, and some 
 churches. Here resides the Reggio Portolano, who, under the 
 command of the royal chamber of Naples, inspects the pro- 
 visions which are collected in the Capitanate and the territory 
 of Bari. Here also the Royal Council of Commerce is held, 
 and this town is the residence of the Inspector of the Salt 
 Manufactories, and of the Grand Prior of Malta, who holds 
 the assemblies at which the Knights bring proof of their no- 
 bility. The number of inhabitants is said to be 16,000. 
 
 We now made a visit to the celebrated field of Cannae. The 
 expression which is applied to designate the theatre, where 
 
12 Castellan's Travels in Italy. " 
 
 the pride of the monarch-people was humbled, gives a strong 
 idea of the traces which this terrible catastrophe has left on 
 the mind, and of the consternation which seized the people 
 of that day, and which has descended to their posterity — the 
 plain is called, II canipo di sangue, or the Field of Blood. It is 
 very sterile, and contains only a few scattered villages, and 
 crowds of cattle which with their rude conductors wander about 
 in the pathless waste. After having left on our right the Adriatic 
 and the Castle of Barletta, situate some miles from that town 
 at the mouth of the Ofanto, we crossed that river by a bridge. 
 This stream is the ancient Aufidus, Avhich, in the sanguinary 
 contest at Cannse, was covered with floating corpses. When 
 we had crossed the river we entered an immense plain, which, 
 as far as the eye could reach, did not contain a single tree. 
 We were only interrupted by numerous flocks, w^iich were 
 spread over this sterile land ; from morning to night nothing 
 was heard but the barking of shepherd-dogs, the shouts of 
 their masters, and the sound of their horns, with which they 
 answered one another, or collected their flocks. 
 
 We passed some very miserable villages — San Cassano, La- 
 tomba, and Cirignola ; between Cirignola and La Stornara we 
 passed the two branches of the Tratturo delle pecore, which 
 lead from Foggia the capital of the province — the one towards 
 Ascoli, the other towards Canosa, We arrived very late at 
 Ordona, an inn surrounded by some huts, where we could 
 get nothing but rushes to sleep on. Having foreseen the ab- 
 solute nakedness of this land, we luckily provided ourselves 
 with some viands, which it would have been impossible to 
 procure there. 
 
 It is now time to give some account of the TavoUere of La 
 Puglia, of which we have traversed the greater part. They 
 give this name to the tract of land which lies between the 
 Adriatic and the Apennines, and which extends from Civitare 
 to Andria, in length about 70 miles, and in breadth 30. This 
 vast plain of pasturage is frequented by a set of people, whose 
 cattle successively consume the herbage of every part; yet it 
 would maintain more human creatures than it does cattle at 
 present, if the system of pasturage, which is favoured by the 
 Government from pecuniary motives, were not preferred to 
 tillage. At the present mdment the Tavoliere supports im- 
 mense flocks of sheep, and the revenue arising from it is 
 reckoned at 425,600 ducats. 
 
 At some miles from Ordona we began to remark the pro- 
 gress of vegetation ; first a few thickets, and then some plan- 
 tations of olives, which certainly were sufficiently distant from 
 one another. At length Ave perceived the mountains so long 
 
Bovtno-^ltalian Scenery. 13 
 
 wished for, and by their blue tint could see they were covered 
 with vast forests ; as we approached them we felt a sensation 
 of delight which can be experienced by none but painters — 
 their forms gradually expanded, and the outlines of each 
 became visible, and we could distinguish the different kinds 
 of trees with which they were covered, and the little villages 
 and rural habitations built on their sides. We now began to 
 ascend a more elevated country ; the cattle of Sauri is the first 
 object in this interesting picture ; it commands the plain inter- 
 sected by the windings of the Cervaro ; Bovino next presented 
 itself to our attention. 
 
 This town must formerly have been of much importance, 
 if we may judge by the ruins with which it is surrounded, and 
 the marbles, medals, and other antiquities which are found 
 in turning the ground. We had 20 miles to go ere we 
 reached Ariano, so having dined in haste, favoured by the 
 most beautiful weather we gave ourselves up to all the en- 
 chantment of the sylvan pictures, which unfolded themselves 
 to our eyes during the remainder of this, and for several suc- 
 ceeding days. Sometimes the road lay along narrow parapets, 
 raised on and bounded by deep declivities ; sometimes it was 
 elevated on lofty causeways, and now it was formed of bridges 
 thi'own from rock to rock, in order to leave a free passage to 
 the wintry torrents; farther on it descended with a gentle 
 slope to the bottom of the vallies ; then we followed the 
 windings of streams, whose rapid waters dashed past rocks 
 which impeded their course, or finding a smoother channel, 
 murmured through the meadows, beneath the shade of nut- 
 trees and alders. 
 
 Although it was late in the year, vegetation \vas still rich 
 and abundant ; in the plains which we had quitted the trees 
 had become bare, and the meadows scorched up by the heat, 
 and covered with dust : but here the trees bore the rich 
 livery of autumn, the vines glowed with a purple hue, and 
 the transparent grapes fostered by a refreshing dew, hung in 
 clusters from the extremity of the branches. The hills were 
 covered with orchards, from which Pomona filled her rudrly 
 baskets, and the summits of the mountains were cloathed 
 with the unfading verdure of the pine. 
 
 Occasionally, isolated and arid rocks rose before us, crowned 
 with ancient castles, whose pyramidal keeps were now only 
 the refuge of ravens, or the boast of noble families, whose 
 origin they recalled. The picture varied every instant ; when 
 we traversed, in the morning, a deep valley, the shadows of 
 the mountains generally covered the greater part of it, while 
 the opposite heights burned^ with all the rays of the rising 
 
14 Castellan's Travels in Italy, 
 
 sun ; these rays darting through the summits of the rocks, 
 pierced in luminous columns the mass of dense vapours which 
 were collected in the valley; while at night the immense disk 
 of that brilliant luminary sinking before us, illuminated all 
 our path. Before it disappeared, it seemed to communicate a 
 rapid motion to a million of floating atoms in the inflamed 
 atmosphere, which, as it sunk, were plunged, like ourselves, 
 into the shade and the stillness of night. 
 
 I have traversed many countries, all celebrated for the 
 beauty of their scenery ; I have travelled through Greece, 
 Italy, and Switzerland, and the livelier plains of my own 
 country, but I have no where met with such a rich union of 
 picturesque objects as in the kingdom of Naples. 
 
 The climate of this province is more temperate, and the 
 air more pure than that of Campania ; the towns are almost 
 all of them built upon the sides of hills ; the elevation of the 
 ground, and its mountainous form, render it colder than Cam- 
 pania ; indeed, frost commences at the end of October, but 
 the rivers never are frozen. This province produces good 
 marble, and has a salt mine at Monte-Fuscoli. Notwithstand- 
 ing the feudal system, it is the best peopled part of the king- 
 dom after Campania ; the pasture-grounds are few ; as for 
 thefts, the number was so great that we left off" counting 
 them ; we lost several little articles by the way, but all our 
 inquiries after them were vain ; all the answer we got was an 
 articulate sound, a grimace, or a shrug of the slioulders, as 
 though they mocked us. Having left an article of some value 
 at our inn Ave despatched a messenger back for it, having the 
 politeness to pay him before hand : the consequence was, that 
 neither messenger or property ever made their appearance. 
 
 At length we perceived Ariana, situated on a range of high 
 rock which rose in the midst of a plain washed by tlie Calore and 
 the Tripaldo; we reached the town after many windings, for our 
 course resembled that of a vessel in distress, which is obliged 
 repeatedly to tack in order to enter the port. The fatigue of 
 our horses, which had ceased to regard the admonitions of 
 the whip, the coldness of the evening air, and the calls of 
 hunger increased our impatience, which seemed to afford 
 much diversion to our driver ; he insisted on the advantages 
 of the impregnable situation of the town; he boasted of the 
 purity of the air, and the beauty of the prospect, and answered 
 all our pressing inquiries by the words adesso, adesso, arriviamo, 
 ci vuoljiegma. We had need of all our patience not to lay a 
 hearty malediction on the men, whose madness had led them 
 to build their habitations out of human reach. 
 
 .iU'ianp is a miserable town; all its manufactures consist of 
 
Ariano — Monte Virgine. 15 
 
 common earthenware: the soil is mixed with marine remains. 
 The country between Ariano and Avellino presents some very 
 picturesque prospects ; sometimes embosomed in rocks, and 
 amid the deepest solitude, we listened to the rush of the tor- 
 rents, the cries of the birds of prey, and the roar of the winds 
 which swept through the clefts of the mountains. Farther on 
 we found ourselves buried in the deep silence of woods which 
 seemed impenetrable. On leaving the forests the scene 
 clianged, and as we emerged we perceived by the noise of a 
 mill, the barking of dogs, or the zampogna (the pipe of a shep- 
 herd,) that we were in the neighbourhood of human habita- 
 tions. At last the plain of Avellino was spread before our 
 eyes in all its richness. 
 
 There is not a spot in it uncultivated ; every part is covered 
 with vegetation ; orchards are mingled with vines, and mea- 
 dows with corn-fields : all the gifts of Nature are lavished 
 most luxuriously, which delight the eye, and rejoice the 
 senses. Magnificent avenues of trees lead to the gates of the 
 town ; and, as the traveller enters, he recognizes the bustle of 
 commerce and industry, the footsteps of the arts, and all the 
 appearance of a populous city. 
 
 On the Monte Vergine there is a convent of white Benedic- 
 tines, founded about 1 134 ; the cemetery of the convent is con- 
 sidered as a curious object ; it is a vast cavern on the same 
 level with the church, and is cut in the rock : it has the sin- 
 gular property of preserving the bodies deposited in it, in the 
 freshness of the period of their dissolution. On leaving this 
 town we left Monte Vergine on our right ; the appearance of 
 this mountain is curious, it is sprinkled over with chapels, 
 oratories, and crosses, the whole length of the winding way 
 which leads to the sanctuary. The buildings present a very 
 picturesque outline, and the whole effect is almost theatrical. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 Arrival at Naples — Character of the Neapolitans — Vesuvius — 
 Castel-nuovo — View from the Gulf of Naples — Visit to Pouz- 
 zuole — Grotto of Pausilypo — Curious effect of the sun-beams — 
 Singular phenomenon — Remains of Antiquity — The Solfatara 
 Tomb of Virgil — and of Sanazaro. 
 
 TT E are in Naples! The city of which the Italians them- 
 selves are at a loss for expressions of sufficient admiration, 
 compressing thfcir praise into the proverb — See Naples and die! 
 
18 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 As we approached we entered the walks which extend from 
 the gates of the city, bordered with fountains, chapels, and 
 houses of entertainment ; a little later and it would have been 
 pleasant enough, but at present it was nothing but a scene of 
 noise, dust, and disorder — only imagine crowds of peasants in 
 every description of dress, carts loaded with the produce of 
 the country jostling brilliant equipages preceded by outriders, 
 open carriages, and horsemen spurring through the crowd, and 
 in the midst of this confusion our melancholy vehicle dragged 
 slowly on by our tired horses. 
 
 The Neapolitan delights in ease, pleasure, and noise ; he is 
 full of vivacity, speaks quickly, and at great length ; and he 
 has great power of comic expression in his gestures, which are 
 innumerable ; much attached to fetes and shews, notbing is 
 seen but rope-dancers, pickpockets, puppet-shows, and ballad- 
 singers : they make great use of the tambourine, of the casta-^ 
 nets, or nacchere, and of the colascino, a two-stringed instru- 
 ment. Their religious festivals are generally preferred, and 
 they certainly are very brilliant. The churches seem to be 
 converted into theatres, and resound with light and cheerfnl 
 sounds ; the audience turn their backs on the altar, and fix 
 all their attention on the orchestra. The processions are an 
 object of great curiosity ; they extend to an immense length, 
 as almost the whole population of the city is enrolled in some 
 one ot the fraternities of white, blue, grey, or black penitents. 
 
 The pleasures of the table are much sought after by the 
 Neapolitans, the least sober of all the Italians. During the 
 carnival, and the great festivals, the streets seem loaded with 
 viands, which are scarcely sufficient to supply the consump- 
 tion of the day ; at every corner stand immense baskets of 
 maccaroni, which the passengers carry away by handsfull ; 
 while ices are distributed from coolers filled with snow. At 
 another place you may see them measuring out to the Lazza- 
 roni the coffee, which they call levante, and which if it does 
 not possess the fine flavour, at least has the colour. Pride and 
 misery, which in great capitals border so nearly on one ano- 
 ther, present in Naples a striking picture ; individuals who 
 sport splendid equipages, lacqueys, and couriers cloathed in 
 rich liveries, live in the most restricted style in the interior of 
 their palaces, of which they perhaps only inhabit the garrets. 
 
 The Lazzaroni, however, seem to boast of their poverty ; 
 they walk bare-footed, and frequently without shirts, and sleep 
 in such places as the recesses of a church. These people are 
 completely unincumbered, without a hearth, and witiiout a 
 home, they live continually in the open air ; as soon as they 
 have collected a few carlini, they spend them in a glass of ice. 
 
Appearance of Vesuvius. 1/ 
 
 or some boiled maccaroni ; they then fall to sleep, till urged 
 again by necessity to seek their little sum of money, that they 
 may once more enjoy their benedetto far niente. There are 
 many different accounts given of the Lazzaroni : some pretend 
 that they form a separate body, and elect a king who enjoys a 
 pension, and that their number amounts to 40,000, all which 
 is false — the population of Naples is only 400,200, and it is 
 very improbable that a tenth part of it should be composed of 
 Lazzaroni. 
 
 In the manners, institutions, and even language of the Nea- 
 politans, the footsteps of strangers are visible ; the French 
 more especially have left many traces of their dominion ; their 
 name even is become the generic designation of strangers, 
 and the word Frank is applied to every foreigner. The Greek 
 origin of the Neapolitans may be still perceived in their phy- 
 siognomy and their character ; they possess the intelligence 
 and quickness of perception, and even the manual address 
 for which the Greeks were remarkable ; they are like them 
 lovers of noise, joy, and pleasantry, and of mimicry and 
 satirical productions ; we therefore find amongst them the 
 best mimics : the facetious Tiberio Fiorelli, who gained such 
 celebrity in France, under the name of Scaramouch, came 
 from Naples. 
 
 One of the greatest objects of my curiosity on my amval at 
 Naples was Vesuvius ; my surprise and disappointment were 
 great on beholding this celebrated mountain — I had imagined 
 to myself a volcano ploughed into deep furrows by streams of 
 lava, which marked with black traces their devastating path ; 
 I thought to walk amongst hanging rocks, demolished edi 
 fices, and the crumbling ruins of the mountain over which 
 clouds of thick floating smoke passed, forming a scene almost 
 resembling one of the mouths of Tartarus : in fact, however, 
 I only saw a hill of ordinary dimensions, of a broad conical 
 shape, without any variety in its appearance, without any 
 inequality in its declivity, of an uniform ashy colour, and the 
 crater of which exhales a little vapour, which is only percep- 
 tible in the morning and at evening, when the rays of the sun 
 fall upon it obliquely. No doubt the volcano, filled with fire 
 and flame, burning in the darkness of night, and terrifying the 
 countiy, its bellowing and shaking would have produced a 
 livelier impression on my senses, than this dark and sterile 
 mass which rises in the midst of a flourishing country. 
 Nevertheless, when one thinks how a whole people can gaily 
 dance and sing on the edge of this terrific precipice — ^that 
 their harvests, their orchards, and their delicious villas, are 
 supported by. a thin bed of earth, cloathed indeed with the 
 
 VoYAGfis and TBAYfi|,§. No, 5, VoU UL J> 
 
18 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 most verdant carpet, but undermined by ever-burning- fires, 
 which may at any moment engulph them — this contrast of ani- 
 mated and vigorous life with a spot where every thing lan- 
 guishes and dies — this opposition oi the brightest colours with 
 an uniform grey and livid tint — the silent crater, and the pro- 
 found but deceitful calm — all inspire a melancholy kind of 
 feeling, and a conviction of disaster, which persuade us of 
 the emptiness of human pursuits, and speak of peril and death. 
 
 Castel- nuovo, from which there is a fine view of Vesuvius, 
 is a favourite promenade of the Neapolitans, who walk there 
 for the sake of enjoying the pure air, and the odours of the 
 flowers with which the valleys are covered ; they are wafted 
 by the land-breeze very regularly, which every evening 
 sweetens and refreshes the streets of Naples, which are parched 
 by the heat of the sun — it re-animates the over-fatigued frames 
 of the inhabitants, communicate fresh vivacity to the spirits, 
 and gives birth to festivities and pleasures which stretch far 
 into the night. 
 
 The view of Naples from the sea has been compared to that 
 of Constantinople, and it is said these two cities form the most 
 beautiful pictures of the kind in the world ; but Naples is in- 
 finitely more picturesque, and it o\Ves this advantage to the 
 disposition of the ground, which, by its winding and abrupt 
 jines, displays the edifices of the city better, towering above 
 each other, and yet gives the masses sufficiently detached and 
 distinct, while the borders of the Bosphorus, in general level 
 or rounded into hills, present lines of great length without 
 variety of form, and without contrast of effect. 
 
 In arriving in the Gulf of Naples, leaving the isles of Ischia 
 and Capree, which seem like advanced guards, the most beauti- 
 ful pictures break upon the sight; on the left the steep rocks 
 of Procita stretch from Cape Misene, behind which the Gulf of 
 Pouzzuole is seen, overshadowed by Monte Barbaro. — As the 
 gazer approaches, the interest is concentrated, and his eye 
 takes in the prospect between Pausilypo and Mount Vesuvius; 
 Naples occupies the centre, and its edifices rise in groups 
 behind Santa Elma, the Acropolis of the ancient Parthenope. 
 
 To enjoy this view an hour should be chosen favourable to 
 picturesque effect ; the traveller should enter his boat towards 
 the close of day — the sun is setting behind the tomb of 
 Virgil, surrounding it with his resplendent rays ; not yet con- 
 cealed behind the point of Pausilypo, he still sheds his lights 
 on the remains of antiquity, which lie dispersed on the shores 
 of Pouzzuole, and be at last plunges himself into the sea 
 between the promontoiy of Misene and the isle of Procita, 
 though he still gilds behind us the rocky cliifs of Anacapri. 
 
Grotto of Paiisilypo. $-19 
 
 The evening deepens, and the clear azure of the sky is painted 
 with the colours of the rose and the violet, and then with a 
 grey silvery tint, the soft shadowing of the mantle of night, 
 through which even now a few trembling stars are visible — 
 the breeze dies, the waves grow tranquil, the sea becomes 
 smooth and transparent ; and the star of Venus, reflected in 
 the waters, shines like a diamond swimming on their surface, 
 while the voices of the sailors rise upon the air singing their 
 evening hymn. 
 
 After having tasted all the sweets of the deepest calm, and en- 
 joyed the most sublime beauties of Nature, the noise and bustle 
 of the city was more than I could bear, and I hastened to repose. 
 
 Although it is late in the year the weather is beautiful, and 
 the atmosphere is as pure as in any of our summer days ; the 
 plains are still green ; there is no season more favourable than 
 this for visiting the delicious banks of Pouzzuole. I set off with 
 my friend in a calesso, a vehicle drawn by one horse, and we 
 traversed the populous streets of the city, dashing over the 
 pavement, and piercing the crowd with the speed of light, and 
 grazing and crossing other carriages, which flew as quickly, 
 yet without any other injury than the anxiety occasioned by 
 the rapidity of our course ; when we arrived on the quay of 
 Cliiaya, our horse redoubled his speed, and in a moment we 
 reached the grotto of Pausilypo. 
 
 At sun-set in this place, but only at this period of the year, 
 a very picturesque effect may be observed ; the horizontal 
 beams grazing the side of the grotto, penetrate into the 
 cavity, and illuminate all the length of it ; and when you pass 
 at this moment, the particles of dust always in motion, have 
 all the appearance of a stream of flame, with which the pas- 
 sengers are dazzled, and almost suffocated, and immersed in 
 which they seem only like transparent shadows. 
 
 On leaving the grotto we drove to a village called Fuori- 
 Grotta, and then through a country where the trees were 
 twined together by festoons of vines ; after that we entered a 
 long avenue of poplars, leaving Cape Pausilypo on the left, 
 and on the right the Vomero covered with beautiful villages 
 and seats, overtopped by a delicious hermitage, from which all 
 the Campania J'elice is seen, and even a part of the Roman 
 states. The sea, with all its isles, lay before us ; the road is 
 cut amongst the rocks, and a mimerous body of galley slaves 
 was employed in repairing it. The miserable lot of these 
 wretches causes many melancholy reflexions, and casts ovei 
 the laughing landscapes a shade which tarnishes its beauty. 
 
 The history of Pouzzuoli is well known ; celebrated in the 
 time of the Romans for the unbridled luxury and voluptuous- 
 
iO Castellan's Traveh in Italy, 
 
 ness of its inhabitants; it was destroyed by an earthquake. 
 The declivity of the hill, at the foot of which the modern city 
 is built, is covered with the ruins of ancient edifices and 
 temples j that of Jupiter Serapis is alone distinguishable by 
 its form. The foundations exist entire ; three columns are still 
 standing, and the fragments of the others lie scattered about; 
 this temple was magnificent, though of small proportions and 
 of a circular form. 
 
 The three columns present a singular phenomenon, which 
 has never been explained in a satisfactoiy manner ; these co- 
 lumns, and many of the others which have been overthrown, are 
 perforated nearly all at the same height in the form of a ring, 
 by a little marine worm (the mitylus lithophagtis) . Some 
 people pretend that this is a proof that at some period the 
 waters of the sea have flowed much above their present level, 
 and that they have left these traces on the shores of Pouzzuole ; 
 but this assertion, though supported by many clever men, 
 seems by no means satisfactory ; for how can it be supported, 
 that an inundation, which must have covered a part of Europe, 
 and have lasted long enough to have allowed these worms to 
 pierce the marble, lias left no trace in history, and that 
 there are no marks of its remaining but on the coast of Pouz- 
 zuole ? The real cause probably is, that these columns have 
 been all cut from the same quarry, which has contained a bed 
 of marine petrifactions, softer than the base of marble, which, 
 being decomposed, have left the cavities with which the cohmin 
 is pierced. 
 
 On ascending the hill we meet with subten'aneous remains 
 bordering the road, belonging to some ruins which they call the 
 Temple of Neptune ; a little higher there are some remains of 
 a Temple of Diana, the ruins of an ancient v.ay, and an 
 aqueduct, of M'hich some portions are well preserved. The 
 last object is an amphitheatre, the seats of which, no longer 
 Tisible, are entirely covered Avith little gardens. On leaving 
 the amphitheatre our guide conducted us to the Via Campana, 
 an ancient consular road, which forms a continuation of the 
 Via Appia ; it is bordered with tombs constmcted by the an- 
 cient inhabitants of Pouzzuole ; the sepulchral chambers are 
 varied in their forms, but are built in a good style ; they are 
 all built of brick covered with stucco, or with cement, on 
 which are still distinguishable the remains of paintings of ex- 
 quisite taste. If these tombs have been violated, it is owing to 
 the shameless curiosity of modern times, when the sacred 
 asylums have been overthrown in search of vases containing 
 only tears, or some few pieces of gold mixed with cinders ! 
 
 Continuing to ascend, the traveller arrives at a sort of inclo- 
 
vrvTc'Liay:!: 
 
 TOM IS O.P VliRCIL. 
 
Tomb of Virgil, 21 
 
 sure, which is clearly the crater of an ancient volcano : it is the 
 Solfatara. The mouth of the crater is immense: surrounded 
 by arid rocks, the centre is crowned with a wood of youn^ 
 chesnut- trees; a winding pathway, overshadowed by their 
 foliage, conducts us to the alum mines and to the Solfatara. 
 On the way our guide related to us some curious facts respect- 
 ing this place. Thus, if you dig to the depth of one foot the 
 stones which lie there are too hot to be held in the hand • if 
 you stamp violently on the ground it returns a sound which 
 seems to indicate the existence of great cavities. 
 
 But the most extraordinary appearance is that of the columns 
 of smoke which rise from the crevices of the ground, covering 
 it with crystallizations of every colour. To catch the full effect 
 of this spectacle it is necessary to stand on the side from which 
 the wind blows, or it is still better to wait till the atmosphere is 
 calm. The vapour then rises in thick twisted columns of 
 brilliant whiteness ; they whirl around, enlarging as they 
 ascend, and at last they seem to dissolve into air, leaving no 
 trace in the azure sky. An attempt was made to establish an 
 alum manufactory where these vapours issue most abundantly, 
 but the fevers which attacked the workmen caused it to be re- 
 linquished. 
 
 In descending the steep sides of the crater, by a very difficult 
 path we visited the fountain of Pischiarelli, which appears to 
 takes its course from the furnace of Solfatara. The waters 
 possess strong medicinal properties. Tired with our journey, 
 we stood in need of repose, of freshness, and of shade, and we 
 found them all on the borders of the limpid lake of Agnano, 
 where we enjoyed a rural repast. 
 
 As we ascended a hill an ancient edifice, covered with ver- 
 dure and crowned with laurel, met our view. The following 
 inscription was traced upon the rock : 
 
 QUM CINERIS TUMULO H^C VESTIGIA ? CONDITUR GLIM 
 ILLE HIG, QUI CECINIT PASCUA, RURA, DUCES. 
 
 It was the tomb of Virgil! Time has shewn less respect to this 
 last asylum of the illustrious dead, than to his unperishing 
 glory : the monument is in ruins, and the interior is empty. 
 [See Plate 11.) 
 
 The memory of great names adds beauty to the most deso- 
 late scene. I was now surrounded by objects, which to the 
 most picturesque charms, added the interest of having been 
 described by Homer and by Virgil. There, Avernus, the 
 marshes of Acheron, and the grotto of the Sibyl, lay 
 stretched before me ; farther on, the city of Cumae, and the 
 perfumed hills of Falernia. At my feet was the superb Par- 
 thenope, and the sea of Misene, while my eye rested on the 
 
52 Castellan's Travels in Italy, 
 
 isles which adorned its bosom ; then turning off at Capree, 
 it rai)idly glided along the shores of Lorrente, along the Lata- 
 rian mountains, the rock of Hercules, and the ruins of Stabia, 
 Pompeii, and Herculaneum, At last it reposed on temples, ou 
 marble palaces, and all the beautiful e(hfices of the capital, 
 whose low murmurs, and light wreaths of smoke, scarcely 
 reached my elevated station. 
 
 It is said that the tomb of Virgil was constructed by the 
 orders of Augustus in the bosom of the villa which the poet 
 possessed upon the borders of Pausilypo, and where a great 
 portion of his work was composed. The younger Pliny informs 
 us that this country residence was afterwards the property of 
 Silius Italicus, who was consul after the death of Nero. He 
 was formerly the owner of the villa to which Cicero gave the 
 name of the Academy. Silius delighted to meditate in the 
 very spots where Virgil drew his inspiration, and which 
 prompted his own muse in the composition of his poem on the 
 African war. The tomb of the immortal poet was to him an 
 object of worship, and he suffered not a single day to elapse 
 without visiting it. This monument, the situation of which is 
 pointed out, in the place where it is now seen, by iElius Do- 
 natus, a grammarian of the fourth century, now presents only 
 ruins, of which the original design can hardly be conjectured. 
 It is covered with a vault constructed in opus reticulatum ; in 
 the interior are seen several niches, to which access is only 
 obtained by irregular passages opened by violence about the 
 year 1326, until which period a sarcophagus remained in the 
 tomb, supported by nine small columns of white marble, and 
 containing the ashes of the poet. These venerable relics were 
 removed by King Robert of Anjou, who was anxious for their 
 safety, and transported to Castel-nuovo, where, notwithstanding 
 the researches of Alphonso I. of Arragon, they have never 
 since been seen. In the time of Eugenius, about the year 1625, 
 the following inscription was dug up in the neighbourhood: — 
 
 " Siste Viator, quaxo ; puree, legito, hie Maro situs est.^' 
 
 On leaving the ancient heritage of Virgil, the eye enjoys a 
 prospect of the greatest richness. Pathways, winding down 
 gentle declivities, border the edges of the rocks. — They are 
 supported by enormous walls, piered with arcades, and flanked 
 by counter-forts. Houses, embosomed in gardens, rise on these 
 ramparts in the form of steps. These are again surmounted by 
 terraces, rendered impenetrable to damp by cement, and on 
 which flourish the arbutus and the vine. These aerial bowers 
 guard the habitations from the rays of the sun, and make the 
 most delightful retreats, which, catching the refreshing sea- 
 breeze, temper the heat of the atmosphere. During the 
 
Tomb of Sanazaro, 23 
 
 night, especially, the most delicious freshness is found here. 
 Many persons pass the night on these terraces under no other 
 roof than the vault of heaven, or the shade of the trees, a 
 pleasure well appreciated under the serene sky of Naples, and 
 in the warm, diy, and healthy climate of Greece. 
 
 At the foot of the mountain, on the borders of the sea, at the 
 extremity of the beautiful piers, which in this spot stretch out 
 in semi-circles, rise the church and convent of Santa Maria 
 del Parto, celebrated for the tomb of Sanazaro, the Virgil of 
 the Neapolitans. 
 
 King Frederic, who was much attached to the poet, gave 
 him this agreeable retreat, with a house Avhich he had built 
 there. Sanazaro took great delight in embelhshing the soli- 
 tude which he never afterwards quitted, and whose charms he 
 unceasingly celebrated. 
 
 We may judge of his despair, when, during the siege of 
 Naples by the French in 1528, Lautrec, having made this place 
 his head quarters, was attacked there by the Prince of Orange. 
 They fought with great fury on both sides ; at last, Lautrec 
 was defeated, but the Casino and its plantations were destroyed. 
 The poet, in grief, quitted Naples, and died soon aftenvards, 
 leaving this estate to the monks of the Holy Virgin, that they 
 might erect, on the ruins of his favourite retreat, a church, 
 which he endowed with an income of six hundred ducats, and 
 to which was given the name of Santa Maria del Parto, in re- 
 membrance of one of Sanazaro's poems, entitled, De Partu 
 Virginis. 
 
 The relations of Sanazaro carried his body to Naples, and 
 raised a magnificent tomb to him in the church of Santa Maria, 
 at the foot of the mountain where the ashes of Virgil repose, 
 and on it were inscribed the following lines, written by the 
 celebrated Cardinal Bembo : — 
 
 " Da Sacro cineri flores. Hie ille Maroni 
 " Sincerus Musa proxiraus ut tumulo.* 
 
 The Neapolitan bard wrote on the model, and indeed caught 
 many of the beauties, of his master. Like him he sung of the 
 Shepherds, and the pleasures and labours of the country ; but, 
 instead of depicting heroes, he has produced, in the poems on 
 which he rested his reputation, a most extravagant mixture of 
 Christian mysteries and mythological fables. Although his 
 Latin poetry is written with great purity, and in his Italian 
 poems, and particularly in his Arcadia, there is much delicacy 
 
 * " Fresh flowerets strew, for Sanazar lies here, 
 "In genius, as in place, to Virgil near. ' 
 = ^ J Roscoe's Leo X. v. 3, p. 389. 
 
 *"■* Acciu3 Sincerus was the academical name of sanazaro. 
 
^ Castellan's TVavehTin tialy. 
 
 and simplicity, yet it may perhaps be said, that his talent has 
 move facility than originality, more grace than vigour. In 
 short, to mingle with the poets of antiquity, he seems to have 
 resigned bis rank amongst the poets of modern times. 
 
 The tomb of Sanazaro has been the subject of much lively 
 discussion amongst the historians of the arts ; and, as it is well 
 designed and executed, the glory of it is attributed to several 
 diferent artists. Some assign it to Gio-Angelo Poggibonsi, a 
 'i'uscan ; others to Girolamo Santacroce, a Neapolitan. 
 
 The executors of the poet, and the brothers of the conv'ent 
 of Margellina, formed themselves into two parties, when the 
 monument was to be erected. The former declared themselves 
 in favour of the design modelled by Santacroce ; the monks 
 wished Poggibonsi, who was one of their order, to undertake 
 the whole work. At last they came to an arrangement, and 
 each of the artists had a portion of the work assigned to him. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 Description of Pompeii. 
 
 1 CANNOT quit this part of Italy without giving some account 
 of the Museum of Portici, which contains a very complete col- 
 lection of antiquities, discovered in the bosom of the earth, 
 still perfect, and in the vei*y situation in which they were sur- 
 prized by the dreadful scourge which at the same lime over- 
 whelmed the cities of Herculaneum, Pompeii, and Stabia. 
 (See plate III.) 
 
 Portici is a countiy residence of the King of Naples, who 
 frequently visits it with his court. This palace, which com- 
 mands a magnificent view of the sea is surrounded by beautiful 
 gardens, planted on the base of Mount Vesuvius. It was built 
 in the year 1738, by Charles of Bourbon, who also founded the 
 Museum. This immense collection consists of a vast number 
 of bronze and marble statues, of pictures, and of vases of gold, 
 of silver, and of earthen-ware still more precious. On one side 
 are seen articles of fiu-niture elegantly designed, such as tables, 
 curule chairs, tripods, lamps and candelabra; on the other, 
 instruments of agriculture, of chimrgery, of music, and kitchen 
 utensils. In another quarter are arms offensive and defensive, 
 jewels and other appendages of the toilette; intaglios, cameos, 
 and other precious stones set in rings, in pins, and bracelets. 
 We find there also colours for painting, eggs, cheese, walnuts. 
 
r,n';vri.m:N':V. 
 
 Toeira'Eiii. 
 
Curiosities of Pompeii. 25 
 
 and leguminous vegetables, the forms of which are still distin- 
 guishable. There are even some remains of \Aine and oil. 
 One of the greatest curiosities is an entire library, which once 
 was the delight of some scholar of the Augustan age, and which 
 creates despair in our owni ; for all the rolls of Papyrus have 
 been either reduced to a cinder or destroyed by damp. The 
 latter fall into dust the moment they are touched, and the others 
 only owe their superior preservation to the heat which has cal- 
 cined them. With skill and industiy, it is even possible to 
 unfold them, and to put them into a condition to be read and 
 transcribed. The famous Padre Antonio Piaggi, the inventor 
 of the process, has as yet unfolded only a very small number. 
 The slowness of his operations, and, aljove all, the disappear- 
 ance of a great part of these precious manuscripts, are causes 
 of just complaint. 
 
 It was in the first age of the Christian era, and in the reign 
 of Titus, when that violent eruption of the volcano occurred 
 which destroyed several cities, and filled all Italy with con- 
 sternation. To the ruin which seemed to have extinguished 
 them for ever, Herculaneum, Stabia, and Pompeii, are indebted, 
 for their miraculous preservation and their present celebrity. 
 Herculaneum and Pompeii stood near each other, but the his- 
 tory of the latter is but little known ; it was a sea-port town, 
 situated about five miles distant from the crater of Vesuvius, 
 at the mouth of the wSarno. Its harbour was common to the 
 inhabitants of Nola, of Nocera, and of Accra, but the eruption 
 of the volcano changed its site, or, rather, that of the 
 river, which now flows several leagues distant from its 
 former bed. The lava and the ashes filled up the port, and 
 created a new shore, which encroached to a great extent upon 
 the sea. 
 
 Pompeii had been much injured by the earthquake, in the 
 year 63, and it was entirely buried by the eruption of 79, — the 
 first-mentioned in history, and fatally celebrated for the great 
 number of cities which it destroyed, for the multitude of its 
 victims, and for the death of Pliny. Herculaneum, much 
 nearer the volcano, was overwhelmed by a hard and compact 
 substance, which it has been necessary to dig out with infinite 
 labour, in order to disengage the monuments. This substance, 
 in its fluid state, had penetrated into the remotest recesses, 
 and had filled them as if with molten lead; whilst Pompeii had 
 only disappeared under a shewer of loose ashes. These it was 
 easy to remove, since they only rose a few inches above the 
 edifices. This shower of stones and burning matter extended 
 as far as Castello a Mare, the ancient Stabia, and covered the 
 countiy for thirty miles round, but with an intensity decreasing 
 Voyages and Travels, No. 5, Vol. III. E 
 
tE^ Caitglhn's Travels in Italy. 
 
 in proportion to its distance. At Pompeii there fell stones 
 -weighing as much as eight pounds, and at Stabia not more 
 than an ounce. 
 
 In 1689, on turning up the earth in the neighbourhood of 
 Vesuvius about a mile from the sea, some antique inscriptions 
 were fcimd, making mention of the city of Pompeii, which was 
 not suspected to have existed on that spot, and this discovery 
 produced no further consequences. However, in 1713, the 
 Prince D'Elbeuf, a general officer in the Austrian service, 
 built a country house, at Portici, a beautiful spot, but almost 
 deserted. Having occasion for some blocks of marble, he ^A'as 
 informed that an inhabitant of the village, in sinking a well, 
 had discovered a large quantity. The prince purchased the 
 land; and his workmen, having discovered a vault, penetrated 
 into it, and found several fine fragments of marble statuary. 
 Encouraged by this circumstance, tlie prince redoubled his 
 researches, which produced so many remarkable acquisitions, 
 that the jealousy of the Neapolitan government induced it to 
 assume to itself the direction of the works. At last, at the 
 depth of 70 feet there was discovered an entire city — the ancient 
 Herculaneum, with its temples, its theatres, its private houses, 
 replete with marble and bronze statues, with pictures, and with 
 furniture; and, in a word, with eveiy thing which the unfore- 
 seen and sudden catastrophe had allowed no time to remove. 
 
 It seemed impossible to restore Herculaneum to the light of 
 day, because the earth -vvhich covers them nov,- supports the 
 cities of Portici and Castello a Mare ; but, the true site of Pom- 
 peii having been fortunately discovered under land little 
 adapted to cultivation, it was easy to obtain possession of it, 
 and it was determined to disengage that city from the mass of 
 ashes which concealed it. 
 
 The first excavation, made in 17'^>5, discovered by a singular 
 and fortunate chance, the road which led to the gate of the 
 city. It has three passages: that in the middle for carriages; 
 and the two others, which are much narrower, for foot passen- 
 gers. The road, paved with irregular blacks of lava, and lined 
 M'ith causeways, runs into the interior of the city, not in a 
 direct line, but in a winding course, and varying considerably 
 in breadth. Before entering the city, we see the tombs, ac- 
 cording to the custom of the ancients, on each side of the 
 road ; and, at a little distance, a country house, having a court 
 ornamented with columns ; it is raised only a single story from 
 the ground, beneath the level of which are found dining apart^ 
 ments, and other rooms, which were used as cellars, or a» 
 retreats from the heat of the weather. 
 
 The houses of the ancients had not, in general, like ours, a 
 
Build'mgs of Pompeii. 27 
 
 nliiltitude of stories, rising- one above another; they were 
 unacquainted with those long suites of apartments which 
 luxury and wealth have since introduced. The rooms are small, 
 without any communication between themselves, and often only 
 lighted by the door. They all opened into a portico, something 
 similar to the cloisters of a convent, which surrounded a small 
 court where the air was refreshed by a little fountain. The 
 upper story was lighted by a few narrow windows; those 
 which opened on the street were situated like the windows of 
 the Turks, about six feet from the ground, and w^ere closed by 
 leaves of talc, by plates of alabaster, and sometimes by little 
 squares of unpolished glass ; this construction prevented the 
 inhabitants from seeing what passed out of doors, and also pro- 
 tected them from the impertinent inspection of others. Timber 
 wood was I'arely used in the construction of these houses, and 
 its place was supplied by arches ; and, in general, the roofs 
 terminated in terraces. The floors were inlaid with Mosaic 
 work, and the external walls were covered with paintings, 
 worked on beautiful stucco. 
 
 In visiting Pompeii, a striking resemblance is found between 
 its buildings and those of the Levant, and particularly of the 
 modern Greeks. We find there those low seats running round 
 the apartments, on which the inhabitants, no doubt, reposed, 
 as in Turkey, on cushions, carpets, and pillows. These seats 
 are raised about a foot from the floor, which prove pretty 
 clearly that the ancients sat in the oriental mode, a fact which 
 is further supported by the seats in the theatres. We also find 
 in the Levant, marble pavements, Mosaic works, paintings on 
 the walls, fountains in the courts, and even in the interior 
 apartments, Avindows removed from sight; rooms lighted only 
 by the door opening into covered galleries supported by 
 columns. The vaj)our-baths of the orientals; their painted, 
 gilt, and sculptured tombs ; their sepulchral edifices, situated 
 at the gates of the city, at the side of the high roads, and sur- 
 rounded with public walks; the same arrangement of the 
 shops ; the foot-paths raised in front of the houses, and along 
 the roads : all these customs of the Levant are founded on 
 antique usages. The resemblance is such, that these ruins 
 appeared to me the remains of a Turkish city, with the ex- 
 ception of the architectural style of the public buildings ; and 
 if it had been inhabited by Orientals, I should have conceived 
 it to have been built by them. In fact, a tolerably correct idea 
 of the manners of the Romans may be formed amongst the 
 Turks; while many vestiges of their arts are to be found in 
 the Museum of Portici. 
 
 Amongst the buildings of Portici, one obsen-ation struck m^ 
 
 E 2 
 
23 ' Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 with astonishment, — the extraordinary diminutiveness of their' 
 proportions. The houses, the streets, the squares, of this city, 
 seem to have been constructed for a race of pigmies. The 
 principal street is only twelve feet v/ide ; the others eight or 
 ten. The lateral gates of the city are only four feet wide ; 
 some rooms are only six feet square. The walls of the town 
 are only twenty-five or thirty feet in height, and the steps which 
 lead to the ramparts will not admit two persons abreast. 
 
 This circumstance presents a striking contrast with the 
 other antiquities of Italy, and particularly of Sicily; where we 
 find colossal temples, with columns so enormous that a man 
 can readily stand in one of their flutings, which are not less 
 than eighteen inches wide. How can we reconcile the pro- 
 portions of this minute city with the accounts of historians, 
 which are calculated to aggrandize the works, and even the 
 personal stature of the ancients ? 
 
 Even in Rome itself, notwithstanding its immense extent^ 
 the common citizens occupied but little space. The houses of 
 individuals must have been as confined as those of Pompeii, if 
 we take into consideration, that half of the city was occupied 
 by the immense palaces of the emperors, which alone were 
 equal to small cities; by the circuses, the theatres, and an 
 immense number of temples, chapels, baths, and gardens. It 
 is true, that the Roman people spent the day in the open air, 
 or in the public establishments, and therefore only stood in 
 need of a small habitation to shelter them during the night. 
 
 It presents, in fact, a singular spectacle, when we behold 
 this city, of so remote an origin, and discover in it the traces 
 of those antique manners which the classical authors can only 
 imperfectly display. The structures of the town, though some- 
 what injured in the higher stories, were, Avhen discovered, 
 perfect in other respects. The statues, the Mosaics, and even 
 the pictures, preserved all their freshness; every article of fin*- 
 liiture, every household utensil, remained in the spot which 
 they had occupied sixteen centuries before; bread, wheat, 
 fruits, although dried up, or slightly burnt, might still be 
 recognised; and, above all, several bodies of the inhabitants 
 were discovered in the attitudes and dress in which they had 
 been surprized by death : some in the act of flying with their 
 most precious jewels, or concealed in remote retreats ; and 
 others surprized at table, or stifled in the bath. 
 
Terracina: 29 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 Departure from Naples — Terracina — Temple of Jupiter Anxuris 
 — Description of the Pontine Marshes — Arrival at Rome — First 
 View of that City — Visit to Tivoli — Celebrated Men — Temple 
 of the Sibyl — Scenery around Tivoli — Grotto of ISeptune 
 — Dreadful accident. 
 
 Notwithstanding my desire to depart, I felt consider- 
 able pain on leaving Naples ; my former companion was com- 
 pelled to reside some time longer in that city, and my new 
 fellow-traveller did not seem inclined to waste his thouglits in 
 melancholy meditations. He was a young Roman who had 
 been finishing his education at Naples, and who was impatient 
 to return to his family to display the extent of his acquisitions. 
 His memory certainly was well stored with an abundance of 
 quotations and anecdotes which rendered his conversation veiy 
 interesting. As we passed Gaeta he mentioned the Cecubian 
 wines celebrated by Horace; at Capua he gave us the history 
 of its destructive pleasures ; here was Formianum, the favourite 
 retreat of Cicero, and at this turn in the road he was perfi- 
 diously assassinated. In spite of my friend's entertaining ex- 
 ertions, I could not prevent myself from falling to sleep : my 
 pitiless companion then raised his voice that he might converse 
 with the postillion, but receiving no reply he consoled himself 
 with singing a canzonetta. He wakened me to join in the 
 chorus, in which our post-boy sung the base. 
 
 The appearance of the rocks of Terracina excited my curiosity 
 and the loquacity of my companion. " It is," said he, " the 
 Anxur of the ancients, the capital of the Volsci :" and he then 
 related its ancient history. From the summit of Mount aan- 
 Angelo, and near the monastry of that name, are the ruins of 
 some vast edifices attributed to Theodoric. After draining the 
 Pontine marshes, and building Terracina, the sovereign of the 
 Goths, stmck with the beauty of the prospect, from these 
 heights, built a magnificent palace here, and surrounded the 
 city with walls and strong towers, many of which are still 
 visible ; but death surprised him ere he had completed his 
 splendid undertaking. The remains also of a temple of Jupiter 
 
30 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 Anxuris are seen here. Under the ruins there is an excavatiori 
 opening towards the south. It is the work of nature, if we may- 
 judge from the stalactites which hang from the vaulted roof 
 and cover the walls. On penetrating into the inner cavities 
 of this grotto it is said the sound of winds and the dashing of 
 waves is heard. It is thought that this cavern served as a retreat 
 to some of the primitive Christians, who fled from persecution, 
 to practice in this solitude their mysterious ceremonies. But 
 the sulphureous waters, which rush forth from many parts of 
 the rock, render it probable that it was formerly used as a bath ; 
 and some remains, such as were used as ornaments in the halls 
 of baths being found here, strengthen this conjecture. 
 
 The pyramidal rock of Terracina, called Pesculo, or Pescio 
 Montano, was formerly crowned with a strong fortress, which 
 commanded the passage to Campania, and could have defended 
 it against a numerous army. The rock is isolated on three 
 sides, and is joined to the mountain by its base. It seems 
 worked with the chissel, like a wall, to the height of upwards 
 of two hundred feet. 
 
 After visiting all the curiosities of Terracina, I resolved to 
 examine the famous Pontine marshes which extend nearly to 
 the gates of that city. I took a guide, and our route lay over 
 the summits of the mountains by the ancient road of Piperno, 
 then descending into the marshes, traveising them sometimes 
 in asandalo, a flat and very light sort of boat, and sometimes 
 meeting with dry and solid ground. My companion, who was 
 to meet me at Cisterna the following day, filled my pockets 
 with garlic, and furnished me with a flask of a certain liquor 
 to defend me from the influence of the aria cattiva. 
 
 The Pontine marshes occupy a plain of twenty miles in 
 length and ten miles in breadth, bordered on one side by the 
 Appennines, and on the other by a chain of hills which run 
 from Mount Circello, and separate the marshes into many little 
 lakes, which appear to be formed by the waters of the sea. 
 Between Mount Circello and Terracina the stagnant waters 
 extend as far as the sea, into which the superfluous waters pour ■ 
 themselves. The portion of the Roman territoiy which the'l 
 marshes occupy, was formerly so fertile that it was called'^* 
 Feronia, from a temple of that goddess, the patroness of vegeta- . 
 tion. In fact, in the times of the Romans, the ager Pontimis'^ 
 was considered as the granary of Rome, and it was covered 
 with towns and splendid edifices. Atticus, Mecaenas, and even 
 Augustus retired hither to enjoy the delightful picture of 
 rural pleasures and labours. The hills were crowned with 
 olive tree', and their sides blushed with the clusters of the 
 vine_, while the plains were intersected with streams and pond»s. 
 
The Pontine Marshei. ^ ' St 
 
 Appius Claudius, when he was constructing the famous road 
 whicli bears his name, and wliich passed over these marshes, 
 was the first wlio raised the banks and cleansed this portion of 
 the country overflowed Avith the unchecked streams. Under 
 the consulate of Cornelius Cethegus the draining- was con- 
 tinued, but it was not finally completed till the time of Augus- 
 tus. This tract of land retained its salubrity for more than four 
 centuries, till the incursion of the Barbarians, and the removal 
 of the emperors. 
 
 Under Theodoric it was again proposed to drain it, but, at the 
 end of the fifth century, the plague, famine, and, above all, the 
 attacks of the Barbarians, caused the enterprize to be aban- 
 doned. The writers of this age speak with horror of the Pon- 
 tine marshes. When the Goths were expelled from Italy the 
 popes turned their attention to this undertaking ; but Boniface 
 VIII. was the first who seriously applied himself to this object. 
 When the apostolic chair was transferred to Avignon these 
 labours languished. They were again attempted by some of 
 the Pontiffs, but without success. 
 
 It is to Pius VI. that the present improved state of these 
 marshes is owing; who, after having pursued a well-advised 
 plan, of which the experience of many years has proved the 
 success, has changed the appearance, and even the nature of 
 the place lately so frightful, and converted it into one vast 
 garden. It is with pleasure no longer mingled with fear that 
 the traveller proceeds through a magnificent avenue, straight, 
 well-paved, and shaded with beautiful trees, and bordered by 
 canals, the evaporations from which are said to be no longer 
 noxious, serving merely to give freshness to the atmosphere. 
 
 Attempts are making to lead back the inhabitants to this 
 deserted spot. Along the road four post-houses are built ; 
 and inns, granaries, mills, and bakehouses. There arc also 
 several houses built for the workmen and the superintendants. 
 In addition to these a convent and a handsome church are 
 found there. The lands have been divided, and some parts let 
 on long leases. Villages will shortly rise, and then this plain, 
 lately so unhealthy, will form once more the granary of Rome 
 and the rest of Italy. 
 
 I rejoined my companion at Cisterna, and it was dark ere 
 we reached the gates of Rome: and, on the following morning, 
 my eyes opened on the ancient capital of the world. From 
 my windows I could see innumerable palaces and cui)olas of 
 marble, and the summit of Trajan's column. I am absolutely 
 distracted ! I admire ! I compare ! I study ! — One object attracts 
 in§^.and another calls off my attention; and 1 seem to wish in 
 
32 Castellan's Travels in Italy ^ 
 
 one day to amass recollections to serve me the remainder of 
 
 my life. 
 
 What a scene for an artist ! The borders of the Tiber, the 
 hills of the city, the shape of its walls, the immense heaps of 
 ruins, the admirable variety of the gardens, which make you 
 think you are wandering- in the country when you are 
 surrounded by the walls, all furnish the painter with studies 
 and picturesque subjects, and with infinite somxes of renewed 
 delight. There is not a single bye-way which does not offer him 
 an opportunity of exercising his pencil. Here the open gate 
 of a house of ordinary pretensions displays at the bottom of 
 the court a little fountain surmounted with some fragments of 
 ancient sculpture, shaded by jasmine bowers ; there a flight 
 of stairs open to the air, leads to the summit of a terrace 
 crowned with an arbour and bordered with vases of flowers, 
 Avhich the attentive hand of a young girl nurtures and cul- 
 tivates : farther on the fragments of an aqueduct serve as a 
 frame to the rich perspective. On one side a rude cabin, 
 inhabited by an hermit, stands against an ancient palace of 
 marble, of which there is nothing left but the front of a hollow 
 wall, the unequal summit of which is decked with wall- 
 flowers. Everywhere the new city rises on the ruins of the 
 ancient kingdom of the Caesars, while the magnificent marbles 
 which form the modern tombs were fashioned for the city of 
 Augustus or of Adrian. 
 
 It is this fortuitous mixture of distinct elements which gives 
 Rome such charms ; — it is the ideas which rise on surveying 
 them, and the deep train of feeling which they occasion, that 
 render this place so attractive in the eyes of the artist, and 
 make him regret that he cannot consecrate his life to behold- 
 ing it. 
 
 1 pass my time in wandering about without design or deter- 
 minate object; and if I have not yet seen the museums and the 
 more precious monuments of art, at least I have caught the 
 picturesque and moral character of Rome. I have become 
 familiar with the inhabitants, and with the topography of their 
 city. My portfolio is full of sketches, and my memory of 
 delightful recollections. 
 
 I resolved to visit Tivoli before winter made any further ad- 
 vances. Leaving Rome by the gate of San-Lorenzo, a little 
 less than a mile off, we passed the church of the same name, 
 one of the most ancient of the Christian edifices. Its character 
 is simple and imposing. Constantine is generally regarded as 
 the founder, but it has been successively restored by Sixtus III. 
 and several of the succeeding Pontiffs. Many of the architec- 
 
rovfVoLjn.N^v. 
 
 COTTAGE OI" THE SIIEJPHEKBS OF I^A fUGILlA. 
 
 TEMPLES Ol' TESTA a:NB OF THK SI BYE, 
 
Arrival at Tivoli. 33 
 
 tural parts have been borrowed from still more ancient build- 
 ings. I passed over the Tiburtine road, bordered with the 
 relics of innumerable tombs and temples. In the midst of 
 these, quantities of cinerary urns are perpetually discovered, 
 and inscriptions and other curious remains. Here stands the 
 tomb of the haughty Pallas, the freed man of Claudius. Farther 
 on lies the Campo Verano, beneath which are catacombs filled 
 with the bones of Christian martyrs. Passing over a canal of 
 the Solfatara I reached some baths called the Baths of the 
 Queen ; they are probably the remains of a villa belonging to 
 Regulus, a famous jurisconsult, mentioned by Pliny and Martial, 
 I then arrived at the bridge of Lucano, which is terminated 
 by the monument of the Plautian family, who possessed a 
 superb villa at this spot : the tomb is of a circular form, resem- 
 bling that of Csecilia Metella. Constructed principally of tra- 
 vertine stone, it was faced with marble and ornamented with 
 columns and statues. The decline of day made me hasten 
 forwards to Tivoli. 
 
 Who can sleep the first night of their arrival at Tivoli ? My 
 delightful bed-chamber was close to the temple of the Sybil, or 
 rather of Vesta, and in sight of a magnificent cascade. The 
 stream dashes itself down, disappears, and separates into a 
 thousand little currents in the subterraneous passages which 
 pierce the mountain upon which this part of the city is built. 
 (See Plate V.) 
 
 The fall of the waters produces a deafening sound, sometimes 
 imitating the noise of thunder, according as the sound strikes 
 directly on the ear, or is dispersed by the wind. Between me 
 and the cascade lay the bridge, the church, and the town; 
 and the effect of the moonlight on the river which flowed round 
 the town was most beautiful. 
 
 How different was the scene when I beheld it in the morn- 
 ing, yet equally delightful ! The heavens were cloudless, and 
 the dashing of the cascade seemed softened, and it was mingled 
 with sounds which told of the awakening of nature and of 
 man. The chirping of swallows, the turning of mills, the noise 
 f the horses' hoofs as they passed the bridge, the voices of the 
 peasants, cloathed in their best habits and hastening to church, 
 the sound of the bells floating on the air, all announced a day 
 of festival. It was indeed so to me to find myself at Tivoli ! 
 Nothing is pleasanter here than the perpetual chiming of the 
 bells, so disagreeable in other places : it resembles in Italy a 
 sort of aerial music. So well do this people, whose taste is so 
 delicate in all the arts, know how to harmonize and time their 
 sounds, and to produce intonations as correct as those with 
 which nature has inspired their songs. 
 
 Voyages and Travels, iVo. 5, Vol. III. F 
 
54 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 The ruins of the temple next drew my attention ; situated, 
 like an eagle's nest, on the pinnacle of hollow rocks, and sur- 
 r jiinded by precipices down which the river dashes, this edifice 
 of a circular form, is built in a style of architecture singular, 
 rich, and elegant : of the eighteen Corinthian columns which 
 surrounded it in the form of a detached peristyle, only ten now 
 remain. The light must have entered by the door or through 
 an opening in the roof, for the windows appear less ancient 
 than the primitive building, the origin of which is unknown. 
 
 During the Augustan age the environs of Tivoli were the 
 retreat of a crowd of celebrated men, — Virgil, Horace, Proper- 
 tius, Varro, and lastly Mecaenas, the protector of letters, of 
 arts, and of ail those who cultivated such pursuits with suc- 
 cess, fixed their residences on the borders of the Anio. Mecae- 
 nas built at Tibur a villa, or rather a city, the immense circuit 
 of which is still filled with an infinite variety of beautiful 
 edifices which almost seem destined for immortality. This 
 wise Roman fiying the noisy pleasures of the capital preferred 
 the charms of a private life to the vanity of grandeur; and re- 
 jected the first offices of the state, offered to him by the most 
 powerful ruler on earth, who was also his most intimate friend. 
 In his Tiburtine villa Augustus frequently visited him ; and in 
 the liouse of Maecenas the emperor sought consolation under 
 the afflictions of sickness. 
 
 Tucca and Varus, both poets and courtiers of Augustus, the 
 intimate companions of Mecaenas, were the persons who at the 
 recommendation of Virgil introduced Horace to the friendship 
 of their patron. The good offices of the latter were extremely 
 important to the illustrious poet, who had embraced the party 
 of Brutus and Cassius, for which offence his new protector pro- 
 cured him the pardon of his sovereign. 
 
 Horace made use of his favour with these great men to re- 
 establish his fortunes ; and Mecaenas gave him a small villa, 
 built on the banks of the Anio. In this retreat, in the neigh- 
 bourhoodc " ^^at of Catullus, freed from all his cares and in 
 the enjoynvcixt of a voluptuous repose, he composed his im- 
 mortal poems, and celebrated the praises of his benefactors. 
 
 The prosperity of Tivoli decreased at the death of those 
 illustrious persons who had carried glory and pleasure into this 
 fortunate corner of the earth. Quintillius died the first, and 
 the prince of lyric poets wept over his death. Soon afterwards 
 Virgil, seeing his end approaching, appointed Augustus, 
 Mecaenas, and some of his other friends, his heirs, command- 
 ing them to commit his divine poem to the flames ! Horace, 
 as he seemed to have wished, preceded his protector to the 
 tomb. Augustus became the possessor of the villa of Mecaenas 
 
Grotto of Neptune. 35 
 
 and passed there the remainder of his days. In the temple of 
 Hercules, which was in the neighbourhood of this habitation 
 he administered justice to his subjects. 
 
 The inhabitants of Tivoli deplored the death of a sovereio-n 
 whose almost constant presence had been the means of carryini?- 
 life, and prosperity, and riches into their city. They delighted 
 to recal the memory of this prince by inscriptions on monu- 
 mental stones; and they raised to Livia, his wife, a statue in the 
 forum of Hercules. 
 
 I now laid a plan for disposing of my time during my re- 
 sidence at Tivoli, and I resolved on several excursions, refusing 
 however, the company of a guide. The Cicerone disenchanted 
 me at Naples, audi dismissed them that I might not be stunned 
 by their impertinent babble, and that I might receive answers 
 only when I put questions. I was just on the point of com- 
 mencing my first excursion when some large drops of rain fell 
 which were followed up by a long succession of showers! 
 When it rains here it is in torrents. 
 
 The Tramontana has chased away the showers, and the dry 
 leaves rustle as it blows. The ground is firm again, and the 
 vapours which obscured the atmosphere have disappeared and 
 I can now set out on my first excursion. I hastened to the 
 gate of San-Angelo through old houses built on the ruins of 
 the magnificent villa of Manlius Vopiscus. There I beheld the 
 road of the Cascatelles, a delightful route running along the 
 crown of a hill, which extends in theshape of an amphitheatre : I 
 perceived through the olives planted on the declivity, the Anio 
 which winds along and dashes itself into its deep and flintv bed. 
 On the other side rise immense rocks, and the temple of Vesta* 
 that of the Sibyl, and a portion of the city, crown their summit. 
 The most remarkable object during my excursion was the 
 grotto of Neptune, which almost resembles the palace of that 
 divinity. Only imagine an immense rock in which the foi-ce 
 of the waters has scooped out a number of secret channels 
 through which torrents burst forth to mingle in the gulph 
 where their murmurs resound; they fill the atmosphere with 
 their spray ; and the air is agitated by the rapidity of their 
 motion. 
 
 The sound of the falling waters, repeated by the echoes, and 
 varied by the winds, produces a singular and terrible harmony, 
 in the midst of which the human voice, the sound of musical 
 instruments, and even the report of fire-arms can scarcely be 
 distinguished, and which appears to impose silence on the rest 
 of nature, that the voice of the gad of tempests may alone be 
 heard. 
 At the bottom of these precipices scarce any other creatures 
 
36 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 are seen but clouds of wild pigeons, which build their nests in 
 the crevices of the rocks. Accustomed to the roaring of the 
 waters they dash through the clouds of spray, sometimes dart- 
 ing into the depths of the grotto, and struggling with the 
 current of air which seem to whirl them along. 
 
 On returning to the city I heard confused cries, rising above 
 the voice of the elements. I quickened my steps, and at last 
 distinguished, amongst others, the voice of a woman who rent 
 the air with her cries. I saw the summit of the rocks lined 
 with a crowd of people, running, shouting, and answering 
 each other with every sign of terror and anxiety. I followed 
 to the verge of a precipice hanging over the great cascade, 
 and there beheld the disfigured body of a young man who had 
 gone out in the morning to hunt on the steep banks of the 
 river: not having re-appeared during the day, his friends, 
 anxious for his safety, sought him amongst the moist and 
 slippery rocks of Tivoli, which the hunters frequent, regardless 
 of the danger, and they had now first discovered his body, sus- 
 pended amongst the bushes which cloath the rocks of the great 
 cascade. The cry of dismay spread through the valley till it 
 reached the mother of the unfortunate victim. Fearful of the 
 truth, she ran in agony to the borders of the precipice, and, 
 hanging over it, she was only prevented by force from throw- 
 ing herself forwards. In the mean time an intrepid hunter 
 descended by means of ropes to the spot where his unfortunate 
 companion lay — a lifeless form ! Whilst they were drawing them 
 up together the friends of the miserable mother endeavoured 
 to remove her from the spot ; but the convulsive movements 
 which affected her increased to an alarming degree. They 
 then determined to bring to her the body of her son. A heart- 
 rending scene which I shall never forget ensued. After having 
 bathed the corpse with tears, and loaded it with caresses ; after 
 having attempted to warm it in her bosom, she was at last con- 
 vinced of the reality of her misery, she passionately exclaimed, 
 " He is dead ! " and fell senseless by his side. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 The House of Catullus — Of Horace — English Caricatures — 
 Temple of Tosse — Musical taste of the Italians — Description 
 of the Ruins of the Villa Adriana — Rustics playing al porco — 
 Return to Rome — Villas of Este and of Meccenas. 
 
 jtVN ancient tradition says, that on this spot stood the house of 
 Catullus. It is singular that the habitation of a poet like 
 
rov!rcim.y<;T. 
 
 CASrATEl,]L3':S. 
 
House of Catullus. 37 
 
 Catullus should have become the retreat of austerity ; but it 
 may be remarked, that we ought generally to seek for the traces 
 of the ancient villas on the scite of the convents. If there ex- 
 isted in the middle ages any vast and magnificent, but half- 
 ruined building, it was converted into a church, and its de- 
 pendant buildings became the habitations of the ministers of 
 religion. In examining the houses of Pompeii, or in reading 
 the description of an ancient villa, we perceive the most faith- 
 ful imitation of them in the modern monasteries. The courts, 
 surrounded by porticoes to walk in, and from which branch the 
 chambers without any other communication between them ; 
 the basins which adorn them, the terraces or covered galleries, 
 the oratories in the gardens, even the churcliL's with the 
 chapels often built like the halls of baths, all offer striking 
 analogies to the houses of the ancients. 
 
 It is difficult to find a situation which agrees better than this 
 with the idea which may be formed of the habitation of Ca- 
 tullus. In digging in this enclosure very beautiful pavements 
 of different coloured marbles have been found, and a column 
 on which was sculptured in has relief figures of women repre- 
 senting the muses, or the graces: Horace was the neighbour 
 of Catullus. I arrived at the dwelling of the poet by a very 
 picturesque path, shaded by olive and chesnut-trees, laurels, 
 and vines. This is, no doubt, the famous Tihnrni hiculum, 
 where, in the time of Pliny, three immense chesnut-trees were 
 seen, older even than Tiburnus who founded the city. Here 
 also rose his tomb and his temple ; for the people of Latium 
 were accustomed to reckon their founders amongst the gods, 
 and to raise altars to them. The house of Horace was not far 
 off. I perceived through the trees a little convent, built of the 
 remains of other structiu'es, in a most picturesque situation. 
 I had no further to go — I stood on the lands of the friend of 
 Mecaenas ! (See Plate IV.) 
 
 But all at once I beheld a spectacle which surprised and en- 
 chanted me, and even made me forget Horace, his house, and 
 his verses. It yv2iS, the Cascatelles ! I had already beheld with 
 a feeling amounting to solemnity this river precipitate itself 
 into its deep and rocky bed; 1 now beheld it dancing in its 
 course and burning in the rays of the sun, sometimes conceal- 
 ing itself, then re-appearing and boimding to the bottom of the 
 valley, through verdure and through flowers. {See Plate VI.) 
 
 It is in the morning that these scenes should be visited ; 
 
 then is the moment of inspiration and musing ! The fresh 
 sensations of the mind are not then harassed by the fatigue of 
 the long and laborious day 3 they have found tranquillity in the 
 arms of sleep, and we hasten to enjoy, in voluptuous delirium^ 
 
38 Castellan's Travels in Italyi'^ 
 
 all the faculties of the imagination. With what delight did I 
 cast myself under the shade of the ancient olive-trees, which I 
 was willing to think Avere planted by the hands of Horace, or 
 which adorned the immense possessions of Quintilius Varus ! 
 
 A tradition, common amongst the inhabitants of Tivoli, 
 points out the foundations of the little convent of San-Antonio 
 as the scite of the poet's habitation. Situated on the right bank 
 of the Anio, this villa, like that of Catullus, might be called 
 either Sahina, or Tiburtina, accoi'ding to what Suetonius says, 
 who places it in the neighbourhood of the sacred forest of 
 Tibur. Though Horace boasted of his poverty, it was only re- 
 lative; he possessed a house in Rome, and rents, and stewards, 
 and slaves : he did not consider himself rich, but enjoyed that 
 aurea mediocritas — that happy competence equally removed 
 from riches and from poverty, and he did not therefore excite the 
 envy of his opulent neighbours. The steep scite which the 
 house occupies proves that it was not spacious ; a garden, sus- 
 tained by terraces, stretched nearly to the borders of the river^ 
 and a wood of chesnut-trees, which still exist, formed a shelter 
 against the burning heat of noon, and formed a Avalk which 
 might be compared, said the poet, to the delicious groves of 
 Tarentum. In short, this enrhanting retreat where all the 
 pleasures of the country and the charms of study might be en- 
 joyed in peace, might well satisfy the wishes of a heart attached 
 to solitude and literature. 
 
 From the modest retreat of Horace, 1 turned to the haughty 
 habitation of Quiniilius Varus, situated in front of that of Me- 
 csenas, which it seemed desirous of rivaling in magnificence ; 
 this villa crowns the hill, at the foot of which runs the Teve- 
 rone : on the other side, fronting the south, extend the ruins of 
 the palace of Mecsenas. The waters, which add to the beauty 
 of the scene, lose themselves amongst the ruins, and again 
 seek the light through the crevices of the walls which they 
 undermine. 
 
 Ancient fortifications, with embattled towers, which rival 
 in height the spires of Christian churches, and the edifices of 
 Tivoli, are disposed with a sort of picturesque symmetry on the 
 table summit of a vast acclivity, whose sides, though steep, are 
 covered with verdure. On every little shelf where the industiy 
 of man could convey a few baskets full of earth, are seen fniit- 
 trees and vines ; even the peaks of the rocks are cloathed with 
 moss and tufts of herbs, the verdure of which is nourished by 
 the humid mists which perpetually surround them. The 
 streams flow from all sides with more or less abundance, and 
 they are converted to useful purposes in turning mills for the 
 manufacture of copper, iron, and other articles, After per- 
 
CascatelleS'-'Englis'h Caricatures. 39 
 
 forming these useful services they escape from the midst of 
 the houses and trees, and embellish the country with the eftect 
 of their innumerable falls — producing those delicious cascatelles 
 which form the delight of the traveller, and the despair of the 
 landscape-painter. Now they glide from rock to rock, like 
 silver threads ; now they separate themselves, and shine like 
 plates of metal — sometimes confined in a narrow bed they are 
 covered with foam of snow-like whiteness : but how can even 
 the first of the cascatelles, so abundant and so beautiful, be 
 described at once ? Imagine a river springing from many 
 fountains uniting itself in one bed, and dashing headlong in 
 columns of unequal size, which unite as they descend, and, ere 
 they reach the bottom, form a cloud of sparkling spray ; the 
 waters then break upon pyramidal rocks resembling in their 
 colours that beautiful mineral malachite : there the vapours, 
 undergoing a metamorphosis, are converted into a liqviid state, 
 and, swelling through the rocks, burst forth, and surmounting 
 eveiy obstacle which opposed their course towards a less 
 rugged channel, they gain their level, and, with it, their former 
 transparency and beauty. 
 
 It was late when I returned to Tivoli — my dinner was spoiled 
 and my wine was flat ; but every thing appeared excellent to 
 me — I had visited the cascatelles and the house of Horace ! 
 
 The bad weather has detained me in the house ; but fortu- 
 nately the situation is extremely picturesque, and furnishes me, 
 without going out of doors, with numerous prospects. I also 
 enjoy another source of amusement ; the walls of the rooms 
 are covered with verses and sketches, the latter frequently 
 the productions of good artists, who have wasted an hour or 
 two in thus bestowing entertainment on succeeding travellers. 
 The English artists seem to have carried the art of caricaturing 
 to the highest state of perfection : one of them has lately or- 
 namented the whole length of our hosts gallery with a sketch 
 of the post-asses of Tivoli ; that is to say, he has represented 
 all the incidents of an excursion from hence to the Villa 
 Adriana. I lost much of the merit of this pleasant caricature, 
 from not being acquainted with the persons (of both sexes) 
 that were represented in great variety, and extremely well 
 expressed; but, independent of this, the sketch of the long-eared 
 coursers was most excellent, and their ridiculous positions, and 
 the other laughable incidents which often take place in large 
 parties, afforded me much entertainment. 
 
 The following day the heavens grew clear, and at the break 
 of day I set off with one of the sons of my host for my guide: 
 on leaving the city by the Porto delle Colle there is a fine river, 
 which I recommend to artists. We left on our right the 
 
40 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 temple of Tosse, which ivy and climbing plants covered with 
 their foliage, concealing its form, and giving it the appear- 
 ance of a verdant arbour; an isolated and colossal column 
 marked the station of the house of MecEenas ; further on rose 
 some towers ; as far as the eye extended there was a beautifiil 
 mingling of gardens and houses, and ruins, shadowed with 
 cypress and pine trees ; at the bottom the elevated summits of 
 Monticelli, Montalbano, and San-Angelo in Capoccia, which 
 form the limit of the Sabine territory, and of the Campagna of 
 Rome, seem to crown the plain, through which the Anio 
 winds, peaceably reposing, as it were, from the fatigues which 
 it has experienced in the rocky passes of Tivoli. 
 
 The temple of Tosse is sicuated in the garden belonging to 
 the canons of the cathedral ; its form is circular, and it is in 
 a good state of preservation ; in fact, it is not known to what 
 divinity it was consecrated, although popular tradition has 
 dedicated it to the goddess who presided over coughs. It is 
 certainly true that the ancients sometimes erected altars to 
 malevolent deities, to propitiate them, and to protect them- 
 selves from their influence ; Cicero mentions a temple con- 
 secrated to Fever ; Pliny speaks of the temples of Misfortune 
 and Idleness ; perhaps, however, the etymology of this 
 denomination may have arisen in another manner. The desig- 
 nation of families was frequently added lo the names of divini- 
 ties as Juno-Claiidia, Fortuna- J'/auia ; may not this temple 
 have been dedicated to some Venus- Tossia, or Ceres- Tossia ? 
 Fabretti mentions two monuments of a family of that name. 
 
 As we proceeded on our route, we traversed woods wiiich 
 shaded a soft green turf; we forded little brooks, or climbed 
 small hills covered with myrtles, sage, and rosemary. The 
 sun which falls direct on these unsheltered and uncultivated 
 spots, almost burns them, rendering the odours of the plants 
 still more strong, and drinking up their balsamic emanations, 
 which rise like the incense of gratitude to the great Creator. 
 I gave way to the beauty of the scene, and, plunged into con- 
 templative thought, I made no answers but in monosyllables 
 to my young guide; and he, on his side, withdrawing himself, 
 instigated no doubt by the chaunting of the birds, began gaily 
 to sing those beautiful airs which the people of this land so 
 much delight in, and the melodious simplicity of which is 
 truly charming. What is that natural taste which is found 
 only in Italy, where eveiy simple villager, every child that 
 sings is accompanied immediately by the bye-standers with 
 such taste and judgment ? In joining their voices the same 
 air is continued, not in the same tones, but Avith the melody 
 of different parts. Whence does that tact arise, that nice and 
 
3ITE OI-- HOIiiCD'S HOrSiE. 
 
Villa Adriana, 41 
 
 delicate perception, which enables them to catch the most 
 harmonious notes, and to reject every false tone ? They know 
 not the rules of music ; they are ignorant of the lowest prin- 
 ciples of composition, yet they form combinations which indi- 
 cate the finest skill, and seem the effect of a sort of instinct. 
 
 Without experiencing the least fatigue from the length of 
 the way, we arrived at the entrance of the ancient mansion of 
 a powerful emperor. No triumphal arch, no succession of 
 porticos were left — a simple and unornamented door-way, 
 formed of two pilasters covered with plaster, was all that re- 
 mained. As I entered the vast inclosure of the Villa Adriana, 
 I found myself surrounded by heaps of ruins which astonished 
 me by their immensity. 
 
 The proud retreat of Adrian, situated about three miles from 
 Tibur, towards the south-west, occupied, in a line of nearly 
 three miles, a chain of hills in the midst of a winding valley, 
 bounded by rocks : it was protected towards the east by high 
 mountains crowned with thick forests ; and on the opposite 
 side lay the numerous monuments strewed along the plain of 
 Rome. In the distance the seven hills of the eternal city, 
 covered with obelisks and temples, rose above the horizon, 
 burning with the setting splendours of the sun. A nearer 
 view of the villa discovered the edifices built on the summits 
 of the hills, on their sides or at their base; some built on level 
 ground, some raised on terraces, and some constructed under 
 ground ; there were porticos, gymnasiums, theatres, circuses, 
 stadiums, temples, and houses mingled with gardens, bowers, 
 and pieces of water. This vast territory contained such a quan- 
 tity of monuments, that it bade defiance to the outrages of 
 time and man. 
 
 Sallust, Horace, and Seneca, complain with reason of the 
 ruinous magnificence of the villas of their time ; Adrian sur- 
 passed all his predecessors, and put the world under contri- 
 bution for embellishments for his Tiburtine Villa. This em- 
 peror is said to have had a desire of constructing in this place, 
 imitations of all the most celebrated edifices which he had 
 admired in his travels, as the Lyceum, the Academy, and the 
 Prytaneum of Athens. Nay, it was even said that a represen- 
 tation of the infernal kingdom and the Elysian fields was to be 
 seen here. One cannot doubt the truth of history, when one 
 beholds these monuments. Though explored a hundred times, 
 and presenting no interest but to painters and architects, yet 
 the immense space which is covered, the thickness and solidity 
 of the walls, the precious objects, the remains of which crowd 
 every step, the very considerable number of statues, bas- 
 reliefs, and inscriptions, which have been discovered in this 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No. 5, Vol, III. G 
 
42 Castellan's TVareZs in Italy. 
 
 place, and carried to Rome, to enrich the museums — all 
 add to the idea which we have formed of the powerful mag- 
 nificence and never-failing resources of the monarch-people. 
 
 The principal entrance into the villa looked towards the 
 bridge of Lucano, and the Tiburtine road -, a way, the re- 
 mains of which are still seen, led to it : two piles of masoniy, 
 distant from each other 75 feet, mark the entrance — they rise 
 on the border of the road, at the entrance of the modern en- 
 closure. On entering, the most remarkable object which 
 presents itself is a very high wall, which overlooks the Paecile, 
 a double portico of 700 feet in height, once ornamented in all 
 probability with paintings, like that at Athens, and supported 
 on each side by the wall we have mentioned. This building 
 is so high, that it casts a shade at almost every period of the 
 day. This wall was situated between two squares equally 
 surrounded with porticoes ; that on the south still preserves 
 the form of a parallelogram, terminated at its extremities by 
 flattened arches. In the centre of this vast court there rose 
 some low walls, which formerly supported a fountain, if we 
 may credit those who levelled the place, in order to plant it 
 with vines. 
 
 It was in the Psecile, and in a hall which yet exists, that 
 Adrian used to assemble his literary friends, and where he 
 used to amuse himself in listening to, or disputing with them, 
 according to the Athenian custom. The Bibliotheca, or 
 Library, was not far from the Paecile — nothing remains of it 
 but the wall, in which there are 25 niches. 
 
 On a neighbouriag hill rises a magnificent theatre ; frag- 
 ments of 48 statues have been discovered here ; the rising 
 seats are still distinguishable, and the proscenium and some 
 other parts are in good preservation : it is the same with the 
 other ancient theatre, with the exception of those of Pompeii 
 and Herculaneum, which are more complete. 
 
 Turning to the south, we see the remains of the porticoes 
 which led to the baths ; then we arrive at the Academy and 
 the Temple of Apollo and the Muses, which was ornamented 
 with columns of Parian marble ; not far from this, in the 
 place in which the wild-beasts were confined, there were dis- 
 covered in the pontificate of Alexander VI. the statues of the 
 nine muses, which now adorn the Royal Museum of Paris. 
 The neighbouring ground is covered with the ruins of the 
 buildings which formed the Academy, habitations mingled 
 with gardens and fountains formed by conducting thither the 
 waters of the IVIarcia and the Anio : from this point extends a 
 portico, which led to that part of the villa called the Lyceum — 
 
Villa Adnana, 43 
 
 a building dedicated to philosophical studies, where a group 
 of Pan and Syrinx was discovered. 
 
 After having traversed the foundation of an exedrum and of 
 the baths, the traveller arrives at the Canopiis, one of the 
 most beautiful ornaments of the place ; here part of the valley 
 had been shaped so as to contain a vast sheet of water, where 
 imitations of naval combats were represented : at one of the 
 extremities lie the ruins of a temple in the form of a shell, 
 which was dedicated to Neptune, who was called Canopus by 
 the Egyptians. Here also the statue of a sea-horse, one of the 
 attributes of that deity was discovered ; and also a consider- 
 able quantity of figures of Egyptian divinities, which were 
 conveyed to the Museum of the Vatican, and deposited in the 
 hall called on that account Canopus. In proceeding towards 
 the east the traveller enters another valley, which is supj^osed 
 by antiquarians to have been fashioned into a model of the 
 delicious bowers of Tempe and the Elysian fields, and in which 
 was the entrance to the infernal regions. 
 
 It appears to me that the excavations ornamented with 
 sculptures and paintings, and in which mysteries, so terrifying 
 to the uninitiated, were celebrated, were formed from the 
 quarries, Avhence the immense piles of materials used in the 
 construction of this villa were drawn; the entrances are 
 through three apertures, which, in the opinion of Pirro Li- 
 gorio, mark the avenues of the three-quarters of the worlds — 
 Asia towards the East, Africa towards the west, and Europe 
 towards the north : long corridors, forming a labyrinth, led 
 to an immense cavern filled with water, where the thrones 
 and tribunals of the infernal deities were seen. The Crypto 
 Porticus was a grotto formed in the rock. {See Plate IX.) 
 
 Towards the south, and at the extremity of the villa, ex- 
 tends the rest of the Prytaneum ; it was composed of vast 
 piles of building, where the emperor lodged the sick soldiers, 
 his ancient companions in arms. Here were the granaries, 
 the cellars, and innumerable other magazines for all sorts of 
 provisions. Both in the environs, and in the centre of the 
 beautiful gardens, rose the monuments of the illustrious persons 
 who died in the villa. Many cinerary urns have been disco- 
 vered. With the exceptions above mentioned, the villa only 
 presents amass of ruins. In the time, indeed, of Pirro Ligorio, 
 many other buildings were standing; this was about the 
 year 1550. 
 
 I quitted these interesting scenes, and hastened towards 
 Rome. On my return from the villa, I passed a crowd from 
 which loud laughs proceeded, and cries of bravo. I enquired 
 the reason, and found that they were engaged in the game 
 
44 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 al porco, or of pigs. Popular amusements generally resemble 
 one another, although they vary iiccording to the country, and 
 the manners and character of the inhabitants. There are some 
 games which, though cruel and sanguinary, are tolerated only 
 on account of the address and courage which they require. It 
 is in the nature of man to prefer games in which some personal 
 danger is mingled. But it is shameful for man to amuse him- 
 self with the sufferings of harmless animals, frequently of a 
 timid and peaceable nature, in cold blood; and without danger 
 to himself exciting them to fight and mutilate one another, 
 and then enjoying their agony. 
 
 The game which I have just mentioned is of the latter spe- 
 cies, though scarcely more ridiculous than cruel ; and it is not 
 without risk to those who engage in it. A pig is the subject 
 ahd the victim of the entertainment. This animal is adorned 
 with ribbands and painted with various colours, and a bell is 
 hung round its neck. The object of the game is to pursue and 
 catch him ; and this is very difficult for the performers, since 
 they can neither see nor walk. Each of them in fact, is tied 
 up in a sack of thick sail cloth, which is tied together at the 
 top, so as to protect the person inside from the effect of blows. 
 Two apertures are left for the arms, which are left completely 
 at liberty. Muffled up in this strange manner, the hunters are 
 placed in a ring, at some distance from one another, and are 
 armed with sticTvs, ready, when the pig is let loose, to com- 
 mence the attack. As soon as the ringing of the bell betrays 
 the situation of their prey, and warns them of its approach, 
 they all begin to leap forwards, for, as they cannot walk, they 
 are obliged to use this motion. The slightest obstacle, and 
 the least shock, trip them up ; much of the sport consists in 
 their endeavours to overthrow one another. The terrified 
 animal, scared by the cries of the crowd, runs awkwardly 
 about, endeavouring to escape from its enemies. It flies from 
 one and meets with another, running against him and knocking 
 him down; — then it makes a new attempt to pierce the crowd 
 of spectators, which drives it back into the circle, beneath the 
 sticks of its pursuers : at the sound of the bell, the weapons 
 again descend, frequently on the shoulders of the other com- 
 batants. The animal becomes the property of him who seizes 
 or disables it. The conqueror generally invites his companions 
 to feast on the fruits of his triumph. 
 
 In re-entering this city, two objects of great interest, and 
 which form good proofs of the taste both of the ancients and 
 moderns, the villas of Mecsenas and Este, (See plate VIII.) claim 
 from the traveller a more than ordinary attention. It is neces- 
 saiy to call up every power of the judgment and Imagination, 
 
Villas of Meceends and Este. * 45 
 
 to form an accurate idea of the former. The latter, better 
 preserved, is yet nothing more than the shadow, as it were, 
 of what it was in the time when this family, now extinct, 
 flourished — a family which has gained an immortal name in 
 the verses of Ariosto. The long terraces, the elegant porticoes, 
 the refreshing grottoes, are solitary and silent. The stillness 
 of the gardens is only broken by the rustUng of the leaves ; 
 and the light murmurs of the waters, which, formerly subjected 
 to the tortures of art, rose in jets, or fell in cascades, upon beds 
 of madrepore, of mother-of-pearl, and of shells. Now, aban- 
 doned to the beautiful wildness of nature, they wind through 
 the unequal plain, or amidst the trees, to the beds which they 
 have formed for themselves in the hollows of the valley. The 
 luxury of Nature has replaced the haughty vanity of the former 
 proprietors. Whilst the marbles are sinking in decay, the 
 enormous cypresses which adorn the garden continue to in- 
 crease, till their lofty heads seem searching in the clouds the 
 bolt which has often blasted their form and their beauty. 
 Time, the great vanquisher, has already begun to leave in these 
 places the traces of his power, which are so cruelly visible in 
 the villa of Mecsenas. 
 
 Mecsenas knew how to make a noble and generous use of 
 life and riches. The Society which he enjoyed, composed of 
 Augustus, of Horace, and of Virgil, and indeed of all the most 
 celebrated men of his time, rendered his life truly pleasing to 
 him. The beauty of the situation of this villa, the variety of 
 vast and splendid edifices, the refined distribution of the 
 interior apartments, and the objects of curiosity which were 
 collected in this place, attracted hither all the luxurious in- 
 habitants of Rome. The grandeur of style observable in these 
 ruins, and their vastness, recal the memory of their former 
 greatness, and excite sentiments of a(kniration for them, even 
 in their present state of decay. 
 
 They were described by Pirro Ligorio, at a time when they 
 existed in a more perfect state. But the many vicissitudes 
 which this edifice, dedicated to delight, has suffered in the 
 lapse of ages, have despoiled it of the most of its beauties. 
 Scarcely a trace remains of the paintings, and the sculptured 
 ornaments have all disappeared. How different now is this 
 habitation from what it was when the minister and favourite 
 of Augustus fled to this retreat, in search of that repose and 
 slumber which so obstinately refused to shed its influence on 
 his eye-lids. Yet the murmurs of the waters, which as they 
 flowed, refreshed the delightful sojourn, and fell from various 
 cascades ; musicians placed at a certain distance from the bed- 
 chamber, so that the harmonious sounds of instruments and 
 
46 Casiellan*s Travels in Italy. 
 
 voices, bore only to the ear murmurs which invited to sleep ; 
 all the resources which riches can lavish on their master, could 
 not calm the trouble of his soul and the inquietude of his spirit. 
 The very appearance of these ruins tells their ancient mag- 
 nificence. They rose pile above pile in retreating grandeur, 
 and the loftier buildings were reached by means of flights of 
 stejjs ornamented with grottos, from whence flowed fountains 
 of waters. The peculiar residence of Mecsenas, surrounded 
 with innumerable porticoes and gardens, like a high tower, 
 commanded a view of all the town of Tibur and its environs, 
 and could easily be perceived by the inhabitants of Rome: 
 and even at this day, when we see, rising from the green sum- 
 mits of the rocks which impend above the stream, two pro- 
 digious ranges of arcades, built in a noble and impressive style 
 of architecture, we are struck with admiration of this edifice, 
 one of the most extraordinary relics of an age fertile in the 
 productions of genius and splendour. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 St. Peter's — View of the Pontiff— History of Mosaic Painting — 
 Villas of the Italians — their Gardens — the Villa Borghese. 
 
 1.T is impossible to enter the cathedral of St. Peter without 
 experiencing a sentiment of respect which produces awe and 
 silence. This is, in fact, the first and most celebrated temple 
 in Christendom. It is the sanctuary of devotion, the scene of 
 the most solemn ceremonies. As I slowly gazed on the details 
 of this vast edifice,and as my thoughts were employed with equal 
 surprize and admiration on the astonishing objects which envi- 
 roned me, my attention was attracted by a scene, most simple, 
 yet most impressive, the lively memory of which brings it now 
 before my eyes. 1 saw, slowly advancing in tlie midst of a 
 crowd which fell prostrate at his feet, a venerable old man. 
 His finely shaped head was covered with white locks, and 
 kindness and calmness were expressed in his countenance. I 
 beheld the floating of his long white robe, and, though devoid 
 of every ornament, I recognized the sovereign Pontiff". The 
 deepest silence reigned around him. — Advancing alone to the 
 middle of the nave, he knelt down — and, prostrate on the 
 marble pavement, he humiliated himself before the sanctuaiy, 
 contbuuded and mingled with the other worshippers, I have 
 
St. Peter' s^View of the Pontiff. 47 
 
 since seen him under a magnificent canopy, crowned with the 
 triple tiara, and environed with all tlie pomp of sovereignty : 
 but to me lie appeared far more great when, lonely, bending 
 over a tomb, and plunged in deep meditation, he prayed for 
 the peace and safety of the human race. His humility elevated 
 him in my eyes: he then appeared a worthy successor of 
 St. Peter, a fit pastor for the Christian world — his lowly atti- 
 tude inspired more respect in my bosom than if I had seen him 
 officiating at the most gorgeous ceremonies. 
 
 A picture of another kind, yet no less interesting to me, now 
 engaged my attention — the sublime representation of the trans- 
 figuration of Christ. I know not whether it was accident, or 
 the consequence of the ingenious mode in which this Mosaic 
 was placed, — but a sunbeam shed its light on the Glory, while 
 the rest of the composition was in a soft and harmonious demi- 
 tint. The appearance of this inimitable painting, for it must 
 be called so; the sanctity of the place; the religious silence, 
 succeeded by the swell of harmonious voices which rolled along 
 the vaulted roofs ; the whole scene ended so truly imposing, 
 left such traces in my mind, that I doubt whether the sublime 
 original* could give rise to similar sensations. 
 
 Some observations on the art of Mosaic painting will not be 
 impertinent in this place. This art, which consists in uniting 
 small pieces of various coloured marbles, so as the surface may 
 have the effect of a painting, was discovered by an artist, whose 
 industry Pliny qualifies with the term of importunum ingenium. 
 The invention is most probably due to the Persians, from whom 
 it passed to the Assyrians, and thence to the Greeks ; it was 
 not practised at Rome till the later years of the republic, when 
 works of this kind were introduced from Persia, Numidia, 
 Phrygia, and Egypt, and raised amongst the Romans a desire 
 of imitation. Accordingly, marbles were collected from various 
 countries, and a school of Greek artists established at Rome. 
 The art was at length gradually naturalized in that city, and 
 was carried to great perfection under the emperor Adrian, who 
 was much attached to it; and the relics of Mosaics, which 
 have been found in our time in the villa of that emperor, do 
 not behe the pompous descriptions which Statins has left us. 
 
 The art continued in great estpem during the two first ages 
 of the empire ; but under Septimus Severus, with the other 
 arts, it also began to decline. Still, in Italy, they worked in 
 Mosaic under Gallienus, Aurelian, and their successors. The 
 Goths, who sometimes imitated the Romans in their protection 
 of the fine arts, professed some esteem for Mosaic painting; 
 
 * This picture had been can:ied to Paris. The copy is in Mosaic work. 
 
48 '. Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 and Theocloric, when he became King of Italy, caused a pave- 
 ment to be worked at Santa Maria, in Cosmediyi, at Ravenna. 
 The Goths seem to me to have been unreasonably accused of 
 destroying- the monuments of art : that destruction should be 
 attributed to other causes ; but a dissertation on this subject 
 would detain me too long. 
 
 In the sixth century the working in Mosaic was much prac- 
 tised at Constantinople, and was patronized by Justinian. By 
 the orders of that prince, the dome of St. Sophia was orna- 
 mented with paintings of this kind, which were rather distin- 
 guished for the selection and richness of the materials, than 
 for the purity of the design. It was at this period that the 
 custom of executing paintings and Mosaics on a gold ground 
 was introduced, a custom continued to our days in the churches 
 of the modern Greeks. From the seventh to the tenth century, 
 the art of Mosaic painting was promoted by various pontiffs; 
 but, at the latter period, this, with the other arts, suffered so 
 much neglect, that the abbot of Monte Cassino, wishing to 
 have some designs executed in it, was compelled to procure 
 artists from Constantinople. From this period, few Mosaics 
 were painted in Italy till the fourteenth century, when Venice 
 became the true school of the art. Andrea Tafi, a Florentine, 
 having been instructed by Apollonius, a Greek, established a 
 school for Mosaic painting in Florence, in which Gaddo Gaddi^ 
 Vicino de Pisa, and many others were instructed. 
 
 This art was in great request at Rome, under the pontificate 
 of Benedict XII. ; and to the talents of Giotto, aided by Simone 
 Memmi, and by Piero Cavallini, we owe the celebrated picture 
 of the bark of St. Peter agitated by the waves. Towards the 
 end of the fifteenth century, Ghirlandajo completed, at Flo- 
 rence, a magnificent Mosaic, composed of cubical pieces of 
 stained glass, which procured him much fame. As design 
 grew more perfect, the works in Mosaic became less stiff in 
 their contour, and the colouring was better understood. Titian 
 perfected the art, when he had the direction of the decoration 
 of St. Mark's, by causing imitations in Mosaic of his own im- 
 mortal paintings to be executed. Under Clement VIII. it was 
 determined to ornament the church of St. Peter with paintings; 
 and, in consequence of the humidity of the place. Mosaics were 
 preferred ; the ablest artists were engaged Cigoli, Passignano, 
 Vanni, &c. It is impossible in this place to give a detailed 
 account of these productions : it may be sufficient to say, that 
 some of the finest works of Domenichino, Guercino, and Pous- 
 sin, were imitated in the most durable materials. The Trans- 
 figuration, after Raffaelle, executed by the orders Clement XII. 
 is one of the most perfect specimens of the modern school of 
 Mosaic painting. 
 
Mosaic Painting, 49 
 
 We shall now give a succinct idea of the mechanical part of 
 this art as it is practised at Rome. The fragments of marble, 
 coloured glass, or stones, which are made use of, vary in size. 
 They are square, triangular, or lozenge-shaped ; or, rather, 
 they take every angular form which allows of their suiting the 
 purposes of the artist in the contour of design, and at the same 
 time enables him to join them without leaving the least 
 interval. There are various ways of shaj)ing these fragments; 
 and, after they are cut into prisms or cubes, they are disposed 
 in order, according to the diiferent shades of colour. The 
 artist then selects as many of these as he imagines will furnish 
 him with a day's work ; and he prepares a ground of plaster, 
 formed of chalk and marble powder mixed with gum-adragant 
 and the white of eggs. The stucco thus prepared is spread 
 very thick on the walls, where it remains fresh and moist, 
 sometimes for three or four days; and it is occasionally 
 moistened with damp linen. The artist chalks on this plaster 
 the outline of his design after his sketch, then with a pair of 
 fine pincers he takes the small squares of glass and inserts them 
 in the stucco, arranging them one after another so as to give 
 the lights and shades and the various tints. In this he follows 
 the design which he has under his eye, taking care to leave no 
 opening between the pieces, and placing them all equal and 
 at the same height. At length, by continuing this process, and 
 polishing the surface with very fine sand and water, the artist 
 completes his labours. 
 
 As my object is peculiarly to recommend the application of 
 Mosaic work to splendid and magnificent subjects of decoration, 
 I shall only add, that the moderns appear to have surpassed 
 the ancients in this art, at least in the immense proportion of 
 some of their works. There is no ancient monument of this 
 kind which can be compared in richness to the church of 
 St. Peter, where twelve or fifteen of these large comj)ositions 
 which I have mentioned may be seen. The vast cupola and 
 the lantern are also magnificently ornamented with Mosaics. 
 
 There is also another process, derived, no doubt, from the 
 same idea of durability; the origin and history of which are 
 curious and little known. I mean the terra invetriata awl the 
 majolica^ which have given I'ise to the painting on enamel and 
 porcelain, and perhaps also to the staining of glass. But 
 enough at present of the arts. 
 
 Rome presents so many interesting objects to the traveller, 
 that an age would be necessary to see and describe them. The 
 Vatican alone would fill volumes. I find myself unable to dwell 
 for a long time together on the same object. Notw ii- 
 standiug \vinter, the country offers many charms ; and tl te 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No, 5, Vol. III. H 
 
5Q Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 are most delightful when, surrounded by hills whose summits 
 are white with snows, we breathe all the sweetness of the 
 spring-tide ; and, though the verdure be less fresh than at that 
 beautiful season, we scarce lack anything of the charms of the 
 
 country. 
 
 Yet ' it was with regret that I turned from the magnificent 
 galleries, even though it was to wander in the laurel shades of 
 the Villa Medicis, or under the verdant chesnut trees and pines 
 of the Boro-hese garden?. These delicious spots where Nature 
 and Art have united to produce beauty, are my delight. — There 
 I read I draw, and I meditate; and, although alone, [ am 
 never tired of my occupation. — There I never experience 
 either the wild elevation of joy, nor the dejection of deep sor- 
 row ; but that peaceable contentment of soul, arising from the 
 calmness of the passions, and the absence of worldly business, 
 which permits me to give myself up to the sweet and tranquil 
 pleasures which a liberal cultivation of the arts induces. 
 
 The name of Villa, which the French, by a periphrasis, trans- 
 late maison de plaisance, awakens in the mind ideas of peace, 
 grandeur, prosperity, and pleasure. In fact, these little palaces, 
 built in picturesque situations, can only be inhabited with ease 
 and security in nations where the country is peaceable and 
 the towns flourishing. Thus amongst the ancient Greeks, who 
 were always at war with one another, and perpetually menaced 
 with foreign incursions, the husbandmen were forced to shut 
 themselves up in the cities, seeking within their walls a shelter 
 for their fortunes, their liberty, and their lives, and edifices of 
 this kind werejcompletely unknown. It was the same among the 
 Romans, till the time of Augustus, when that powerfid people 
 had repelled the waves of war from their shores. Then the 
 plain of Rome, the borders of Campania, and the margins of 
 the lakes of Lombardy, became covered with those charming 
 habitations which, for a jjart of the year, aftbrded a retreat to 
 the illustrious Romans. This luxury was carried to such an 
 excess, that the Ciceros, the Mecsenases, and the Plinies, could 
 travel over almost the whole of Italy, from the capital to the 
 confines of Apulia, without, as it were, quitting their own pro- 
 perty ; for, during the whole route, they rested at their own 
 villas or houses, which supplied them and their suite, 
 frequently very numerous, with every thing which was either 
 necessary or agreeable. In fact, these journeys, where every 
 thing which pride or luxury could require was found, were 
 converted into parties of pleasure. 
 
 Amongst the moderns none but sovereigns can travel in this 
 ; le. One is surprised to think how a simple Roman knight 
 rpassed in this respect some of the greatest monarchs of 
 ntiquity, and even many of the sovereigns of our o\vn day. 
 
Italian Gardens. 81 
 
 The wars, of which Italy became the theatre, during- the 
 convulsions of the Lower Emph-e, soon swept away these de- 
 licious villas of which scarce anything but disfigured ruins 
 remained; and it was not till the epoch of the restoration of 
 the arts and of peace that great men began to imitate in the 
 disposition of their villas the example of the ancients. In this 
 the French were very late, and it was not till the age of 
 Louis XIV. that we saw any royal edifices, or castles, worthy 
 of the name. 
 
 The villas of the Italians have served as a model for all 
 Europe. Celebrated by poets, and admired by travellers, they 
 well deserve a faithful graphic representation: and yet to this 
 day there is scarcely a single work which gives a tolerable idea 
 of these edifices. 
 
 Disposed in the best manner for effect, the builders have 
 taken advantage, with admirable address, of the nature of the 
 situation, and the position in which frequently they have been 
 obhged to build; their gardens, above all, have a fairy- like 
 appearance which is rarely found elsewhere, and which re- 
 sults less fi-om the wildness v/ith which they affect to imitate 
 nature, than from a sort of regularity which harmonises with 
 the decorations and the architectural effect. The gardens of 
 the Tuilleries perhaps convey the best idea of their Italian 
 prototypes. 
 
 It may perhaps appear extraordinary, that, in a country 
 which naturally presents svich a variety of beautiful walks, 
 the forms of regular gardens should have been adopted ; but 
 this surprise will probably cease when we reflect, that all 
 these natural beauties are the property of every peasant who 
 can feast his eyes on the variety of woods, and hills, and 
 brooks, and cottages, and ruins, which form the elements of 
 English gardening. But this prospect, which is so common 
 in Italy, on that very account possesses no attractions for the 
 great and the rich ; they esteem it necessaiy that nature 
 should present to their eyes a new, an imposing, and a singular 
 appearance. Thus they plant in lines, and trail their trees 
 in a thousand different forms; they imprison their streams 
 in narrow channels, force them to spout into the air, and to 
 fall down precipices in symmetric cascades. 
 
 In this the modern Italians only follow the example of their 
 ancestors ; the art was restored by the Medici, as favourable 
 to the decoration of the brilliant fetes with which they wished 
 to amuse their fellow-citizens; in their sumpcuous gardens 
 nature was subjected to the rules of art ; the brilliant fictions 
 of the poets were realised, and every sense, flattered and de- 
 lighted, held the imagination in continued enchantment. 
 
52 Castellan's Travels in Italy > 
 
 It may be objected, it is true, that all these effects are false 
 and that nature here is entirely factitious; that the long 
 wedge-shaped alleys, the forced fountains, the well-assorted 
 flowers enclosed in regular compartments, and all these ob- 
 jects so symmetrically repeated, only fatigue by their length, 
 and speak little to the mind, and still less to the heart ; but, 
 in fact, the only object is to amuse the senses, to excite asto- 
 nii^hment and admiration, and to make a royal habitation har- 
 monize with the pomp and splendour of a court; and this is 
 besides the true mode of laying out a public garden, where 
 people walk less for the sake of solitude, than for the purpose 
 of meeting pleasing society, and where it is so frequently the 
 object of every one to shine. 
 
 The citizen, to be sure, fatigued with town-pleasures, may 
 convert his little garden to the English model ; he may make 
 mountains scarce comparable to American ant-hills; vallies a 
 few feet long; and he may now and then pump a respectable 
 stream which shall fio%y a full quarter of an hour. 
 
 The passionate lovers of the true beauties of nature, will 
 pardon these observations on the contemptible imitations 
 which outrage their model, and will prefer in many situations 
 the monotonous uniformity of our old French gardens, to 
 those which are laid out in what is called the English 
 style ; it is true, that very regular plantations are far from 
 pleasing ; the Italians have perceived this, and they have 
 stopped at a point Avhen the deformity becomes monstrous. 
 It is a correct remark, that the gardens of Italy present all 
 the variety and picturesque efiect of modern gardens, without 
 any of their monotony or puerile simplicity ; they are planted 
 regularly round the houses, and, by a skilfully managed pro- 
 gression as they recede, they mingle with the sylvan appear- 
 ance of the country ; they do not, as amongst us, endeavour 
 to make a fine situation of a garden ; but they make the gar- 
 den in a fine situation ; art follows nature, and does not strive 
 to create it ; even in the least thing, the traces of genius, the 
 refinement «f good taste, and the decorum of art, are percep- 
 tible in this country. Frequently we see architecture, sculp- 
 ture, and painting, all directed by one mind, often executed 
 by the same hand, concurring to produce a general effect, and 
 by their perfect harmony a most delightful agreement of parts. 
 In fact, these gardens give the best idea of the boasted villas 
 of the ancients, and nothing probably better resembles the 
 habitations of LucuUus, the gardens of Sallust, and the re- 
 treats of Cicero and of Pliny, than the Ville Aibani, Panfili, 
 Aldobrandini. and Borghese ; the latter more especially, which 
 is the constaat boundary of my walks, well supplies the place 
 
Italian Gardens. 53 
 
 of the villa of Porapey the Great, which was situated in this 
 place, and which that celebrated general bought in the year 
 of Rome 692, under the name of his freedman Demetrius 
 Liberius, with the produce of the riches which he had ac- 
 quired in his wars with the Armenians, the Parthians, and the 
 Assyrians, and in his triumph over Mithridates. 
 
 This vast piece of land, which extended over all Mount Pin- 
 cius, contained large gardens of unequal ground, ornamented 
 with fountains and other superb buildings : though now of 
 less extent, it contains nearly as many objects of curiosity as 
 formerly. The mode in which they are distributed is full of 
 taste, and might serve for a model. 
 
 The inequality of the land is taken advantage of in order 
 to produce the most extraordinary effects, one of which sur- 
 prises the beholder the more as it is rarely met with ; it is a 
 lake suspended, as it were, on the summit of a mountain : the 
 waters are carried there at a great expense, but then they 
 give life to these beautiful gardens. They rush from the top of 
 a rock filling the urns of many sculptured nymphs, and at 
 last, flowing round a temple consecrated to Esculapius, this 
 irregular lake is surrounded by magnificent trees, such as 
 chesnut trees, laurels, weeping-willows, and also with fragrant 
 shrubs, the trembling and dome-shaped foliage of which is 
 reflected in the waters which it darkens. 
 
 During those beautiful nights, the calmness and freshness of 
 which are so much prized in Italy, this temple and these 
 cascades are sometimes illuminated in an ingenious and pleas- 
 ing manner. Elegant boats shoot along the boj'ders of the 
 lake, or linger under the flowery bowers ; bands of musicians, 
 distributed here and there, make the scene echo with the sub- 
 lime notes of Paesiello and of Cimorosa, while select com- 
 panies wander amid the enchanting arbours, or form them- 
 selves into parties for dancing. 
 
 These beautiful gardens in every part offer some object of 
 interest ; little edifices appropriated to various uses are scat- 
 tered throughout — here rises a chapel in the middle of a 
 quincunx ; there extend the ruins of a Grecian temple sur- 
 rounded with laurels ; farther on there rose a vast Hippodrome, 
 used for equestrian exercises and races. In a retired valley, 
 the arid sides of which are covered with immense pines, an 
 old embattled castle bursts upon the view, and herds of deer 
 may be seen wandering along the sylvan shades ; fragments 
 of antiquity, statues, monuments, and bas-reliefs, which have 
 not been fortunate enough to find a place in the palace, nor 
 in the museum which has been recently constructed, are 
 tastefully distributed along the walls, along the paths, and in 
 the arbours. 
 
54 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 The Princes of Italy do indeed thus make a noble use of 
 their riches; in other respects they live in a veiy simple 
 manner, and they seem only to exist for the arts ; in labouring 
 for them they effectually extend the glory of their country, 
 and contribute to render it worthy the homage of men of 
 taste of every country. 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 Journey from Rome to Florence — Remarks on the two cities — 
 TJie Carnival — The Stanza and Cazina. 
 
 ill Y journey was so rapid from Rome to Florence, that I 
 shall not permit myself to describe a country which I travelled 
 over without stopping; yet, in spite of the speed with which I 
 travelled, I could not help remarking the great contrast be- 
 tween the states of the church, and the grand duchy of Tus- 
 cany : it appeared to me so striking, that I could scarcely be- 
 lieve it was the effect of prejudice. 
 
 When two states are separated by an arm of the sea, by a 
 river or by a chain of mountains, the communication between 
 the inhabitants becomes difficult, and a distinction in manners 
 and character and habits ensues ; but here the line of demar- 
 cation is in fact only ideal : the nature of the land is indeed the 
 same, but every thing else, even to the physiognomy of the 
 people, is different. The Romans have a taciturn and almost 
 savage air among the lower orders ; 1 frequently remarked 
 figures, which always enveloped in their mantles, and eye- 
 ing you with a scrutinizing look, appeared as if they were 
 meditating some act of vengeance, and we might feel uneasy 
 if we were not aware that these people all this time are ab- 
 solutely thinking of nothing, and only in their own way en- 
 joying their benedetto far niente ; this, when continued, is un- 
 doubtedly a state of ennui, and gives to their features an ex- 
 pression which becomes frightful from its immobility. 
 
 The plains of Rome, and here there is no illusion, are badly 
 cultivated j the villages are miserable, and the country, almost 
 
Remarlcs on Rome and Florence. 55 
 
 a desert, presents moors and heaths over which the traveller 
 passes with reluctance. The towns, filled with monks rather 
 than with citizens, seem the asylum of sloth. Such is the pic- 
 ture which all this territory, even to its frontier, presents ! 
 But on entering the bounds of Tuscany every thing changes, 
 even to the countenances of the inhabitants, which seem full of 
 contentment and benevolence. Their rural cottages, adapted 
 to all the necessities of agriculture, are well built; their fields, 
 skilfully cultivated, bear good crops; for Nature, avaricious 
 only towards the idle, always recompenses industry and labour 
 with treasures, the sources of prosperity and pleasure. 1 shall 
 pursue no farther a comparison which may be injurious, and, 
 perhaps, unjust, to one of these governments. I content 
 myself with pointing out the difference without seeking for 
 the cause. Perhaps I have overcharged |the painting, but 
 carefiil observation will be found to fortify my opinion. 
 
 It is very rare at Rome to find a meeting of a few individuals 
 which is not disturbed by a quarrel, often terminating with the 
 coltellate. 
 
 At Florence, on the contrary, on occasion of their many 
 ceremonies and public fetes, frequently the largest crowds as- 
 semble peaceably : on the festival of tlie Assumption, especially, 
 the inhabitants of Florence and its environs assemble early in 
 the morning in the vast and delicious walks of the Casinos, on 
 the borders of the Arno. There all ranks are mingled and 
 confounded by pleasure: the day is passed in joy; the air re- 
 sounds with songs, and with the sounds of the musical instru- 
 ments which animate the steps of the dancers ; '^and in the 
 shade of the pines and chesnut-trees small parties seat them- 
 selves on the turf to enjoy a rural repast. 
 
 The festival frequently extends far into the night, but there 
 is not a single instance of a quarrel attended with bloodshed ; 
 and yet there are more than twenty thousand persons collected 
 and enclosed in one place : — this made me love the Tuscans. 
 
 Rome and Florence present in their aj)pearance the same 
 contrast which we have remarked between the two states, and 
 they are in many respects opposed to each other. 
 
 At Rome, the mingling of modern edifices with the ruins of 
 those of the republic of the Caesars forms an interesting picture 
 for the artist and the historian : yet this conftision of all the 
 styles of architecture takes away from the modern city, which 
 is grafted as it were on the ancient town, every peculiar and 
 national character. On the contrary, the capital of Tuscany, 
 possessing no antique monuments, presents the appearance of 
 a town constructed at the same epoch and in the same style. 
 That of the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries still predominates^ 
 
56 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 and if the Florentine costume did not so much resemble our 
 own we might think we were still living in the noble age of 
 the Medici. The ancient monuments of Rome do not produce 
 this illusion : few of chem are preserved entire, and those which 
 are, are converted to modern uses, which has despoiled of their 
 enchantment these venerable relics. 
 
 The magnificent portal of the Pantheon would present to the 
 mind the temple consecrated by Agrippa, %vere it not for the 
 modern clocks which shew it is converted into a church. Its 
 interior more especially has preserved nothing of its ancient 
 decoration ; and the contrast on entering it is the same which 
 we meet with in buildings the exterior of which displays rustic 
 simplicity, while within we find saloons ornamented with all 
 that luxury can bestow. 
 
 The arches and triumphal columns have veiy little effect, 
 surrounded as they are with miserable houses, or buildings in 
 a modern and frequently extravagant taste : the other remains 
 of antiquity offer nothing but foundations or naked walls. 
 The imagination with difficulty views them in their pristine 
 state. In order effectually to recal the feeling of antiquity, 
 nothing should remind you of the present; and these reveries, 
 ])roduced by the enthusiasm so common to artists, ought to en- 
 joy retirement and solitude. The appearance of the Roman 
 ruins rarely procured me this delight, which I felt in all its 
 plenitude as I traversed the deserted streets of Pompeii. 
 
 If in Rome the mixture of antient and modern recollections 
 repels the imagination, which only acts to be deceived, this is 
 by no mea:;»s the case at Florence. It is true the epoch which 
 is there recalled is neither so ancient nor so interesting, — but 
 the mind recurs with less effort to the age of the Medici than 
 to that of Augustus. 
 
 On approaching Florence the eye discovers the same walls, 
 flanked with picturesque towers, which surrounded the city in 
 the fifteenth century, and against AA'hich the Pisans and the 
 Siennese so frequently spent their efforts in vain. All the 
 monuments which rise so proudly, those immense domes, the 
 embattled palaces, which resemble fortified castles, the chapels 
 enriched with pious offerings, the handsome streets paved in 
 tbe ancient style, the flowers which hang in festoons from one 
 palace' to another, Avhich crown the walls and the summit 
 of the towers, seeming by their abundance to have given its 
 name to the city, all recal the age when Florence, free, or 
 voluntarily submitting herself to the rule of her illustrious 
 children the Medici, dealt out to the rest of Italy science, 
 politeness, taste, and magnificence. 
 
 Let us enter the ancient public square ; — let us survey this'"' 
 
The Carnival. 67 
 
 palace, loaded with escutcheons of old families; — let us 
 rest under this logge, ornamented like the square with the 
 works of Donatello, of Michael Angelo, and of Giovanni di 
 Bologna: but the imagination cannot conjure up the glorious 
 men of th.it time, who in this place, presided by their magis- 
 trates, distributing rewards to merit, decreeing peace or war, 
 and ruling the affairs of the state. 
 
 The pleasures of the carnival broke in upon my researches 
 into the monuments of Florence ; but it will furnish me with 
 some shades of habits and manners which I should not have 
 been able to catch at any other season. It really seems that 
 one forms a worse judgment (though the assertion may seem 
 paradoxical) of the human character in society when the true 
 sentiments of the mind are dissembled under false colours, 
 than when under the mask of folly they make themselves 
 amends for the habitual restraint in which the rules of society 
 hold them, well assured that they are less likely to be recog- 
 nised in proportion as they act with the freedom of unassumed 
 nature. 
 
 In some of the towns of Italy the period of the carnival is 
 a time of riot and sanguinary quarrels. It is here charac- 
 terised by a bustling joy and lively pleasure, yet tempered by 
 the politeness and natural suavity of the inhabitants. In these 
 public festivals the population for twenty leagues round are 
 collected without the least trouble or accident. The carnival 
 frequently lasts the whole season, that is, the three winter 
 months. This is the only period of the year when the theatres 
 are open at Rome. But at Florence two of them do not close 
 all the year, those of Pergola and Cocomero. During the car- 
 nival others are opened, in which a variety of pieces are per- 
 formed. Besides this the squares and the streets are filled with 
 rope-dancers and pantomimic performers of every kind, and 
 winter wears away in a round of amusements in which all 
 partake. 
 
 I shall not give a long list of all the particulars which com- 
 pose the character of this carnival, as it resembles in many 
 respects similar festivals in other cities. I shall only relate 
 what seemed to me peculiar to Florence; the description of 
 one day alone will be sufficient. 
 
 The carnival opens with the procession of the Befana, in the 
 midst of torches and Avith the noise of horns and drums 
 mingling with the noisy gaiety of the people. In the midst 
 appears a ludicrous colossal figure representing a woman, or 
 rather a sorceress, cloathed in flowing garments. The move- 
 ments of the figure are directed by a man who is not seen 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No. 6, Vol. IIL I 
 
5S Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 himself. As it traverses the streets it turns on every side to 
 terrify the children, Avhich it attacks even in the second storj'. 
 The enormous phantom called the Befana is all the year round 
 the bug-bear of the young Florentines, who, if they behave 
 ill, are threatened with its presence. When they have tra- 
 versed the city they stop on the bridge and throw the image 
 into the water amid the cries and imprecations of the multi- 
 tude. 
 
 The nurses of Florence al.«o call Befana, or Beffania, those 
 good or evil fairies which, according to them, enter the houses 
 by the chimney on the night of this festival. And children 
 suspend their cloaths above the hearths that the fairies may 
 fill their pockets with cakes in proportion as they have behaved 
 themselves well or ill. 
 
 I shall not endeavour to account for the procession of the 
 Befana from the saturnalia, or any other ancient pagan rite. 
 I am rather of opinion with Maimi, that it is a reHc of the re- 
 presentation of the ancient mysteries, and is intended to com- 
 memorate the gifts of the magi : the black and ugly figures 
 represent the magi, and the presents which the children expect 
 to receive commemorate those offered to the Holy Family. 
 Whatever the true explanation may be, as soon as the Befana 
 announces the opening of the carnival every person in good 
 circumstances is never seen abroad but in his bauto, or domino, 
 which is a kind of black cloak. This mantle, Avhich crosses 
 in front, conceals all the other garments, and serves equally 
 well for the promenade, for company, for the stanza, or for the 
 theatre. The women wear a kind of high black bonnet, 
 shaded with plumes of the same colour : this is equally the 
 head-dress of all the females. Exercise, fresh air, and pleasure 
 animate their complexion and their eyes 5 and, mingled together 
 in this uniform dress, they appear still more striking. During 
 the days of the festival gaiety is pushed almost to excess, and 
 few persons can preserve a solemn or an indifferent coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 The men wear a hat, clasj)ed up in front and ornamented 
 with plumes. Though ordinarily they only wear a small 
 white mask fastened to the loop of their hats, or a pasteboard 
 nose, yet they are considered as disguised, and they pass before 
 their most intimate acquaintance without noticing them, and 
 even without the air of knowing them. They in return pre- 
 serve an equal distance, and thus both sides enjoy the greatest 
 liberty. 
 
 How well would this fashion suit some ];eople in society! 
 They might then pass their superiors without respect, their 
 benefactors without any mark of gratitude, their creditors 
 
TTie Carnival. 59 
 
 without being dunned, and their mistresses without agitation ! 
 Towards noon the fashionables assemble at the UJizii, an 
 arcade under the celebrated gallery. Here witty repartees are 
 exchanged, pleasantries cross one another, and bon mots cir- 
 culate. Laughter communicates itself like an infection, and 
 joy becomes universal. And, in the midst of the confused 
 murmurs and rapid movements the spirit of intrigue is not 
 idle, but assignations are made for an evening meeting at the 
 Corso, in the square of Santa Croce, and thence for a visit 
 to the theatre or the ball-room. 
 
 The Florentines, like the inhabitants of all southern coun- 
 tries, are great mimics ; they can do what they will with their 
 figures and countenances ; and frequently, by a mere change 
 of dress, they disguise themselves wonderfully, though their 
 figure is seen. A young man disguised himself and walked 
 for many days in the most frequented streets without a single 
 person of his acquaintance recognising him. He dressed him- 
 self as an Abbe, in a little mantle ; his hair, which was black, 
 and had been usually combed high on the forehead, was curled, 
 combed back over the head, tied in a knot behind, and pow- 
 dered. Naturally pale, he rouged himself carefully, aufl, to 
 conceal the thinness of his cheeks, he put a ball of ivory on 
 each side of his mouth. In this state he gravely met his ac- 
 quaintance, stopped before them, and boldly eyed them, while 
 they supposed that this grave personage (for the balls of ivory 
 prevented him from laughino) was an absolute stranger. 
 
 Sometimes, in addition to this little mask, a strange-shaped 
 nose is added, which forms a strong contrast with the other 
 features. Some masks are made from wax moulded on the 
 human face, and afterwards tinted by portrait-painters so as to 
 represent well-known faces, while the wearer imitates the 
 dress, countenance, gestures, and even tone of voice of the 
 original, in a manner which almost deceives you. 
 
 Other masquerades imitate the costume of the ancient 
 statues ; thus we saw the Capitoline Juno walking arm in arm 
 with Silenus, and Diana entering with the Apollo Belvidere. 
 
 The square of Santa Croce, however, is the great rendezvous 
 of the masks. Its length, and the beauty of the palaces which 
 surround it, fit it for the theatre of the festivals which are given 
 in it, and which were formerly more frequent. Here were 
 tiltings, and tourneys, and races, and lastly games at foot-ball. 
 We have descriptions of many of these festivals ; and, amongst 
 others, of a magnificent masquerade given by Cosmo I. in the 
 carnival of 1565: the carnival of 1615 has been engraved by 
 Callot, and many others have exercised the graver of La Bella. 
 The taste for these amusements was so great that during the 
 
60 Castellan's Tra'veh'm Italy. 
 
 reign of Ferdinand II. and in the space of five months, six 
 f^tes of different kinds were given, each more magnificent 
 than the preceding. 
 
 The square of Santa Croce is surrounded with a boundary 
 of chains, which leave sufficient space for the passage of car- 
 riages before the houses. On certain occasions amphitheatres 
 are raised, round which also carriages can drive. The square 
 was thus laid out in 1/38 for the last festival of the Calzio or 
 foot-ball, which has been engraved by Gioseppe Zocchi. 
 This print gives a good idea of the masquerades of Florence. 
 Besides the harlequins and punchinellos, which the French 
 have in such numbers, the other characters are very various 
 and well kept up. 
 
 All ranks, without exception, are turned into ridicule. A 
 carriage filled with porters has a judge dressed in along robe 
 and large wig, for a coachman. A physician is mounted on a 
 lean ass, with panniers and cages filled with cats, and carrying 
 a long staff", from wiiich some large dead rats are suspended, 
 while a scroll on the top of it bears the words Remedi da topi, 
 ' antidotes against' rats :' to these may be added doctors with 
 asses' heads, &c. The spectators themselves form a spectacle ; 
 the windows of the houses, and the balconies of the palaces, 
 are all ornamented with rich tapestry, and graced with brilliant 
 company. The people cover the tiles of the houses, and on 
 these aerial theatres engage in games, from which Italian con- 
 fidence and address take away all danger, and which afford a 
 very diverting appearance. 
 
 The spectacle which we ourselves saw was very agreeable. 
 The carriages, which throng the road, give great brilliancy to 
 the scene ; they are filled with masks who answer the joy and 
 acclamations of the multitude by throwing them cakes and 
 confetti, and by sprinkling showers of perfumed water from 
 little syringes towards the spectators who line the windows and 
 the balconies : some of the carriages Contain musicians, and 
 others are in the shape of triumphal cars, ornamented with 
 different symbols. 
 
 I shall only mention one of these masquerades, where luxury 
 was united to good taste, and the contrivance appeared to me 
 new and ingenious : the car, drawn by twelve beautiful horses 
 richly caparisoned, represented Olympus ornamented with 
 foliage, and on which stood the principal heathen deities, sur- 
 rounded by nymphs and rural gods, and a numerous orchestra. 
 Jupiter occupied the summit of the mountain, seated on the 
 extended wings of an eagle, and enveloped with clouds, 
 whilst Apollo and the Muses were singing and reciting some 
 sonnets, copies of which were thrown amongst the crowd, and 
 
Tlie Carnival. 61 
 
 in the midst of the deafening- noise of the musical instruments 
 Jupiter M^as perceived to be agitated on his throne of clouds. 
 He shortly leaves the summit of the mountain, rises majestically 
 in the air, and sails along amid the applause of the wondering 
 multitude, on whom he lances his artificial thunder, which, as 
 it falls, changes into serpents; he still ascends, and as the last 
 rays of the sun shine upon him he vanishes from the e^yes of 
 the enchanted crowd, who load with prolonged applause the 
 contrivers of a spectacle as splendid ^s it is ingenious. 
 
 The inhabitants of Olympus did not disdain to mingle in the 
 evening with simple mortals, and to appear at a masked ball 
 which was given at the theatre of la Pergola ; where we had 
 the pleasure of finding ourselves in the company of the muses, 
 who, forgetting the sanctity of their former existence, gave 
 themselves up to pleasure and joy. Here we beheld the sage 
 Lucina transformed into the youngest of the graces, Venus 
 here quitted the mask of Minerva, though still as wise as be- 
 fore, while Juno tempered the majesty of heaven's queen 
 with sweetness and affability. 
 
 The assembly of the Stanze was one of the most agreeable 
 for select company ; though none but masks were admitted, 
 the door-keeper suffered none to pass but whom he knew : 
 the sagacity of this man was wonderful — though you disguised 
 your voice, and altered your walk, th6 door-keeper instinc- 
 tively apprised, as it were, of the approach of an intruder, 
 suffered you to proceed no further. This tact, this nice dis- 
 crimination, though 1 believe it is perfectly mechanical, and 
 common to many individuals in Italy, was one of the things 
 which particularly excited my attention ; this rare faculty, the 
 mark of a more perfect organization, explains the facility with 
 which the Italians execute all their undertakings — a facility 
 which astonishes other nations, amongst whom such works 
 are only the result of time, study, and reflexion. 
 
 The denomination of stanze or saloons, is applied to an es- 
 tablishment formed by the middle ranks of the city, in oppo- 
 sition to the cazina of the nobility; the latter, indeed, only 
 comprises a small number of the commimity, and the nobles 
 frequently abandon it for the stanze of the citizens, where 
 more freedom and gaiety reign than in their own circle, over 
 which, it is said, the pretensions of etiquette throw a coldness 
 and constraint ; the founders of the stanze bear all the ex- 
 pense, and admit such persons as are presented to them ; 
 here, for conversation, there are various rooms, which are 
 filled with good company; here are news-rooms, billiard- 
 rooms, ball-rooms, and also a garden; in short, nothing is 
 wanting to render the place agreeable j the evening flies in a 
 
62 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 circle of varied and decent amusements ; the building com- 
 municates with one of the theatres, so you may walk thither 
 under the arcade and hear a song, return and eat an ice, join 
 in conversation, or figure in a dance. 
 
 This establishment, where manners are respected, and 
 where fashion reigns, supplies the place of our Athenaeums, 
 and other places of public amusement ; every stranger of 
 respectability is received with distinction : thus means are 
 discovered, laoth instructive and amusing, of employing the 
 long evenings of winter. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 The Palazzo Pitti — The Gallery of Florence. 
 
 1 HE celebrated gallery of Florence is commonly the first 
 object which attracts the attention of strangers, and this is 
 too frequently all they see of the city : it seems that all their 
 interest is concentrated in this museum ; but ere they have 
 well examined it, the colossal idea of Rome crosses their 
 minds, and they hasten thither as the object of their desire, 
 observing few of the objects of curiosity on their route. 
 
 I have paid considerable attention, during my stay here, to 
 the subject of Tuscan architecture, and to the exterior cha- 
 racter of the principal monuments of Florence ; in this study 
 I was much favoured by the beauty of the season which is here 
 called winter, and which from the softness of the temperature 
 would be esteemed summer in other countries; in fact, till 
 February the weather has been constantly serene, and the 
 cold so little perceptible, that I have not omitted my usual 
 custovn of sketching in the open air; sometimes, indeed, the 
 heat of the sun has been so great, that 1 have been com- 
 pelled to shelter myself beneath the foliage of the ever-green 
 trees, which give a false yet pleasing appearance of spring to 
 the landscape. 
 
 I have been very much delighted with the delicious gardens 
 of Boboli, which are situated on the hill commanding the Pa- 
 lazzo Pitti, the usual residence of the Grand Dukes. 
 
 The palace is connected with the gardens by means of a 
 large sort of amphitheatre, in the middle of which rises an 
 obelisk of Egyptian granite ; this amphitheatre is composed 
 of white marble, and the steps are supported by balustrades, 
 and surmounted by niches containing statues an(l vases, which 
 are finely relieved by the dark back-ground of ever-green 
 
TTie Gallery of Florence. 63 
 
 verdure. The gardens, planted under the directions of Tri- 
 bolo, and of the ingenious Buontalenti, are ornamented with 
 monuments of architecture and sculpture, distributed by Va- 
 sari and Giovanni di Bologna. The distribution of the gar- 
 dens into various terraces, which are gained by flights of steps, 
 offers a fine contrast of lines, and different points of views of 
 great richness. 
 
 As yet Me have had neither ice nor snow, and I have not 
 yet felt melancholy at the sight of those sombre clouds, which 
 shade the face of heaven for so considerable a period of the 
 year in the north of France ; we have yet no need of fires 
 and in the house in which I live, as indeed in all the others in 
 the city, the kitchen chimney is the only one. It is onlv 
 within these few years, that one or two others have been added 
 in the Duke's palace, less from necessity than from curiosity. 
 If at any time they feel cold they U'^e a brazier of copper, 
 sometimes of silver, in which they burn charcoal prepared 
 from the wood of the olive tree, the fumes from which are 
 not considered prejudicial. This brazier is called veggio, and 
 they sometimes carry it with them when they walk abroad, 
 though at most the cold is not two degrees below the freezing 
 point. 
 
 At last the bad season has commenced, and it has termi- 
 nated, as is frequently the case, with heavy showers, which 
 have lasted without intermission for three weeks. 
 
 We do not see here as in the other towns of Italy, porticoes 
 or covered galleries along the houses ; but the inconvenience 
 of sudden showers is guarded against by providing in various 
 quarters of the town open logge : you may also prevent yourself 
 being wet if you Avalk close to the houses, as you are pro- 
 tected by the projecting roofs, which are thus constructed to 
 protect the front of the building from showers, and to ward 
 off the rays of the sun. The streets, however, have one great 
 advantage, being paved with large and Avell joined flags, so 
 that the rain runs easily off them, and they are dry again in 
 half an hour. 
 
 I have employed all the time the rainy season continued, in 
 an examination of the celebrated gallery of Florence ; as I 
 surveyed it my admiration scarce knew any bounds, and I felt 
 penetrated with veneration and gratitude towards the family 
 of the Medici, who first set the example of such a noble em- 
 ployment of power and riches. 
 
 The arts always follow the fortune of empires : borii at the 
 same time, they experience the same vicissitudes, and their 
 progress is equally regulated by circumstances. Flourishing 
 in the bosom of peace, their flowers have sometimes been. 
 
64 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 blasted by political storms, or have withered under the in- 
 fluence of bad taste or of court corruption. They only bear 
 their true fruit in a time of public prosperity, and under the 
 protection of a wise and pacific g-overnment. What has chiefly 
 contributed to expand the taste, and to promote the study of 
 the arts, has been the establishment of museums, where the 
 great works of ancient and modern times are collected. The 
 Gallery of Florence, without doubt the most celebrated of all, 
 merits a particular description; and, at the same time, I shall 
 endeavour to give a sketch of its origin, of the vicissitudes 
 which it has experienced, and of the successive additions which 
 have been made to it. 
 
 The ancients, like the moderns, were much attached to the 
 collecting of curiosities, and the remains of antiquity. Both 
 in Greece and Rome they ornamented in this manner their 
 porticoes, their temples, their schools, their libraries, and even 
 their baths. But this attachment to objects of art was unknown 
 to other nations, which possessed neither knowledge, taste, nor 
 riches ; and it was extinguished even in Italy during the long 
 ages of barbarism. 
 
 It was the Medici, in the fifteenth century, when their family 
 possessed no other influence but that of virtue and opulence, 
 who awakened the genius, and afforded protection to the arts 
 of peace. And, after they filled the throne of Tuscany, they 
 contributed all in their power to the regeneration of Letters 
 and Arts, and had the glory of giving their name to this me- 
 morable epoch. Cosmo the Elder, named by a decree, and 
 still more by the voice of pubhc gratitude, the Father of his 
 Country, extended his paternal care to scholars and artists. 
 
 The sons of Cosmo, educated in the midst of a polished court, 
 imbibed there a taste for study, and transmitted it to their 
 descendants, and even to their people. 
 
 Giovanni de Medici encouraged these pursuits by his ex- 
 ample, but a premature death carried him off". Piero de Me- 
 dici, the second son of Cosmo, though under adverse circum- 
 stances, threw some lustre on the arts, and encouraged them 
 by his liberality. 
 
 But it was Lorenzo, called the Magnificent, who opened, in 
 his garden near the church of St. Mark, that famous school 
 which had such a powerftil effect on the re-establishment of 
 the arts. He filled this place with a variety of specimens of 
 both ancient and modern art ; so that the logge, the alleys, and 
 the halls, were ornamented with statues, paintings, designs, 
 cartoons, and models, — the productions of the ablest masters, 
 as Donatello, Bmnelleschi, Masaccio, Paulo Ucello, Fra Gio 
 AngeUco, Filippo Lippi, &c. This school was open to all the 
 young painters, sculptors, and architects. 
 
Gallei^y of Florence. 65 
 
 At the same periods the museums Estense and Gonzaga were 
 estabhshed. Nevertheless, the Medicean collection was still 
 the most useful and complete. After the death of Lorenzo, 
 his son, Leo X. extended great encouragement to literature 
 and the arts ; but the property of his brother Piero became 
 the prey of his ungrateful fellow citizens. I shall not detail 
 the disgrace and flight of the latter. — He left behind him the 
 greatest part of his property. — His palace was sacked, and 
 three thousand medals of gold and silver, without mentioning 
 those of brass, which were probably equally curious — the vases 
 of agate — the beautiful cameos — and a crowd of other curiosi- 
 ties, were stolen and dispersed. 
 
 Notwithstanding this misfortune, a servant of the Medici, 
 who remained faithful to his trust, preserved, at the peril of 
 his life, the precious objects which had been confided to his 
 care. This man was the father of the celebrated Baccio Ban- 
 dinello. But, at length, forced to fly, he buried the cameos, 
 the antique figures of bronze, and the other riches -, and this 
 proof of fidelity did not remain without recompense when his 
 patrons returned. 
 
 After the assassination of Alessandro de Medici by Lorenzo, 
 one of the same family, the houses both of the victim and 
 murderer were pillaged. They contained a great number of 
 Greek and Latin MSS., statues of marble and bronze, and other 
 valuable articles. The animosity of the people was such, that 
 these palaces were completely razed ; and the open spot, on 
 which they formerly stood, was called the Traitors' Street. 
 
 Cosmo I. Grand Duke of Tuscany, collected the scattered 
 relics of this once precious collection, and rapidly augmented 
 it by commanding a strict search to be made throughout his 
 territories for the monuments of antiquity, and at the same 
 time increasing it by the acquisition of many private cabinets. 
 The success of these researches was considerable. At Arezzo, 
 the celebrated inscription of Appius Claudius was discovered ; 
 and a little time afterwards, the Chimera, of bronze, a most 
 singular and curious object. In the ruins of a temple, a Pallas 
 of bronze was found, of beautiful workmanship. Cosmo was 
 rejoiced at these discoveries, and with the fruits of them orna- 
 mented his cabinet in the Palazzo Vecchio ; but, having pur- 
 chased the Palazzo Pitti, he made it the place of his abode, 
 and transferred thither this collection, to which he made in- 
 cessant additions. 
 
 At this time many individuals, desirous of gaining the good 
 graces of the sovereign, or induced by a disinterested love of 
 the arts, and desirous of contributing to their progress, enriched 
 Voyages and Travels, No, 5, Vol, III, K 
 
66 ■ Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 the Museum of Florence with many valuable articles, ancient 
 
 and modern. 
 
 It was this prince Avho first conceived the idea of the Gal- 
 lery which now contains the Museum Florentinum, and which 
 has been carried to such a degree of magnificence by his suc- 
 cessors. This vast edifice owes its origin to a design of uniting 
 the ancient palace of the Republic to the Palazzo Pitti. Va- 
 sari executed this beautiful and useful work. The corridor, 
 which passes over a bridge and through a part of the city, 
 leading from the old palace to the habitation of the sovereign, 
 was built in 1564, in the space of five months. 
 
 But this gallery became insufficient to contain all the objects 
 of art whichjncreased so rapidly. The Grand Duke Francis 
 continued the labours of his predecessor ; and, on the scite of 
 some of the neighbouring houses, he added to the gallery some 
 magnificent halls. The ceiling of one of these halls was co- 
 vered with mother-of-pearl. And yet this cabinet is more or- 
 namented by the beautiful objects it contains. 
 
 The Grand Duke Francis considerably augmented the col- 
 lection of medals, and added all the antiques he could procure. 
 
 In 1552 he received twenty-six marble statues, which had 
 been in the Vatican ; but which that scrupulous pontiff', Pius V. 
 dismissed, from a principle of religion j but not wishing them 
 to be transferred into ecclesiastical hands, he had refused them 
 to Ferdinando de Medici, on account of his being a cardinal. 
 Amongst these statues were the seven muses, without the least 
 traces of any part of the figures having been restored. 
 
 The Cardinal Ferdinando, the brother of the Grand Duke, 
 had got possession at Rome of the villa and gardens of the 
 Medici. Hei'e a second Museum was established, which was 
 fated one day to increase the richness of that of Florence. It is 
 sufficient to mention the Venus de Medici, and the statues of 
 Niobe and her children, to appreciate the value of this col- 
 lection. In 1569 the two brothers divided between them the 
 collection of the bishop of Pavia, consisting of fifty-nine statues. 
 
 Cosmo II. who had bad health, did not contribute much to 
 the embellishment of this gallery. But, in the long reign of 
 his successor Ferdinando II. many additions were made to it. 
 The Cardinal Leopold, the brother of Ferdinando, formed a rich 
 and numerous collection of pictures and sketches, which, to 
 their beauty, added the merit of antiquity. They extended as 
 far back as the restoration of the arts and the time of the Greek 
 painters. The cardinal also possessed a collection of medals, 
 cameos, &c. Cosmo III. added many pictures to the museum. 
 
 The Genius of the house of Medici, ere totally extinguished, 
 seemed to wish to establish its rights to the gratitude of men 
 
Museum Florentinum. " ^ 
 
 by some durable monument. Giovanni Gastone, the last scion 
 of this ilhistrious family, commenced the magnificent descrip- 
 tion of this g-allery, which is known by the name of the 
 Museum Florentinum. 
 
 The new sovereigns of Tuscany, princes of the house of 
 Lorraine, contributed to the embellishment and completion of 
 this admirable collection. In the year 1762, however, it was 
 on the point of being totally destroyed by a fire, which burst 
 out with great violence. It lasted many hours, extending its 
 ravages into the western corridor, and consuming a considerable 
 part of the building. The fire arose in a chimney which had 
 been imprudently constructed over the Zogge de Lmizi; and 
 it was fortunate that the fire commenced at this extremity, 
 where there were fewer valuable articles than on the other 
 side; but it was extinguished with the loss of only a few of 
 these precious objects. 
 
 Under the government of the Archduke Pietro Leopoldo, the 
 legislator and reformer of Tuscany, the Gallery of Florence 
 assumed a new appearance. The great fault of the gallery was 
 a want of classification. Under his directions, many more halls 
 were built, and a new flight of steps to ascend to them ; and 
 he added to the museum the most precious ornaments of the 
 other palaces. He likewise sent to Rome for the statues from 
 the Villa Medicis, and more especially for those of Niobe and 
 her children. By his exertions every class of objects had their 
 distinct place, they were found M'ithout trouble, and classed so 
 as to satisfy all tastes. He was rigorous in his selection, and 
 admitted nothing that was not worthy of being preserved. 
 The prince himself Avatched over the execution of his projects, 
 and animated the workmen by his presence. One knows not 
 which most to admire, — the grandeur of the enterprize, or the 
 celerity of the execution. In 1780, in the space of one year, 
 new buildings were added, and divided into halls ; while, by 
 this means, the communication was rendered more easy, and 
 they were ornamented with stuccoes, gilding, paintings, and 
 marbles; the tapestry and other drapery was renewed; the 
 statues and pictures were ]:>laced in other situations, cleaned, 
 or restored; whilst every thing was ranged according to the 
 system of a library, where every volume has its own separate 
 and distinct place. And this metamorphosis was executed in 
 so rapid a manner, that travellers, ere they had completed the 
 tour of Italy, as they repassed through Florence, thought they 
 beheld a new gallery, and were full of admiration at a change 
 which almost appeared magical. 
 
68 Castellan's Travels in Italy, 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Festival of May — Arrive at Fiesole — Its History— -Its Antiquities. 
 
 L HE traces of winter have disappeared in the space of a few 
 days, and as if by the power of magic the balmy breath of 
 Favonius has dissipated the frost, and changed all at once the 
 aspect of the country ; vegetation shews itself, the sap begins 
 to rise in the trees, and the ground is covered with spontane- 
 ous verdure. 
 
 It is now time for me to quit the city, and commence my 
 picturesque excursions — it becomes my pleasure, my care, 
 and my duty, to assist in the awakening of nature. 
 
 I passed the gate of Santa-croce, and the mills and fall of 
 the Arno, and I wandered sloAvly along the shady banks of the 
 liver. What a fresh and beautiful situation ! Through the 
 bowers of fruit-bearing trees and the boughs of lilacs, I per- 
 ceived the waters sparkling against the banks, or rolling 
 peaceably amongst the flexible branches of the osiers, which 
 bent over the current. Farther on, on a hill covered with 
 vines, rose some elegant casinos, which broke the blue line of 
 the rocks of Fiesole, crowned with their Tuscan walls, re- 
 markable for the lofty tower which serves as a belfry for the 
 cathedral ; nearer me the fields, divided by rows of reeds, 
 presented an appearance of varied cultivation; I could not 
 perceive any one at work, and I met none but villagers 
 clothed in their gayest habits, who seemed more intent on 
 their pleasures than their rustic labours. 
 
 At last I arrived at a farm-house ; a young tree had just 
 been planted before the door; knots of ribbands and little 
 fillets of tinsel, were fluttering in the air, suspended from the 
 branches, and sparkling through the leaves ; every bough 
 bore some ornament, and a crown of flowers shaded the win- 
 dow of the house. The air was echoing with the strains of a 
 serenade, when the casement which served as a door opened, 
 and three beautiful girls, fresh as the season, and neatly dressed, 
 laughingly made their appearance to greet their lovers. 
 
 This pastoral scene reminded me that it was May-day, 
 Calendi-maggio, a festal day in the spring of life, and at the 
 name of which the heart throbs, even amid the coldness of 
 age. In the gaiety and liveliness of this rustic sport the 
 
Festival of May-day — Fiesole. 69 
 
 youth of both sexes form a chain-dance around the May-pole ; 
 they pursue each other with rapid and well-timed steps, 
 whilst their relatives prepare a feast in some shady spot. 
 
 As soon as they saw me the master of the house advanced, 
 and with an unembarrassed air invited me to partake of 
 their rural repast. I hesitated ; my host's youngest daughter 
 observed me, and separating herself from the group of dancers, 
 she gave me her hand. It was impossible to resist the sim- 
 plicity of this action ; I yielded ; she led me towards her 
 companions, and the chain, in which I now formed a link, was 
 recommenced with double joy and vivacity. 
 
 At the Calendi-maggio, rustic improvisators, dressed in a 
 fantastic style, recite tales and legends for the amusement of 
 their audience — I heard the history of Ferragosto ; the songs, 
 which are composed on this occasion, are called Maggeolate ; 
 and the tree, whose branches, adorned as I have mentioned, 
 overshadow the windows of the young maidens, is called 
 maio. The festival, which is only preserved in the country, 
 has given place in town, to concerts, dances, and entertain- 
 ments, which last several days. There are numberless mag- 
 giolate, composed by a crowd of authors, and even by Lo- 
 renzo the Magnificent. 
 
 As I proceeded I j^erceived before me the city of Fiesole, 
 situated on the table-land of the mountain, and between the 
 two swellings of the hills ; I saw its public square, its ancient 
 cathedral, the more modern buildings of the archiepisco- 
 pal palace and the Academy ; lower down a road, the wind- 
 ings of which follow the bend of the hill, leads along the 
 rocks which supported the ancient Etruscan fortress, where 
 we now. behold the church, the convent, and the vast garden 
 of the monks of the order of St. Francis. 
 
 On the side opposite the plain of Florence the gazer's eye 
 rests on the deep but elevated pass, through which the boiling 
 waters of the Mugnone forces its way through a channel of 
 rock and marble ; the rapid declivity causes no apprehension 
 of danger, for its force spends itself on its own steep banks : 
 evergreen woods clothe these mountains, which join the 
 chain of the Apennine Alps, which display in the distance 
 their summits capped with snow. 
 
 The most interesting prospects is that which includes the 
 principal remains of Fiesole. This view appeared to me so 
 beautiful, that, wishing to give my entertainers a proof of my 
 gratitude for their kindness, I resolved to adorn the room with 
 paintings in distemper, of ivhich this view formed the most 
 conspicuous part. There may seem a little vanity in mention- 
 ing this fact in my letters, but I possessed so few occasions of 
 
70 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 exercising ray pencil on a large scale, that this was really an 
 epoch in my pictorial career. 
 
 On the hills of Fiesole I^ beheld the beautiful skies of Italy 
 in all their purity, and there I experienced the plenitude of 
 those sweet and vivid emotions, which the artist enjoys when 
 youth and inspiration, and the desire of fame are his. 
 
 Mention is made, by the ancient authors, of Fiesole, but its 
 niins afford no means of judging of Avhat it formerly was — 
 temples, palaces, theatres are all swept away ; even the tombs 
 are violated ; the inscriptions, the monuments of art, have 
 been all destroyed or carried away, and even the traces of its 
 former glory are eclipsed. 
 
 The origin of Fiesole is involved in the inextricable mazes 
 of ancient fable ; but its Avails display, notwithstanding so 
 many assaults, a style of building of the most remote antiquity, 
 and seem to prove the prodigious force of the men who con- 
 structed them ; the walls are not composed of ordinary and 
 evenly wrought stones, but of immense masses of rock, irre- 
 gularly shaped, and artfully placed one upon another : in 
 short, the solidity of these erections, and the elevated scite 
 which they occupy, seem like the work of the elder race of 
 mankind terrified at the tremendous catastrophe of the deluge. 
 Aqueducts, erected probably at the same period, carried to 
 Fiesole the waters of Mount Reggi, several miles distant; 
 and, although they were broken down in the time of Cassar, 
 as Villani tells us, yet their remains dispersed along the coun- 
 try, resemble real rocks in magnitude, and may be confounded 
 with them from their rude and savage appearance. Fiesole 
 was one of the twelve cities of Etruria; the ancients praised 
 the serenity of its atmosphere, and the salubrity of its waters 
 and baths, which were reported to be a cure for many mala- 
 dies. This city had the glory of resisting, though unsuccess- 
 fully, and of fatiguing the armies of Rome, on which occa- 
 sion they gave proofs of the greatest courage. We perceive 
 in the writings of Livy and the other Roman authors how 
 formidable the inhabitants of Fiesole and the rest of Etnu'ia 
 were esteemed ; all the forces of Rome were employed at 
 various times to subdue them, and several dictators were 
 created for the purpose of allaying the fear which this people 
 inspired. The inhabitants of Fiesole distinguished themselves 
 on several occasions, amongst them, one of the most remark- 
 able was when, on the discovery of Catiline's conspiracy by 
 Cicero, the seditious citizen, compelled to seek safety in flight, 
 escaped from Rome accompanied by his fellow conspirators ; 
 they fled to Fiesole, the only city which by its formidable 
 situation, and the courage of its inhabitants, was capable of 
 
Fiesole. 71 
 
 resisting the Roman arms. Catiline indeed did not hesitate to 
 hazard an engagement with the consul Caius Antonius, the 
 result of which was a doubtful victory, although the brave 
 citizens of Fiesole were few in number and almost without 
 arms. The fortune of Rome at length triumphed, when the 
 leaders of the Etrurian army, mortally wounded, fell upon the 
 mangled heaps of tlieir soldiers' bodies. The victory was, 
 however, almost as dear to the conquerors as to the conquered, 
 and at Rome smiles struggled with tears when the news of 
 the battle arrived there. 
 
 In the year 405, Fiesole, assisted by Florence, opposed the 
 attacks of Radagaisius king of the Goths, and Rome was de- 
 livered from the yoke of that people, under the weight of which 
 Italy had so often groaned. It was on this occasion that the 
 Florentines consecrated a temple to St. Reparata, as a contem- 
 porary historian relates. Saint Ambrose had promised fre- 
 quently to visit his beloved Florentines, and, during the time 
 that Radagaisius was besieging Florence, the holy Prelate, 
 who had died a little time previously, appeared in a dream to 
 one of the inhabitants, and promised them deliverance on the 
 morrow. This man communicated to his fellow citizens his 
 vision, which inspired them with great courage. Accordingly 
 Stilicon, the imperial general, made his appearance with his 
 army, and a division arising amongst the Goths, their defeat 
 was rendered still more certain. As this victory took place on 
 the birth-day of the Virgin Martyr, St. Reparata, the Floren- 
 tines raised a temple in her honour, which was ornamented 
 with the trophies borne from their enemies. 
 
 Desirous of enriching this cluu'ch with some relics of the 
 Virgin Saint whose body was deposited with the monks of 
 Jeano, a little town in the Terra di Lavouro, they applied in 
 1352 to the king of Naples, who ordered the monks to deliver 
 up an arm of their Patroness. Grieved at a command M'hich 
 obliged them to do so great an outrage to the remains of the 
 martyr, the good monks sent in its stead a piece of wood so 
 exquisitely carved, and so well imitating nature, that the fraud 
 was not discovered until several years afterwards by a jeweller 
 who had been directed to make a rich reliquary to contain the 
 precious and holy limb. 
 
 The subjection of Fiesole was the means of Florence re- 
 ceiving amongst her citizens some very noble and distinguished 
 families. It may be sufficient to mention the Pazzi, the 
 Strozzi, the Guadagni, and the Adimari. The destruction of 
 that city also furnished Florence with innumerable columns 
 and other materials for the erection of beautiful edifices j and 
 from the same place she carried away many statues and sculp 
 
72 Castellan*s Travels in Italy. 
 
 tured marbles to adorn her temples and her palaces. It is 
 very probable that the four columns which support the arched 
 roof of the gallery of the Baptistry, are the remains of some 
 monument in Fiesole, and even at this day, they find in the 
 soil of its environs, very rich materials. 
 
 Fiesole was one of the first cities after Rome that embraced 
 Christianity. She has produced a great number of philoso- 
 phers and literary men besides several celebrated artists both 
 in sculpture and painting. The city of Fiesole may say with 
 pride " here rose my high towers and my impregnable walls — 
 there lay the baths of Catiline — yonder w^ere the temples of 
 Jupiter Fulminans, and of Mars — in that place stood the 
 college of Augurs and the palace of the ancient kings," and 
 even yet the relics of those indestructable walls, the steep rocks, 
 and the precipices which seem to be the vast tomb in which the 
 ancient city is buried, inspire sensations of awe and venera- 
 tion. On the ruins of the temple of Jupiter there now rises 
 a church where the All-powerful God is worshipped, and the 
 college of Augurs is replaced by an Academy, where they no 
 longer teach the superstitious art of reading the future, but the 
 truth and holiness of the Christian doctrine. The bathing 
 waters, formerly so celebrated, still run amidst the most de- 
 lightfiil villas and gardens of Tuscany. These beautiful re- 
 treats no longer re-echo the sound of the Avarlike trumpet, 
 but the sweet accents of joy j and Fiesole has exchanged the 
 splendour of military renown for the more durable gloi-y of 
 peace and the arts. 
 
 The most remarkable antiquities of Fiesole are the colossal 
 fragments of the old Etruscan walls, of which a few vestiges 
 only remain, particularly near the monastery of Saint Jerome, 
 which was converted into a villa by the Counts Bardi, and 
 also the aqueduct, the ruins of which may be seen near the 
 convent of La Doccia. The vast subterraneous chambers near 
 the cathedral, and which are called the Biiche delle Fate, the 
 fairies hiding-places, are worthy of the attention of the tra- 
 veller. 
 
Country around Fiesole. . 7S 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 Description of the Country about Fiesole — Oratory of John of 
 Bologna — The Convent of La Doccia — Monte Senario — The 
 House of PoUtiano — The Villa Salviati — The Retreat of the 
 Decameron — Topaja. 
 
 Xn the midst of pleasant and select society, solely occupied 
 in games and diversified pleasures incessantly renewed, and 
 which seemed to borrow something of the vivacity of the air 
 which we breathed on these heights, I yet felt a desire of soli- 
 tude. There we find enjoyment, less expansive perhaps, but 
 more deep, and in which a slight tinge of melancholy is 
 mingled, Avhich is not without its charms. 
 
 Thus lonely, and with a book which served me as the text, 
 and so to speak, as the vehicle of my thoughts, I slowly tra- 
 versed the perfumed hills of Fiesole, under the shade of woods 
 of pine and sycamore. I frequently passed the hours of de- 
 clining day, in contemplating at a distance the plain of Flo- 
 rence, with its })alaces, its high towers, and its domes, coloured 
 by the vivid light of a sun, cloudless and ardent even in its 
 setting. The complete absence of every vapour permitted me 
 to see distant objects with such clearness, that I could trace 
 every detail, and I almost conceived that I must hear the con- 
 fused murmur of voices and the noise of mechanical occupa- 
 tions amongst the inhabitants of the capital. This prospect 
 was rendered still more interesting by contrasting it with the 
 peaceable shades by which I was sheltered. I placed a just 
 value on the tumultuous pleasure of the town, Avlien I com- 
 pared them with the silent freshness of the country. This 
 addressed itself eloquently to my heart, and immersed me in 
 that sweet meditation which is the fruit of a tranquil spirit, 
 of a feeling of happiness, and health, and calm joy, or rather 
 of the pleasure one experiences in youth when the passions 
 are slumbering and our being is in perfect harmony with every 
 thing around us. 
 
 The day faded, and I heard nothing but the light murmur 
 of the winds of night, as they swept through the foliage 
 mingled with the rippling of a fountain, and the expressive 
 chirping of birds, which, flying here and there, answered one 
 another, and seemed in haste to take advantage of the remains 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No, 5, Vol. III. h 
 
74 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 of day-light, to search for their food and a secure retreat for 
 the night. 
 
 I quitted this place with regret, resolving, in gratitude for 
 the sensations which I had there experienced, to visit it again, 
 and to enrich my port-folio with several fine views which I 
 had remarked there. 
 
 Guided by the twilight, and shortly afterwards by the beams 
 of the moon, which seemed to [rise most majestically amid a 
 crowd of stars, which appeared far more brilliant and numerous 
 than in our climate, 1 followed a path which I supposed would 
 lead me into the road to Fiesole ; when suddenly I distinguished 
 the sounds of rustic music, amongst which I heard the notes 
 of the bagpipe, the guitar, and the zampogna. Attracted by 
 the charm of this melody, than which, when well executed by 
 the rustic performers in the depth of a wood, and amid the 
 solitude of night, nothing can be more agreeable, I beheld 
 all at once a light shining through the trees. This led me to 
 the place where the rural concert was, and, guided by its light, 
 I arrived at a fountain, or rather a chapel, for beneath an 
 arch, supported by columns, I saw a painting of the Virgin 
 and the Infant Jesus, surrounded by cherubims and prostrate 
 angels. An abundant stream fell from a sculptured lion's head 
 which frowned under the painting, and flowed into the reser- 
 voirs which were placed at the sides of the edifice. A lamp, 
 suspended from the centre of the arch, rendered the scene 
 still more interesting. A whole family were imploring the 
 Divine grace for the recovery of an infant which its mother 
 held in her arms, covering it with tears and kisses ; the other 
 members of the family were praying with fervour, or clianting 
 hymns which they accompanied with their instruments. 
 
 If the reader can imagine the mingling of voices and music, 
 most simple and harmonious, with the sound of the dancing 
 waters flowing over the stones and along the green turf — the 
 light of the moon through the foliage — the clear lustre of the 
 lamp which gilded the figure of the virgin in the niche, and 
 shone in the reflexion of the crystal and moving waters, shed- 
 ding at the same time a light over the actors of this pious 
 scene — if he can imagine this scene more impressive as it was 
 unexpected, and so sweetly harmonizing with those serious 
 sensations which filled my heart — he will even then have only 
 a weak idea of the impression which I experienced. 
 
 At my approach, the good people rose from their prayers, 
 but I begged that I might mingle my intercessions with theirs. 
 The hymn was recommenced, and the voices of the young 
 girls, joined to those of musicians of every age, made one of 
 the most delicious concerts I ever enjoyed. 
 
Joiin of Boiogna—La Doccia. 7^ 
 
 The route of these villagers lay along the road to Fiesole. 
 As I accompanied them they related to me a crowd of miracles, 
 which they attributed to the virtues of those waters, and above 
 all, to the intercessions of the Madonna to whom they are con- 
 secrated. It is pleasing to behold the gifts of nature associated 
 with the name of their Author- — this is to attribute blessings 
 to their true source, and to awaken those consoling ideas of 
 mercy and protection, which nourish faith and inspire grati- 
 tude towards the Deity. 
 
 The chapel of this fountain, which I frequently revisited, is 
 one of the finest monuments of the kind. It presents a mix- 
 ture of antique and modern taste, which to me is very de- 
 lightful. It was ornamented, according to tradition, by John 
 of Bologna, Avho possessed a mansion in this neighbourhood. 
 He employed some fine materials, prociu'ed from an ancient 
 edifice, and he has arranged them with great taste. 
 
 I had promised to visit the convent of La Doccia, and I had 
 an opportunity, Avhile I was employed in sketching in this pic- 
 turesque spot, of becoming acquainted with its inhabitants, 
 who did not belie the good opinion which I had at first con- 
 ceived of them. 
 
 Pious, without affectation, one might perceive from their 
 manners, from their physiognomy, which was rather amiable 
 than austere, from the neatness and propriety of their gar- 
 ments, from the flowers which shaded the windows of their 
 cells, or which, placed in crystal vases, ornamented their church, 
 in short, from all the details of their domestic management 
 which was excellent and well mnderstood, one might perceive 
 that these monks did not neglect any of those innocent plea- 
 sures which their situation allowed. Indeed they apj:>eared 
 perfectly happy ; and doubtless they ^vould not have exchanged 
 their pleasant and peaceable life for the grandeur and pomp 
 which the world bestows upon its votaries. 
 
 The church, though small, possesses some objects worthy 
 of attention, such as the pictures of the great altar, and of 
 one of the chapels, which are from the pencil of Niccodemo 
 Ferrucci, a pupil of Passignano. 
 
 In front of the church runs a terrace, planted with large 
 cypress tress, which form, as it were, the peristyle of the 
 edifice. It is also surrounded with beautiful gardens. The 
 building, upon which these grounds are now suj)ported, for- 
 merly served as aqueducts, op perhaps as baths, and the streams 
 which yet wander through them give freshness to a vegeta- 
 tion which is extremely vigorous. The lines which the dif- 
 ferent stages of these ruins present, form combinations of 
 figures of which the effect is pleasing and picturesque. 
 
76 Castellan's Travels in Italy. '. 
 
 At some distance from Fiesole there is another monaster}", 
 of a very different character from that which I have just de- 
 scribed ; it is that of Monte Senario. 
 
 Isolated in the mountains, and removed from evei7 other 
 habitation, it occupies the centre of a wood of fir-trees, which 
 surround it on all sides and hide it from the view of those who 
 climb the steep side of the mountain. The pilgrims who travel 
 towards this sanctuary would easily lose their way over the 
 heaths and in the underwood were it not that little oratories, 
 which serve as stations and land-marks, had been erected at 
 short distances to point out the Avay. This place would serve 
 extremely well as the retreat of hermits who have completely 
 renounced the world, and who, relieved from their earthly 
 bonds, seem to have no other aim, by the isolated and skiey 
 spot which they have chosen, than to approach that Heaven 
 which they hope one time to enter, through sufferings and 
 privations of every kind, and the renunciation of all the sweets 
 of life. 
 
 The monks of La Doccia, on the contrary, seek Heaven by 
 a more practicable way. They do not resemble these austere 
 religionists, but rather those persons, who, disgusted with the 
 noisy pleasures of society, retire into an agreeable solitude to 
 enjoy the innocent delights of a country life. In quitting the 
 world they do not become misanthropists, and they still hold 
 commiuiication with their fellow-men, Avhen they administer 
 to them succour and consolation. 
 
 The origin of the convent of Monte Senario was as follows : — 
 Towards the middle of the thirteenth century Brother Giovanni 
 di Vicenza, a monk of the order of Preachers, and at this time 
 an eloquent and celebrated missionary, arrived at Bologna, 
 where he was soon surrounded by a multitude of the inhabit- 
 ants of the neighbouring towns aud villages. He converted 
 and reconciled many; he repressed the luxury of the women, 
 and he produced many other admirable effects by the preaching 
 of the word of God. This same Fra. Giovanni preached a 
 general peace in Italy; and the princes, magistrates, and 
 people, to the amount it is said of four hundred thousand 
 persons, entered into that engagement. Every one was ready 
 to embrace it, but, unfortunately, these good intentions lasted 
 only a few davs. The zealous missionary, proud of the ascen- 
 dancy which lie had acquired over his fellow-countryjiien, now 
 wished to become their master, and to gain the sovereignty. 
 His triumph did not last long : he was cast into prison with 
 his partizans, and soon afterwards exiled ; too late repenting 
 that he had not confined himself within the bounds of his 
 
Monte Senario. 77 
 
 sacred ministry, and convinced of the instability of all human 
 
 tbip,g-s. 
 
 Nevertheless, the seeds which he had scattered fructified in 
 the timorous minds of his disciples. Many persons, of various 
 conditions in life, adopted the monastic vow; and in 1233 seven 
 noble Florentines retired into the heart of the forest which 
 surrounded Monte Senario, and constructed, in the summit of 
 the mountain, cells, in wbich they might pass the lives of 
 anchorites. They called themselves the servants of the Virgin 
 Mary ; and they soon were followed by others who were 
 zealous in imitating- their example. Another Florentine, 
 Filippo Benizi, was a vig-orous propagator of this new order. 
 At th'iS day there may be seen within the walls of the convent 
 the seven grottoes of the founders, and also that of Benizi, who 
 was canonized and became the patron of the society. 
 
 There are some good paintings in the church. On the roof 
 Gabbiani, the best scholar of Dandini, a painter of the school 
 of Cortona, has represented the Virgin bestowing their habit 
 «n the founders of the order. This hermitage is most remark- 
 able as having been the retreat of many men of merit. 
 
 A contemplative life, which exalts the imagination and fixes 
 it constantly on one predominant object, or idea, which it 
 continually nourishes and examines, as it were, in every point 
 of view — this concentrated existence, directing its attention 
 towards only one study as its aim and end, gives birth to talent, 
 and carries it to its highest perfection. V^e might mention 
 the names of a crowd of celebrated people who have been 
 educated in the shade of the cloister, and who've happy dispo- 
 'sitions might never have been developed amid the tumult of 
 the world, and in an active life which might only have stunned 
 and distracted them. It is not, therefore, astonishing that the 
 hermitage of Monie Senario, the situation of which adapts it 
 so well for reflexion, and where the disti'action of the world is 
 5?o well avoided, should have produced many literary men and 
 artists. Amongst the latter may be mentioned Mascagni, who 
 in this monastery assumed the name of Arsenio ; andj. B. Ste- 
 phaneschi, who took the cowl in 1605. 
 
 My freqvient walks in the neighbourhood of Fiesole had not, 
 as was my custom, any determined aim ; I wandered at hazard, 
 and this mode of seeing and observing procured me much un- 
 expected pleasure, and many an agreeable surprise ; it furnished 
 me with contrasts which might have escaped me in a more 
 methodical route. The numerous villas which I passed par- 
 ticidarly attracted my attention, from a double motive of 
 interest — the historical facts which they recalled, and the pic- 
 turesque situations which they occupied. The environs of 
 
jrg Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 Fiesole indeed, so well known for the beauty of their prospects, 
 have been the retreat of numbers of celebrated men, who, in 
 the tranquillity of that place, have given themselves up to study 
 and reflexion. Amongst these may be mentioned the celebrated 
 Politian, who in one of his letters addressed to Marcilio Ficino 
 has described the situation of his villa at Fiesole, and which 
 reminds us of the modest but commodious habitation of Horace. 
 Thither he frequently retired to correct and complete his 
 writings, and from thence he addressed, in 1478, to Pandolfi 
 CoUenuccio, the Racconti Amatorii of Plutarch. 
 
 This house, which is not far from Fiesole, in a place re- 
 freshed by a fountain which flows underneath the thick shade, 
 and which the poet distinguished by the name of lucens fon- 
 ticulus, appears to be the same as the oratory which is called 
 Fonie lucente, and which was erected at the end of the seven- 
 teenth century in memory of a miractilous crucifix. In this 
 place Ant. Pellori, in 1733 painted his picture of the Resur- 
 rection. There also may be seen there a picture on wood, 
 bearing the date of 1398, which was brought from another 
 chapel which has been demolished. 
 
 From this spot the traveller beholds the whole course of the 
 Mugnone; an ancient bridge terminates the view on one side; 
 and on the other extremity of the pass where Radagaisius was 
 enclosed and destroyed, with all his men, there is another 
 Roman edifice, which has gained the appellation of Cicero's 
 Tower. 
 
 This quadrangular building, which is very lofty, and com- 
 posed of stone and bricks, resembles a fortification destined to 
 defend the pass of the mountain, rather than the house of an 
 individual. It is a curious fact, that there are iron rings fixed in 
 this tower, at a certain height from the ground, similar to those 
 which, in sea-ports, are used to moor ships and boats to. It is con- 
 jectvu'ed that this must have been their use: but then the level of 
 the river must have formerly been much higher than at present; 
 or else this valley must have been a lake, the waters of which, 
 breaking a passage through the rocks of Fiesole, have flowed 
 into the low grounds. Indeed, the boundaries within which 
 the Mugnone flows appear almost to have the shape of an oval 
 crater. The borders of the circumference are very clearly 
 marked out, except on the side of Fiesole, where there is a very 
 deep cut, by which the torrent escapes. 
 
 It is the opinion of some naturalists, that the neighbouring 
 valley of Mugello Avas the mouth of a volcano, and that it also 
 contained a lake; and that the plain of Florence, as I have 
 just mentioned, formed another immense lake, which extended 
 to the mountains of Lucca and Pisa. 
 
Course of the Miignone^-The BiancH Faction. 79 
 
 The Mugnone presented many more variations in its course j 
 for, after passing the bridge at JBadia, and turning round the 
 hills of Fiesole at Cure, the villa Bilotti, and the monastery of 
 St. Benedict, it flowed through the Via Ceia, as far as the 
 Via Fmsa, perhaps so called from the rapid current of the 
 waters as they passed ; then, still seeking the lower grounds, 
 it turned towards the city, passing by Pinti, by Caffeggio, and 
 by the street called San Gallo ; till, falling by the street de 
 Gori, it arrived at the point of its junction with the Arno, a 
 little beneath the bridge della Carraja. Tradition strengthens 
 this idea, and the ancient maps of Florence confirm it; and, 
 moreover, the sand and gravel which in our days have been 
 dug up in these various spots, amount to a demonstration. But 
 let us return to the villas which adorn its borders. 
 
 Dino Dazzi, a Florentine poet, possessed a house in the 
 neighbourhood of San Dominico, as well as Ugolino Verini. 
 Scipio Ammirato the Elder dates the dedication of his Com- 
 mentaries on the wars of Don Juan of Austria, with the Turks, 
 from his little villa of Fiesole, the 1st of March, 1581; and the 
 traveller still perceives with pleasure this inscription traced on 
 the stone-work of the architrave : 
 
 SCIPIO ADMIRATUS REIP. FLOR. SCRIPTOR. 
 
 On the banks of the Mugnone, there is a. cluster of houses 
 which has received the name of the Cure. Dante retired thither 
 to enjoy the tranquillity of its solitude. When this illustrious 
 poet was driven into exile, his house was confiscated. 
 
 It was not far from hence, and in the villa Salviati, which is 
 built upon an eminence, at a place called La Lastra, that the 
 faction of theBianchi, to the number of sixteen hundred gentle- 
 men, and nine thousand foot soldiers, assembled in 1304, during 
 the night of the 19tli of July. From thence they marched 
 upon Florence, and even penetrated into the city. But, seized 
 with a panic terror, they fled precipitately out of the gates, 
 and, dispersing, abandoned their enterprise. It has been 
 thought that Dante was a party to this rash enterprise, in the 
 hope of returning to his countiy ; and, indeed, it was not long 
 after this event, that he abandoned Tuscany and retired to 
 Padua. 
 
 Petracco, the father of Petrarch, and the friend of Dante, was 
 also connected with the party of the Bianchi. Exiled from 
 Florence at the same time, and by the same sentence, they 
 participated in the dangers of this nocturnal attempt. Return- 
 ing immediately to Arezzo, wiiither he had retreated with his 
 wife, Eletta Caccigiani, Petracco found, that on this night, 
 which had been attended with so much peril to himself, his 
 wife had presented him with a son, whose birth had endangered 
 his mother's life. This son was the celebrated Petrarchj 
 
80 Castellan's Tratels in Italy. 
 
 The Villa Salviati gives a good idea of those strong castles 
 which, in the fourteenth century, formed the retreat of the 
 revolting nobles, whose followers tyrannized over the neigh- 
 bouring country. One of these castles, called Monte Acinico, 
 which was built by some cardinal in the Nugello, and in which 
 he received the honour of a visit from the pontiff Gregory X., 
 became so formidable a station, that the Floi'entines were com- 
 pelled in 1306 to besiege and raze it. 
 
 A very melancholy circumstance, which happened in 1349 — 
 the assassination of Christiano and Mainardo, two of the inti- 
 mate friends of Petrarch, by the exiles of Florence, gave occa- 
 sion to that illustrious poet to write to the governor of Florence 
 a very vehement letter, Avhich seemed to carry all the indig- 
 nation of its author into the breasts of the Florentine magis- 
 trates. They sent troops into the Mugello, and, in consequence, 
 many of their strong-holds were destroyed ; and, as a modern 
 historian of Italian literature has observed, Tuscany owtd her 
 tranquillity to the eloquent apj^eal of one of her banished citi- 
 zens, and one to whom the goods of bis family had not yet been 
 restored. 
 
 By degrees the sombre and formidable appearance of these 
 fortresses has vanished. Porticoes, inclosed with light iron 
 gates, have succeeded to the draw-bridges; and the walls of 
 the terraces are covered with vases of marble or bronze, which 
 contain the rarest plants, while the details of ancient architec- 
 ture have been converted into more elegant or convenient 
 forms. Frequently, as is the case with the Villa Salviati, the 
 ancient mansion only serves as a habitation for the steward 
 and the fainiglia, or domestics, and porticoes or passages paved 
 with Mosaic or small stones, unite the ancient building to a 
 new edifice, constructed in a more elegant style, and in a more 
 accessible situation, embellished with all the brilliant additions 
 which fashion, however variable, renders necessary ; and which 
 were unknown to the austere and gothic feudatories who for- 
 merly possessed such domains. 
 
 On the banks of the Mugnone also is situated the majestic 
 villa which is called Tre Visi, and which appears to have been 
 the retreat of the company for whose entertainment Boccacio 
 composed his Decameron during the plague of 1348. , 
 
 Indeed Boccacio himself, without pointing out the place 
 otherwise than by the word il contado, says in his work ^' On 
 Wednesday, at break of day, the ladies and their cavaliers, 
 leaving Florence with their suites, commenced their route, 
 and after proceeding two miles, arrived at the place which had 
 been prepared for their reception, and which was sufficiently 
 remote from the highway. It was a palace with a spacious 
 
Benedetto Varchl. — Tropaja: 81 
 
 and handsome court, surrounded by logge, and by halls and 
 other well arranged apartments furnished with pictures. This 
 edifice occupied the summit of a hill, which was covered with 
 a variety of shrubs and trees of the finest foliage, and sur- 
 rounded by meadows and beautiful gardens abounding with 
 springs of the freshest water. 
 
 At the commencement of the third day, Boccacio speaks of 
 the cellars of this palace ; and he mentions the limpid waters 
 which oozed through every part, and more especially a very 
 abundant fountain that flowed through the meadow, and, 
 falling to the lower grounds, turned two mills. 
 
 In another part, he says, that from this spot there is a view of 
 Fiesole ; in short every circumstance confirms the idea that 
 this is the villa in question. It is two miles from Florence, 
 and near it there rises a spring, the M'ater of which turns two 
 mills. The idea is also confirmed, from the traditionary evi- 
 dence of the residents in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Near the royal mansions of Castello and La Petraja, there is 
 a villetta called Topaja, which is supposed to have been built 
 by Cosmo I., whose arms are placed on the left angle of the 
 house, with this motto, " Exaltabo te, Domine, et exuliabo !" 
 In thy exaltation M'ill I exult, O Lord ! 
 
 This Prince, who was much attached to the celebrated his- 
 torian Benedetto Varchl, and who had already loaded him with 
 benefits, wishing in 1558 to give him a new proof of his affec- 
 tion, presented him with this house, to enable him with greater 
 facility to complete the history of Florence, which he had 
 commenced. The auilior accepted the favour with gratitude, 
 and retired to this spot, where he passed nearly the whole year, 
 with the exception of some short intervals, during which he 
 visited Pisa, where he commonly resided with the Grand Duke, 
 and read him his histoiy. With these interviews Cosmo was 
 much delighted and only interrupted the author occasionally 
 with a cry of admiration, " MiracoU, Varchi, MiracoU /" 
 Varchi took advantage of one of these moments of satisfaction 
 to ask permission to change the vulgar name of Topaja, which 
 was very displeasing to him, for that of Cosmiano, but the 
 Grand Duke ingisted on his adopting the appellation of Var- 
 chiano. The polite struggle which ensued prevented any inno- 
 vation — the ancient name prevailed — and the house still bears 
 it, being always called Topaja (a nest of rats). 
 
 Besides his history, Varchi in this place wrote several other 
 works, and particularly his Ercolano, one of his most agree- 
 able productions. At the head of this work he gives a descrip- 
 tion of his house. He speaks of the walk in the green field 
 before his door ; of his herb-garden, in which he seems to 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No. 5, Vol. Ill, M 
 
g2 Castellan's Traveb in Italy. 
 
 have taken much delight ; and of dining t^te-a-t^te in the 
 Httle terrace, whence, amid a thousand other beautiful objects, 
 Fiesole and Florence were discovered. 
 
 He did not live a solitary life here. His friends visited him 
 daily, and sometimes remained whole weeks with him. At 
 last he became so habituated to their company, that he could 
 not live without society. Indeed there was not one man of 
 letters, or of any consideration, who did not visit him, so 
 agreeable was he, and so much honoured and esteemed. The 
 year of the death of this celebrated historian is not well known, 
 as many authors disagree as to the fact ; his epitaph at Florence 
 however bears the date of 157 1 • 
 
 La Topaja having been restored to its former owners, the 
 Grand Duke Cosmo III. ornamented it with a great number of 
 pictures of rare foreign fruits, and the most singular produc- 
 tions of the earth, with descriptions of them written under- 
 neath. This collection, which was made by a prince who was 
 an amateur in these sort of things, was afterwards divided be- 
 tween the Villa Real di Castello and other places. 
 
 The villas of Castello and Petraja, of which a description 
 will be given, are very celebrated for the excellence of their 
 wines. The plants are procured from Spain, from the Canaries, 
 from France, and from the most celebrated Islands of the 
 Archipelago. Redi found in this excellent Muscatel an inspi- 
 ration which burst out in a dithyrambic, where he sings — 
 
 Ma lodato 
 
 Celebrato 
 
 Coronato 
 Sia I'eroe, che nella vigna 
 Di Petraja e di Castello 
 Pianto primo il muscadello. ( 
 
 Come, let us raise 
 
 A song in his praise 
 
 And crown him with bays ; 
 For he is an hero, an excellent fellow, 
 Whose hand in the vineyard that glows at Castello 
 First planted the stock of the true muscadello. 
 
 But of all the delicious places which the voluptuous Romans 
 of the Augustan age did not disdain, none is more celebrated 
 and less frequented than the palace of Pratolino, a beautifiil 
 spot buried in the heart of a wood, and which I only discovered 
 by chance. Friendship detained me here some time, and I 
 quitted it at last with that pleasing regret which forms in our 
 after-life such an agreeable theme of recollection 
 
Rural ineidmf,. 83 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 Gathering Cherries — Visit to Pratolino — Story of Francesco de 
 Medici, and Bianca Capello. 
 
 JETTING out aione, to enjoy the pleasures of the chace, 
 the eager pursuit of my prey had gradually drawn me to a 
 considerable distance from Fiesole, and I completely lost my 
 way in the intricacies of the mountains. The day was wearing 
 away, and the heat became overpowering. Uncertain as to 
 what path I should pursue, I looked in vain for a human coun- 
 tenance to succour me in my wanderings, and at last, sinking 
 with fatigue, half-famished and ovei-whelmed, I directed my 
 steps to a wood, Avhere I calculated at least on finding a shel- 
 ter from the sun. It was an orchard of cherry-trees, and to 
 increase my happiness, I perceived a peasant who had climbed 
 into one of the trees, and was gathering the fruit, which he 
 threw into a large basket, supported on the head of a young 
 girl of ten or twelve years of age. 
 
 This group appeared to me very beautiful, but just at this 
 time the cherries possessed the greatest attraction for me; 
 upon my offering to buy some of the fruit the owner answered 
 me quickly, that he did not sell them retail, but in baskets 
 full. " Cannot you, at least," said I, " permit me to select a 
 few for my refreshment ?" at the same time shewing him a 
 piece of silver. " Hold your hat," he answered, " and you 
 shall have the best." He filled it in spite of me, although I 
 told him I had more than enough, and that the rest would be 
 all wasted. " I must give you the worth of your silver," said 
 he, still showering them down. The conscience of this man 
 was inexorable, and the fruit being very abundant and cheap, 
 I should have been overloaded if I had allowed him. 
 
 After making a delicious repast, for the young girl offered 
 me a piece of a thin light cake Avhich she had kneaded her- 
 self, I began to think of returning to Fiesole, and inquired 
 the way of my friend. " You are far enough off," said the 
 villager, " and you had better go to Pratolino, which is in the 
 neighbourhood ; the agent will show you all sorts of hospitality 
 in the name of our dear Archduke." Delighted with the ac- 
 cident which had conducted me to a place I had so great 
 a desire to visit, I followed his advice, and my conductor 
 
84 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 ^.-continued to talk in the florid language of Tuscany. " Do 
 
 you see that mountain shaded by the great chesnut trees, and 
 
 in the midst of that green spot, the burning windows of that 
 
 old edifice ? Go along this side, leave the house on your left, 
 
 and you will see a pathway where the fountain throws up its 
 
 c sparkling waters, and rolls away along the green-sward; then 
 
 follow^ the windiil^s of the stream, and it will serve you as a 
 
 guide through the leafy darkness; when you come to the 
 
 meadow you may take your time, for you will soon reach the 
 
 gardens of Pratolino ; you Avill have no longer need to follow 
 
 the banks of the stream, for you will see on a hill-side the 
 
 bouse of the agent. A ])leasant walk to you," said he, " good 
 
 X bye — may the Avoods afford you a pleasant shelter — may the 
 
 winds refresh you, and the benediction of a poor man procure 
 
 you peaceful slumbers." The young girl seconded the good 
 
 ^.wishes of her father by a gentle sigh, and a graceflil court- 
 
 ■■-'sey. 
 
 I gaily resumed my way, well refreshed and well directed, 
 yet not Avithout frequently turning my head to look back at 
 the beautiful Italian, Avho called out, "Don't lose sight of 
 the ruins, the fountain by the side, and the stream that mur- 
 murs over the turf." These sweet Avords, repeated by the 
 echo, died in murmurs on my ear, till I could no longer per- 
 ceive the fair villager or her father, AA'hom the foliage of the 
 wood hid from my vIcaa^, nor even the clump of cheny-trees 
 to which I OAved so much. 
 
 At the entrance of the Avood I met a man AA^ho offered to 
 conduct me to the factory, Avhither he Avas going himself; 
 the kindness and politeness of the inhabitants of these regions 
 assured me of a pleasant reception at Pratolino. I met with 
 marvel after marvel ; for, after pursuing a Aery uncA'en path, 
 through AAhich my conductor guided me, forcAvarning me 
 against making false steps over the more unequal parts, I Avas 
 absolutely overwhelmed Avith astonishment, Avhen on arriving 
 at my destination I found that the guide to whom I had en- 
 trusted myself, was blind ! He Avas, indeed, a man of great 
 intelligence; the acuteness of some of his faculties had been 
 carried to such perfection, that lie manufactured a number of 
 A^ery delicate mechanical instruments, and, in fact, became 
 clock-maker to all the neighbourhood. 
 
 The little adA^entures of the day gained me a very gracious 
 . reception from the agent and his agreeable family ; they com- 
 ^.■^ pelled me to partake of the supper to Aviiich they \A^ere just 
 '^^''sitting doAvn, and aa^c deferred till to-morroAv exploring the 
 ^''retreat of Bianca Capello, the enchanting habitation of a new 
 "^ '^Armida. . 
 
Pratolino-^Bianca Capello» 85 
 
 Erected in the sixteenth century under the directions of 
 one of the Medici, the Villa real di Praiolino united all the 
 grandeur, beauty, riches, and ingenuity, which that remark- 
 able age could furnish ; and although now only the shade of 
 what it was, it still preserves so many charms, and recalls 
 such memories, that a description of it cannot but possess 
 considerable interest. 
 
 In 1569, Francesco, the son of Cosmo de Medici, wishing 
 to possess an agreeable retreat in the country bought a vast 
 tract of land, situated six miles from Florence, on the shelving 
 side of Monte Morello ; it was a savage, rough spot, covered 
 with wood, and irrigated with numerous streams ; the air 
 was fresh and healthy, and although this valley was but a few 
 miles from the capital of Tuscany it was uninhabited. It ap- 
 peared consecrated to mystery and silence, yet it was destined 
 to become the secret asylum of beauty, of that Bianca Ca- 
 pello, whose singular history presents a striking example of 
 the vicissitudes of fortune, and of the terrible changes which 
 wait on the votaries of love and ambition. 
 
 Francesco de Medici, like the generality of Princes, had 
 married from motives of policy ; his wife was a Princess of the 
 House of Austria, more virtuous than amiable, and better 
 fitted to inspire respect than love. The young Prince only 
 beheld in this union a golden chain, the weight of which he 
 attempted to alleviate, by giving himself up to his taste for 
 the fine arts, but from which he was too well disposed to dis- 
 embarrass himself. 
 
 In the mean while, Bianca, the daughter of Bartolomeo 
 Capello, a noble Venetian, arrived at Florence, already known 
 by her beauty, her weakness, and her misfortunes ; she had 
 fled from her own country, and now sought protection from 
 the Prince of Tuscany. A young man of no fortune, but ac- 
 complished and beautiful as herself, had carried her off from 
 the bosom of her family : the Capellos denounced him to the 
 Council of Ten, and he was condemned to die. This fair and 
 unfortunate pair found an asylum in the Court of Florence, 
 where the adventures of the beautiful Venetian awakened the 
 curiosity and compassion of Prince Francesco : the latter feel- 
 ing was nearly allied to love, and the husband of Bianca hav- 
 ing been assassinated by his enemies, the passion of the Prince 
 became unbounded ; it would indeed have been difficult to 
 break the charm, for Bianca, to her natural attraction, joined 
 artifices which could not fail to ensure her a triumph ; in 
 turn she played off all the vivacity of her wit, her attractions, 
 her graces, and even her caprices, to amuse the melancholy 
 humour of her lover: in this manner she became necessary 
 
86 Castellan' sTravels in Italy. 
 
 to him, making him forget his domestic grievances, and 
 neglect his affairs — love had tied the knot, habit confirmed it, 
 and each day drew it still closer. 
 
 To enjoy less disturbance Francesco had resolved to retire 
 with his mistress to the solitude of Pratolino. He entrusted 
 to an ingenious artist, of the name of Buontalenti, the duty of 
 embellishing the scene of his retirement. A magnificent palace 
 and superb gardens appeared, changing this savage spot into 
 the most enchanting residence. Here was assembled a 
 brilliant court of which Bianca became the sovereign. The 
 Grand Duke's love knew no bounds; every thing y^^as lavished 
 on the objeot of his attachment. She was the aim of all 
 pleasures, the idol of all homage. The great nobility of the 
 state, the ministers, the courtiers, were all of them at her feet, 
 and she alone dispensed places and favours, while the Grand 
 Duchess could scarcely obtain those common marks of respect 
 which were due to her rank. The chagrin which she ex- 
 perienced from the constantly increasing triumphs of her rival, 
 and the weakness of her health, were too much for her to 
 resist, and she died in giving birth to a dead child. The Grand 
 Duke shed many sincere tears 5 he reproached himself as the 
 cause of this calamitous accident, and he fled at last from his 
 palace suffering all the agonies of remorse. He wandered 
 about for some time in the most solitary places of Tuscany, 
 avoiding sedulously the presence of his seducer. He was 
 weak, however, and his resolutions were soon forgotten ; re- 
 tirement, public opinion, nothing could withhold him, and he 
 again delivered himself up to the undisturbed indulgence of 
 his passion. 
 
 Bianca, during the life of her husband, had made the Grand 
 Duke swear on a consecrated image that she should be his 
 princess, should they both become free. Weak promise ! Yet the 
 madness which had dictated it still continued. The daughter 
 of the Capellos usurped the place of Jane of Austria. The 
 marriage, which was solemnized secretly, Avas not made 
 public until after the appointed time of mourning had expired. 
 The new sovereign princess was then adopted by the republic 
 of Venice, and declared a true and peculiar daughter of 
 St. Mark ; and as she did not appear to be inferior to two other 
 daughters of the saint, one of whom had been married to the 
 king of Hungary, and the other to the king of Cyprus, the 
 republic decreed to her the royal crown. This ceremony, at 
 which a deputation of Venetian senators assisted, was one of 
 the most brilliant which had ever been seen. Balis, carousals, 
 tournays, vcUegiature, or rural parties, bull-fights, and encoun- 
 ters of wild beasts followed one another without cessation. 
 
Death of Francesco de Medici and Bianca Capello. 87 
 
 The Grand Duke, fatigued with the affairs of govern- 
 ment retired ag-ain to Pratolino, where he was reposing 
 in the bosom of pleasure, when his son died, the only fruit of 
 his former marriage, and the heir of the family of Medici. He 
 might perhaps have fovmd consolation beneath this infliction, 
 had he had any expectation of a family by Bianca, but of this 
 he now despaired, and, not having adopted the son which she 
 had borne him before their marriage, he fell into a state of 
 melancholy. 
 
 Inclosed in his retreat, far from the palace, which only re- 
 called the memory of his son, and from the city, the inhabitants 
 of which he had alienated from his authority, invisible to his 
 people, and rarely seeing even his minister, he had no other 
 consolation than the company of tlie Grand Duchess. Solitude^ 
 luxury, and the want of occupation, inflamed his passions and 
 placed him completely in the power of this woman, to whom 
 all the calamities which Tuscany at this period suffered were 
 attributed. Hatred, however, v/as changed into pity, when 
 the calamity was known which terminated at once her existence 
 and that of her husband. 
 
 The circumstances of this affair do not appear to have oc- 
 curred in the common course of things : the causes and the 
 details of it are alike unknown, and they have been differently 
 explained. Those who love the marvellous have collected a 
 thousand fables more or less absurd on the subject; others 
 have alleged poison as the instrument; but the problem still 
 remains to be solved. 
 
 Whatever the real facts may have been, it is known that the 
 Cardinal de Medici had always been the enemy of Bianca 
 Capello, and that he never pardoned his brother for forming 
 this degrading alliance. Some pretend to say that the Grand 
 Duchess, who had resolved to avenge herself, seized the oppor- 
 tunity of the Cardinal's visiting her in the absence of her hus- 
 band. She prepared for her brother-in-law some pastry, which 
 she knew was very agreeable to his palate ; in this a subtle 
 poison had been mingled: the Grand Duke, returning from the 
 chace, and hungry from exercise, unluckily found this poisoned 
 meat and ate a large quantity of it. Bianca hearing the in- 
 telligence, and desperate at the idea of having poisoned her 
 husband, resolved to share his fate, and the poison in both 
 instances taking effect at the same moment, they both expired 
 in inexpressible tortures, Avithout the Cardinal permitting any 
 one, as it is said, to afford them succour, which circumstance 
 has made him pass as the author of this calamity. , ,, 
 
 One of the historians of the Medici, Galuzzi, has endeavoured 
 to prove the incorrectness of this account. He confesses. 
 
98^ Castellan's Travels in Italy, 
 
 however, that the Cardinal de Medici, who under the name of 
 Ferdinand succeeded his brother, persecuted Bianca even after 
 her life had expiated her crime, and sought even to extinguish 
 the remembrance of her. In fact, he ordered the body of this 
 unfortunate creature to be conveyed to the common cemeter)'^, 
 where she was confounded with all the ignoble dead; and 
 soon afterwards he ordered the arms of the Capellos to be ob- 
 literated from all the public edifices where they had been 
 quartered with those of the Medici, and he substituted in their 
 place the bearings of Jane of Austria. 
 
 Don Antonio, whom Francesco had recognised as his natural 
 son, had resolved, if possible, to establish a right to the crown ; 
 but the Cardinal Ferdinand gave him to understand that unless 
 he contented himself with his station and quality of prince, 
 he would declare him to be the son of a locksmith, who, as he 
 asserted, was his real father. Don Antonio, who had much 
 good sense, acceded to the determination of the Grand Duke, 
 and was made a Knight of Malta, Grand Prior of Pisa, and 
 Lord of Capestrano. He lived in the royal edifice in the 
 gardens of the Medici, where Lorenzo the Magnificent had 
 established his school of Arts. This prince, in imitation of 
 Francesco, devoted himself to the studies of the occult sciences. 
 He also established a printing-press at that place. 
 
 The morals of Francesco had a great influence over those 
 of the age. His weakness towards Bianca was productive of 
 great evils. Every body and every thing in the state had been 
 rendered subservient to the caprices of this woman. She 
 made offices venal, justice arbitrary, and ministers servile, and 
 the prince himself became a passive instniment in her hands 
 which she wielded at will. The court of Florence, the richest 
 and most polished one in Europe, was a model to the princes 
 who sought to imitate the Grand Duke in his taste for magni- 
 ficence and pleasure. Gallantry became a fashion which spread 
 abroad the most scandalous consequences, divisions in families, 
 and private animosities. But of all its evil effects the most 
 deadly was that relaxation of morals which is even now tole- 
 rated, which gained ground and influence insensibly, and 
 which has served succeeding ages as a model and an excuse. 
 
 On the other hand, the taste of this prince for the arts, and the 
 encouragement which he lavished on artists, instead of giving 
 genius an impelling motion, seemed only to extinguish or to 
 enervate it. It almost makes one think that the arts are the 
 children of Luxury, who, like Satuni, ends by devouring his 
 offspring. 
 
 The reign of Francesco de Medici, though favourable to 
 the fortunes of artists, prevented them from making any 
 
Pratolino. ^^ 
 
 nearer approaches towards perfection. This honorable career 
 became the path of ambition, and the productions of art be- 
 came the furniture of the auctioneer's sale-room. Taste in- 
 deed was becoming more general. Festivals and spectacles 
 became, as it were, essential to the happiness of every rank. 
 The liveliest emulation reigned in every class of society, and on 
 all sides arose the most gorgeous monuments. This species of 
 luxury was in the highest vogue amongst the rich and powerful 
 princes of Italy. Francesco, however, piqued himself on sur- 
 passing all the others. He boasted particularly of his archi- 
 tectural talents, and he used to display to his inquisitive guests 
 the palace of Pratolino as the work of his own invention. 
 
 But the glory of the Medicean age was about to set for ever. 
 The splendid light which had illuminated Europe began now 
 to fade in the dearth of aliment. The dispersion of the school 
 of RafFaele, and above all, the death of Michael Angelo, had 
 left a void which it M^as impossible to supply. Nevertheless 
 the arts still flourished in appearance ; there was no want of 
 ready and amiable talent; luxury, gallantly, pleasure, still" 
 inspired the hand of the artist — the master-age was pa?* 
 
 J ETTER XIIL 
 
 Description of the Palace and Gardens of Pratolino. 
 
 i\MONGST the numerous and magnificent palaces of the 
 sovereigns of Tuscany, that of Pratolino is acknowledged to 
 be most worthy of the traveller's attention. The hand of na- 
 ture had prepared the elements, that of the artist had only to 
 reduce them to shape and symmetry. The forests which co- 
 vered the ground, needed only the axe in certain parts, or to 
 be formed in others into avenues. The thick tufts of trees, 
 when pierced by winding path-ways, were transformed into 
 retired asylums and inextricable labyrinths. On all sides foun- 
 tains sparkled up which did not demand the human hand to 
 guide them. Their waters were either collected in vast basins, 
 or flowed through channels open to the air, or forcing their 
 way through canals from which they sprung in jets, they then 
 fell in cascades, carrying along into every part their freshness 
 and the gentle murmur of their motion. 
 
 These woods composed of firs, laurels, and other ever-green 
 trees, seemed the asylum of perpetual spring. To provide for 
 the pleasures of the chace and angling, the park was stocked 
 
 Voyages and Travbls, No, 5, Vol, JII, N 
 
90 Castellan's Travels in Italy, 
 
 with wild animals, and the waters were filled with fish of every 
 species. The gardens were under the management of expe- 
 rienced gardeners, who transplanted thither the rarest trees 
 and flowers, and brought to perfection the fruits of all nations. 
 In short this retreat called to mind the delicious abodes which 
 the voluptuous emperors of Rome retired to, in pursuance of 
 the counsels of Epicurus, to lay down the purple and to crown 
 themselves with the roses of pleasure. 
 
 The presiding idea of him who constructed the palace, 
 seems to have been to form an abode of mystery. In fact, 
 travellers pass by the route of Bologna, only a short distance 
 from Pratolino, without the least suspicion that the forest 
 which they behold, contains a royal mansion — not a single 
 avenue announces it. A single, narrow, unequal way leads to 
 a square in the centre of the park where the house is situated, 
 in such a manner as not to be seen until you arrive before it. 
 This vast court is surrounded by a railing supported and united 
 by pilasters of the rustic Tuscan order. On the left side, in 
 front of the palace, and beyond the trellis-work, there is a 
 large tract of ground covered with trees, at the extremity of 
 which, the colossal statue of the Apennines rises in majesty. 
 
 There is an air of grandeur in the general disposal of the 
 palace and the objects which surround it, but the plan of the 
 building, and its exterior decorations, are not conformable. 
 The architecture has been praised on account of the numerous 
 apartments being lighted without the aid of interior courts; 
 In the building is contained a handsome theatre. Several 
 organs, distributed in different apartments, and played by 
 means of water, produce the effect of a great number of dif- 
 ferent instniments, and give the hearer a good idea of the style 
 of music of the sixteenth century. We shall give a more de- 
 tailed account of the grottos, which have frequently served as 
 models for things of this kind. 
 
 A person must have resided in Italy, or in some other 
 torrid climate, to be able to appreciate the delight which the 
 shade, the murmurs, and the flowing of waters can procure. 
 There the rich find the means of cheating nature, and provide 
 retreats into which they may retire from the fer\' ors of summer. 
 The aphorism of Rousseau, which at first appears like a pa- 
 radox, is founded in the strictest truth, that cold is best pre- 
 served in hot countries. There the houses are constructed on 
 a plan adapted to the climate. The walls are very thick, the 
 windows fcAV and narrow. Every advantage is taken of a 
 current of air when it can be procured; living waters distri- 
 bute in each apartment a reviving freshness by their moist 
 evaporations, and as a last combination of all that is cool. 
 
Pratolino. 91 
 
 they imitate nature in the formation of artificial grottos, which 
 abound with all the advantages which such places afford. 
 — They cover them with stalactites, shells, and marine pro- 
 ductions; and they thither lead numerous springs, which mur- 
 mur or leap through those subterraneous abodes. But, in spite 
 of all they can do, they only obtain at last, with great cost, a 
 feeble imitation of the marvels which Nature has produced 
 "without effort. 
 
 The grottos of Pratolino are situated in that part which is 
 exposed to the south. They occupy the level ground beneath 
 the terrace which surrounds the castle, and serves it as a base. 
 You descend by a double staircase, in the form of a horse-shoe, 
 to an esplanade in front of the grottos, which forms a second 
 terrace lower than the first. On the side of the gardens it is 
 cut off precipitately, on account of the declivity of the ground, 
 but the lateral extremities are on a level with the grass plot. 
 
 The distribution of the grottos, although they are unequal 
 in size and grandeur, is remarkable for the advantages which 
 have been taken of the situation in which they have been con- 
 structed. They are all of them vaulted, and rest on beautiful 
 columns of marble. One certainly cannot too much admire 
 the brilliancy of the interior decoration, which is nearly the 
 same through them all. The walls and the vaulted roofs are 
 ornamented with stalactites, madrepores, marine plants, corals, 
 shells, and mother-of-pearl; and all those objects are mingled 
 with paintings in Mosaic. Everywhere one sees statues of 
 marble or of bronze, which cast streams of water into basins of 
 marble or of gilded lead. These waters, by secret passages, 
 flow beneath the pavement, and escape into the gardens, where 
 they are again applied to a thousand different purposes. 
 
 Amongst the statues, many are to be attributed to celebrated 
 artists, and are no less remarkable for their composition than 
 tbeir execution. The most beautiful have been transported to 
 Florence ; yet, notwithstanding, there are several left worthy 
 of observation. 
 
 The Grotto of the Deluge is the first the stranger arrives at : 
 it is so called from the quantity of water which flows in it, not 
 only from the ceiling, but from the walls, and even from the 
 pavement. When you enter it, you are completely in the 
 power of the fountain players, who can inundate you without 
 the possibility of your avoiding it, for the fountains bar the 
 passage, and even reach you on the esplanade ; the pavement 
 of which, constructed like that of the grotto — of small round 
 stones of various colours, and arranged in compartments, so as 
 imitate Mosaic work, is pierced by innumerable holes, through 
 which a multitude of little spouts of water issue. .„„,„. 
 
92 Castellan's Travelsjn Italy, 
 
 It may be added, that we may not have again to return to 
 this subject, that every sort of surprise, and all arts of deceit, 
 are used to entrap the curious. — Sometimes the commodious 
 seats which invite them to repose themselves break with their 
 weight, and duck them in an unexpected bath : — sometimes 
 a ladder is placed as if it led to some curious object, but 
 scarcely have you placed your foot on the first step, when a 
 catch goes off, and unmasks a fountain, which rushes direct 
 into your face : — sometimes, M'hen you are least expecting it, 
 a marine monster, or some other strange figure, rises, — rolls 
 its eyes on you, opens its mouth, and covers you with a flood 
 of water. 
 
 In a colder climate this sort of amusement would prove 
 somewhat inconvenient. It is, however, foreseen ; no one is 
 exposed to it against his will, and you may avoid it by proper 
 precautions. 
 
 The Grotto of the Samaritan is one of the most curious, 
 from the numerous mechanical inventions of Buontalenti, 
 which force the water into action. There is a sort of theatre, 
 in which several complicated movements successively take 
 place. The cave represents a hamlet composed of huts inter- 
 mingled with trees. — The door of a house opens, and a beauti- 
 ful village girl comes out, carrying a vase, and approaches one 
 of the fountains to draw water.— Her movements are veiy 
 natural, and her body possesses a kind of suppleness and grace. 
 She arrives at the fountain, fills her vase with water, places it 
 again on her head, and returns towards the cottage; not, 
 however, without frequently turning round her head to gaze 
 at a shepherd seated near, who seems to admire her, and who 
 attempts to prevail on her to stay and listen to his music. On 
 the sides of the theatre, a blacksmith opens his shop, and is 
 seen busily employed with his workmen in the labours of the 
 forge: — a miller, also, carries sacks of grain to a mill, the me- 
 chanism of which is most complete. — In the distance is heard 
 the sound of horns and the barking of dogs, and we are enter 
 tained with the representation of a hunt: many wild animals 
 run across the bottom of the stage, pursued by a pack of 
 hounds and hunters. — In the foreground, birds, perched in the 
 branches, pour forth their song; and swans and ducks are 
 seen sporting in the waters. 
 
 A theatre placed opposite to the former represents the attack 
 and taking of a fortress. There are also several other me- 
 chanical inventions, all very ingenious, and astonishing, when 
 we consider the period at which they were executed. 
 
 The grotto delta Stuffa, or of the Bath, is small, but orna- 
 mented very carefully with madrepores and corals, from which 
 
Pratolino. ^ 
 
 an exceedingly fine rain escapes, or rather a tepid mist, which 
 sinks into the basin of the batli. This basin occupies the centre 
 of the grotto : it is of red marble, and is supplied at will with 
 cold or warm water, from two satyrs of bronze. From the 
 grottos you descend into the gardens by two magnificent flights 
 of steps. 
 
 In the construction of these grottos it seems as if all the 
 resources of the most inventive art had been exhausted to 
 obviate the attacks of heat ; though one would almost think it 
 impossible to preserve the liumidity and freshness of this arti- 
 ficial atmosphere. Nevertheless, they have here contrived, 
 under the influence of a fiery sky, to create a new temperature, 
 of the most equal mildness; comparable indeed with that ot 
 the gardens of Arm ida, the delusions of which were probably 
 intended to be here realized; unless, as we have already in- 
 sinuated, Tasso himself has copied the gardens of Pratolino. 
 
 On leaving the grotto which we have just described, you 
 'enter a magnificent avenue of fir trees and tufted laurels, 
 which, extending along an insensible declivity for about nine 
 hundred feet, is mingled at its extremity with the masses qf 
 wood which cover the neighbouring mountains. 
 
 The grotto of Cupid, the fountain of Esculapius, the urns, 
 the tombs, and the statues, which people these woods with 
 recollections, attest the respect of the Medici for the precious 
 monuments of art and antiquity — here rises Mount Parnassus, 
 with the statues of Apollo and the Muses ; Pegasus is boimd- 
 ing from the summit of the mountain, whence also a limpid 
 stream starts, the sound of which is mingled with the 
 notes of a musical instrument, which is played by water — 
 there rise fountains, ornamented with groups of statues, re- 
 presenting fabulous personages, or scenes from common life. 
 
 That temple of such architectural elegance is consecrated 
 to love and the graces I This rude grotto, covered with moss, 
 forms a slielter from the storm — to such a cave Dido and 
 iEneas retreated. A ray of light piercing the rocky cieling, 
 enables us to distinguish the verses of Virgil carved on the 
 marble. 
 
 In the midst of a retired spot, a stream flows through the 
 scented shrubs, giving increase to the waters of several little 
 lakes, which are completely surrounded with large forest 
 trees ; a light skift' conveys you to an islet covered with the 
 thickest foliage, where a seat of turf covered with daisies is 
 the only ornament of the thicket — retired from the gaze of the 
 world, shut out from every interruption, here you can medi- 
 tate at leisure, invited to contemplation rather than disturbed 
 by the murmur of the leaves, and of the Avaters. From out 
 
94 Castellan's Travels in Italy, 
 
 the myrtles and the rose hushes rises a cohimn, on which are 
 engraved some verses consecrating the stillness of this retreat 
 to the divinity of mystery. 
 
 Such are the gardens of Pratolino, such is the vast enclosure 
 fenced in by a curtain of impenetrable forests, where Fran- 
 cesco de Medici forgot fame and honour in the lap of plea- 
 sure. The seductive Bianca Capello was the queen of these 
 solitudes ; frequently armed with the symbols of Diana, and 
 surrounded like her' with her nymphs, she traversed the woods 
 to the sounds of horns and warlike music ; more frequently, 
 however, in the diviner habit of the queen of love, she wan- 
 dered through these paths with her lover, consecrating the 
 places which witnessed their delights, with monuments, alas ! 
 more durable than their happiness. 
 
 Having now given some account of the palace and gardens 
 of Pratolino, I shall proceed to say something of that extraor- 
 dinary work the Colossus of the Apennines. In front of the 
 castle I have said there lies an open space of ground about 
 300 feet in length, and 100 in breadth; this piece of ground is 
 bordered on each side by loity fir trees and beeches, the 
 trunks of which are hidden by tufts of laurels, in which are 
 placed niches for statues ; the middle of it is covered with 
 turf, and farther on a piece of water extends itself in the 
 shape of a half-circle, behind n hich rises the colossal statue of 
 the Apennines. 
 
 Rising from an elevated and apparently irregular base, 
 to which you arrive by two flights of steps which follow the 
 semicircular bend of the basin, this statue at first appears to 
 be a pyramidal rock, on which the hand of man has rudely 
 attempted to execute the project which the statuary intended 
 to work on Mount Athos, and M'hich Alexander had the proud 
 wisdom to reject ; but on a second view we recognize the 
 genius of a pupil, and worthy rival of the great Michael An- 
 gelo. 
 
 John of Bologna, inspired by the writings of the ancients, 
 executed in this work, the idea which they formed, and 
 have transmitted to us of their Jupiter Flu vi alls, a name 
 much more applicable to this figure than tliat of the Colossus 
 of the Apennines, which has been attributed to it one knows 
 not why. The; style is grand, and the character of the head 
 is perfectly suited to the subject ; his bushy temples brave the 
 storm, and seem covered with a hoar frost ; his hair descends 
 like icicles upon his large shoulders, and the locks of his 
 beard resemble stalactites. In order to add to the extraordi- 
 nary effect of this Colossus, a sort of crown is placed on his 
 head formed of small Je^« d'eav. which fall upon his shoulders^ 
 
Colossits of the Appemiines, 95 
 
 and rolling over the whole figure make it sparkle in the rays 
 of the sun. 
 
 The position is good, setting and bending forward, the God 
 rests one hand on a rock, whilst the other presses the head of 
 a marine monster, which spouts a large volume of water j 
 although by this position much of his height is lost, his head 
 still overtops the trees, and standing off from the blue heavens 
 almost seems to touch the clouds ; it would be difficult to 
 imagine a more picturesque and perfect composition in all its 
 proportions ; when you gaze on it you perceive no enormous 
 disparity with the objects around, so well does it harmonize 
 with all that surrounds it, and you only conceive an idea of 
 its real magnitude, by comparing it with the groups of pas- 
 sengers, which, when seen at a certain distance, resemble 
 pigmies : if we suppose this giant standing up, it would not 
 be too much to say, that he would be an hundred feet in 
 height. 
 
 In the interior of the body there are several apartments, 
 and in the head there is a beautiful chamber, to which the 
 eye-balls serve as windows j the extremities are constructed 
 of a coarse laying of stones ; the trunk is formed of bricks 
 covered with mortar or cement, which has acquired the hard- 
 ness of marble, but which when fresh must have been easily 
 worked, and capable of taking the requisite impressions. 
 
 It is said that many of the pupils of John of Bologna who 
 were employed on this work, when they came to execute 
 figures of ordinary dimensions, found that in their giant 
 labours they had lost their exactness of eye and skill of hand. 
 
 The untenanted Pratolino is now a melancholy spectacle j 
 the vast apartments, the long galleries, formerly ornamented 
 with pictures or rich hangings, now only display the naked- 
 ness of uncovered walls ; the mosaic pavements are covered 
 with dust, and the wind sobs through the broken casements. 
 This beautiful place, now almost forgotten, attracts only the 
 traveller, whose affection for the arts prompts him to search 
 for them in the midst of the ruins, w hich the hand of time 
 and the negligence of man have accumulated. 
 
 In the gardens, the walks, formerly so level and covered 
 with the finest gravel, are now broken into gutters, or 
 choaked up sometimes with briars, and sometimes by the 
 enormous branches of some pine which has been struck with 
 lightning; every thing has broken from out the bounds in 
 which they were anciently confined; the walls are crumbling 
 away ; and in the midst of the disjointed statues, parasitic 
 plants spring up, and fasten their clasping fingers, covering 
 them with a sombre verdure. The virgin vme climbing 
 
"96 Castellan* s Travels in Italy, 
 
 round the columns, mingles its light garlands with the ara- 
 besque ornaments which run along the friezes, and which are 
 themselves only an imitation of this natural and rustic decora- 
 tion. 
 
 A few marble statues arc still standing, but they are all 
 mutilated, or if any of them are still perfect, they owe their 
 preservation to the thorny shrubs which surround their base. 
 Mosses and lichens however are destroying what even man 
 appears to have been forced to respect. Every where art slowly 
 yielding to nature has nothing to oppose to her but her own 
 massiness and vis inertice. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Campo-Santo-— Description of the Pictures — Convents of the 
 Apennines — TJie Hermit — Conclusion. 
 
 L HE distance between Florence and Pisa is traversed with 
 such facility and pleasure, that it is more like taking a walk 
 than a journey. There is no country which abounds with more 
 beautiful prospects, or where cultivation is better understood, 
 or which is inhabited by a race whose exterior announces more 
 ease, sweetness, and urbanity. The fields are like gardens, 
 and the rivers resemble canals bordered with picturesque edi- 
 fices, connected together with garlands of foliage, flowers, and 
 fruits. There is no exaggeration in this picture. The banks 
 of the Arno are planted with fruit trees, round which the vines 
 cling, and their branches intertwining with one another, form 
 garlands of the most picturesque beauty. 
 
 I enjoyed with great zest my visit to the celebrated Campo- 
 Santo, where the artist can form an exact idea of the revival 
 of painting, since he finds there specimens of the earliest mo- 
 dern painters, not dispersed and confounded with other works, 
 which must necessarily throw them into the shade, but united 
 and following one another in regular progression. By this 
 means he can judge ot the affiliation of picturesque ideas, and 
 of their successive developement, till he arrives at the works 
 of the great artists of the sixteenth century, who carried 
 painting to the highest pitch of perfection. 
 
 The Campo-Santo is a most magnificent building ; the inside 
 is coated with black marble, and the outside is covered with 
 
Campo Santo. 97 
 
 lead : the interior of the building is most rich in architecture^ 
 sculpture, and painting. It was intended to be used as a place 
 of sepulture for the principal inhabitants of Pisa, and to per- 
 petuate, by inscriptions and other funeral monuments, the 
 memory of those persons who had distinguished themselves in 
 science or the arts. 
 
 The shape of the edifice at first view appears to be a right 
 angle, but it is in fact slightly rhomboidal, that is to say, the 
 corners are not exact right angles. The pavement of the 
 cloister is formed into different compartments of various co- 
 loured marbles, and these compartments display monumental 
 stones, on which are engraved the names and the arms of the 
 ancient families of Pisa, to the number of more than six hun- 
 dred. Under the arcade there are placed some ancient Sar- 
 cophagi, supported on brackets ; they amount in number to 
 about six hundred, and they all of them have covers or lids - 
 most of them are of Parian marble; they are ornamented with 
 mythological or similar subjects, and, from the inscriptions 
 which yet remain on them, they are of Etmscan or else of 
 Grecian or Roman origin. Notwithstanding this, most of the 
 Sarcophagi contain the ashes of noble Pisans. 
 
 Before the erection of the Campo-Santo these tombs were 
 ranged around the Avails of the cathedral. Being afterwards, 
 about the year 1297, placed outside of the cloister, where they 
 were exposed to total destruction, they were collected under 
 the arcades by Ferdinand de Medici, who gave a proof of his 
 love for the arts, by causing them to be deposited in the place 
 which they now occupy. Nevertheless, whether it was owing 
 to the ignorance of those who were entrusted to convey them, 
 or whether the dilapidated state, in which some of the sculp- 
 tures were, made them look upon them as unw^orthy of their 
 attention, certainly a great quantity, and those too of the most 
 valuable kind, were neglected. They are all of the best age 
 of sculpture, and have served as models to the early Pisan 
 artists, whom we may call the restorers of sculpture. 
 
 Independently of these Sarcophagi, there are other antique 
 monuments dispersed here and there on the walls, as well as 
 a variety of modern tombs erected at different periods. We 
 will finish what we have to say of these curiosities before we 
 describe the singular paintings which cover the walls of this 
 immense edifice. 
 
 Near a miliary column, on the ancient Via Emilia, there is 
 an antique bas-relief, which has been long supposed to have 
 been wrought in commemoration of a cage of iron, in which 
 an enormous serpent was enclosed in 1109 by the skill of a 
 man called Nino Orlandi, and carried in triumph through the 
 
 Voyages and Travels, No. 5, Vol. IIL O 
 
98 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 streets of Pisa. It is said the marble was sculptured and placed 
 on this spot in memory of this strange achievement, Avhich 
 has been mentioned bv many historians. I rather thmk that 
 there is veiy little credit due either to the tradition or to the 
 inscription/ which was only made in 1777; for one view of the 
 monument plainly shews that the bas-relief bears no traces of 
 a cage or a serpent, while the marble indicates an age stdl 
 more remote than the fact in question. This marble is in fact 
 only a fragment of an antique sarcophagus. 
 
 Amongst the ancient tombs there is one bearing the follow- 
 ing inscription : — ■ 
 
 D. M. T. MLIUS. AUG. LIB. LUCIFER. FIBUS. {vivus) SIBL 
 POSUIT. 
 
 In fact, amongst the ancients there are many examples of 
 people who, not having any great confidence in their heirs, 
 have raised their own tombs in their life-time, in order to be 
 sure that their names would reach posterity. The Campo- 
 Santo presents a modern instance of this singular precaution. 
 It is the tomb of Filippo Decio, a lawyer of Milan, and a pro- 
 fessor in the university of Pisa. We shall only quote the last 
 words of the inscription, which are curious : — 
 
 . hoc sepulcrum sibifabricari curavit, ne posteris suis crederet. 
 
 Amongst other modern tombs that of Matteo Corte, a phi- 
 losopher and physician of Pavia, is curious : it was built in 
 1544 by order of the Grand Duke Cosmo. The statue reposing 
 on the cenotaph is from nature ; the drapery is fine ; the head 
 rests upon the right hand, the fingers of which are lost in the 
 curls of his long beard; his left hand holds a closed book. 
 The skilfiil sculptor seems almost to have given a new and 
 eternal life to his model. 
 
 It is well known that Tuscany had the honour of mainly 
 contributing to the revival of the arts in modern times. The 
 Pisans distinguished themselves by the eifectual encouragement 
 M^hich at this period they afforded, and the Campo-Santo be- 
 came the theatre in which, successively, the most celebrated^ 
 pictures of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuiy were displayed. 
 Here you see passing in review, as it were, Giotto, Simon de 
 Sienna, Buffalmacco, Piero Laurati, the Brothers Orcagna, 
 Spinello d'Arezzo, Taddeo Bartoli, and lastly, Benozzo Goz- 
 zoli, who surpassed them all, and who, in concert with his 
 coteniporary Masaccio, gave existence to that new style, which, 
 superseding that of Giotto, spread itself abroad throughout 
 Europe, and more especially in Flanders, and served as a 
 model for the great masters of the following age. 
 
Campo Santo. 99 
 
 It is very curious to see, in the pictures of Campo-Santo, 
 painting" rising through various stages to perfection. As we 
 trace it, we see it casting off its early rude clothing, assuming 
 a form of simplicity, and then of elegance, then attaining 
 beauty and natural graces, till it at last reaches that sublime 
 and ideal beauty, beyond which all is exaggeration — the rock 
 on which art founders when the boundaries of reason are once 
 passed. 
 
 The first paintings, which you see on the left, are descriptive 
 of the life of St. Ranieri, the protector of Pisa. There are six 
 in immber, and in two lines ; the three higher ones are attri- 
 buted to Simon Memmi di Sienna, and those below to Antonio 
 called Veneziano, from his having painted many pictures at 
 Venice : he was however born at Florence, where he learned 
 the art of painting under Angelo Gaddi. Simon Memmi was 
 the pupil of Giotto, according to Vasari, but according to the 
 conjectures in the Lettere Senesi^ he appears rather to have been 
 a pupil of Francesco Jacopo di Turrita. He commenced about 
 the year 1300, and painted till 1344. You remark in his pic- 
 tures more grace and less hardness than in those of his cotem- 
 poraries. He was particularly celebrated for his skill in por- 
 trait-painting ; and Pandolfo Malatesta sent for him to Avignon 
 to take the portrait of Petrarch. The poet begged him to 
 trace for him the features of his beloved Laura, and he recom- 
 pensed him with two sonnets in his praise, which will form a 
 more lasting monument than any of his paintings. 
 
 Dante had already immortalized Giotto in those well known 
 verses — 
 
 Cedette Cimahue nella pittura 
 
 Tener lo campo, ed ora Giotto il grido 
 
 Siche la Jama di colui osciwa. 
 
 Giovanni Villani, the historian, calls him the most cele- 
 brated master of his day, and Angelo Politiano commences 
 the sepulcral inscription which was raised by the command of 
 Lorenzo de Medici, with these words : — 
 
 Ilia ego sum per quern picturu extincta revixit. 
 
 Giotto has also contributed to the embellishment of the 
 Campo-Santo. The paintings which represent the history of 
 Job added so greatly to his reputation that Benedict XI. sent 
 for him to Rome, and entrusted him with the execution of se- 
 veral pictures, of which only some very slight remains are 
 now to be found. 
 
 On the same side are seen some paintings of Spinello Are- 
 tino, which are not very excellent ; and as you return on the 
 western side are some of Ghirlandajo, and a few of more mo- 
 
100 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 deni date, executed in the places of those which have been 
 destroyed. 
 
 We' now arrive at the northern part of the cloister, where in 
 the first compartments we see the history of the creation, 
 painted by Buonamico Buffalmacco, a pupil of Andrea Tafi. 
 The first of these pictures occupies the whole height of the 
 cloister, and presents a gigantic figure of the eternal Father, 
 embracing and sustaining the whole celestial system, such as 
 it was conceived to be at this period. Then follow the prin- 
 cipal facts in Genesis to the Flood. The pictures of this artist 
 are remarkable for their simplicity, and even grace, and for 
 the justice of movement and expression which they display, 
 though they have a dryness of contour and a stiffness of fonii, 
 which betray the infancy of art. In representing Noah's Ark 
 he has given the exact forms of various mechanical instruments. 
 The costume of his figures is extremely simple and pictiu'esque, 
 with the exception of the shoes, which are long and pointed 
 beyond measure. His perspective is veiy bad. The paintings 
 which follow are the work of an artist who was a man of ge- 
 nius, Benozzo Gozzoli, much admired in the fifteenth centuiy, 
 and by the greatest painters of the following age, to whom his 
 works served as models ; but who was despised as soon as he 
 was surpassed. All eyes and all hopes were turned to that ele- 
 vated station where sat Michael Angelo and Raffaele. Nothing 
 else was studied but their works, and no account was taken of 
 those who had pointed out the way. In the pictures of this 
 artist those seeds of talent are discernible which grew to bril- 
 liant maturity in the works of Raffaele. Divinity is repre- 
 sented in a becoming manner, while the simple grace and an- 
 gelic beauty of his virgins and heavenly ministers, the noble 
 and severe character of his patriarchs, and in one word the 
 whole variety of his phisiognomies are all exceedingly appro- 
 priate and true to nature. In design he is easy, though not 
 without force. The proportions of his figures are elegant, 
 their postures are noble and graceful, and their movements are 
 just and expressive. His draperies are large, and adjusted 
 with taste. His colouring often possesses vigour and bright- 
 ness, and his tints are skilftilly managed. Gozzoli may be 
 considered the precursor of Raffaele. The pictures of this 
 artist at Campo-Santo are twenty-three in number, occupying 
 in two rows a space of three hundred and twenty-four feet, 
 with the exception of five pictures by other artists. It is 
 scarcely possible to believe, although tradition and historical 
 evidence agree upon the fact, that these pictures commenced 
 in 1434, were completed in the space of two years, a most ter- 
 rible enterprize, fit, as Vasari says, to frigl^ten a whole legion 
 
Vov: roi .j/i.v^r. 
 
 CKi'l-"!!' O - PORTICr S . 
 
(hmpo Santo. 101 
 
 of painters, when one takes into account the time absolutely 
 necessary for subsisting the bodily powers only, still more 
 above the capacity of one man, whatever might be his active 
 facility. We can only account for the fact, by supposing that 
 Benozzo was assisted by his pupils. 
 
 Many of these pictures are almost entirely destroyed. Some 
 of them have been retouched, and the rapid approaches of 
 the destruction which threatens those in the best state of 
 preservation are visible. They are daily falling in por- 
 tions from the walls. An ingenious engraver, who has been 
 employed in preserving these specimens of art to after times, 
 has had the chagrin of frequently seeing fragments of figures 
 crumbling before his eyes, which he was just about to copy. 
 It has been remarked with surprise, that under the stucco, 
 which is pretty thick, and on the wall which is exposed by the 
 falUng of the mortar, the painters appear to have traced the 
 outline of their composition in a red tint, and that this sketch, 
 very wonderfully, has a perfect correspondence with the con- 
 tours of the painting executed on the stucco, although the 
 plaister must have completely concealed the first labour I 
 
 The pictures of Rondinosi, a Pisan artist, painted about 
 1666, follow those of Gozzoli. As we gaze on them we invo- 
 luntarily repeat the verse of Dante : — 
 
 Non favellar di lor ma guarda e passa. 
 
 The chapel at the bottom of the Campo-Santo, which is sur- 
 mounted by a cupola, was erected by the Archbishop Carlo- 
 Antonio del Pozzo, and was consecrated in 1593. 
 
 Over the altar is seen a picture by Aurelio Lomi, painted in 
 1595, which represents St. Jerome with a pair of spectacles on 
 his nose. This anacronism is common with several painters, 
 ignorant that spectacles were not invented till the twelfth 
 century. 
 
 Andrea Orgagna, or Orcagna, was a sculptor, a painter, 
 and a poet, and a great admirer of Dante. His picture of the 
 Last Judgment, though filled with a prodigious number of 
 figures, is yet vei7 simple in the distribution of the various 
 groups, and veiy clear in the exposition of the subject. 
 Scarcely was this picture finished, when Orcagna was recalled 
 to Florence to execute some work of sculpture. He entrusted 
 to his brother Bernardo the continuation of the subject, per- 
 haps after his own sketches : — the subject was Hell, alia Dan- 
 tesca, or in the manner of Dante. 
 
 The prince of Italian poetry made such an impression on the 
 spirit of his cotemporaries by his poem, that the painters 
 knew not how to represent Paradise or Hell, except in the 
 shape which the great poet had given them. Giotto painted, 
 
102 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 about 1306, these subjects in the church dell' Arena at Padua ; 
 and it is said that Dante, then in that city, used to watch him 
 at work and suggest ideas to him. The same imitations ap- 
 pear to run through all the paintings of this period, both Ita- 
 lian and German. The picture in the Campo-Santo is evi- 
 dently painted after the Hell of Dante. The painter however 
 has exaggerated the ideas of the poet, and there is no extrava- 
 gance which he has not permitted himself to use in expressing 
 the torments which the infernal ministers inflict on the damned 
 — Tuili sonpien di spirti maladetti, e di serpenti di diversa mena. 
 But I have no room for further description. 
 
 The travellers who generally visit Italy, and whose principal 
 aim is the examination of the monuments of antiquity, or of 
 those objects of art which adorn the principal cities of this 
 country, have neither leisure nor desire to wander out of the 
 well-beaten track in order to visit places which are not well 
 known, or which they fear would not repay their trouble. Of 
 this number are the convents dispersed amongst the Apennines, 
 which are scarcely known even to the pilgrims, naturalists, 
 and landscape-painters. To the latter the rugged situation of 
 the convent of Vallombrosa presents the finest contrasts with 
 the pleasant scites of the rest of Tuscany. 
 
 The mountains of the Apennines, though less lofty than the 
 Alps, are yet covered with snow the greatest part of the year ; 
 and the forests which shade these summits are the asylum of 
 perpetual freshness. One cannot therefore traverse them with 
 pleasure unless during the summer. It was at the end of that 
 season, and in the hope of finding some new food for study, 
 that I undertook this little journey Avith a skilful French artist. 
 We were furnished with letters of recommendation to the su- 
 perior of the convent of Vallombrosa, and with the necessary 
 permission to prolong our stay after the usual time allotted to 
 ordinary travellers or pilgrims. We were also particularly ac- 
 quainted with one of the monks, a zealous friend of the arts 
 and artists. 
 
 On leaving Florence we followed the banks of the Arno, 
 pursuing the course of the stream for several leagues. This 
 road, which winds through the fruitful Val d'Amo, is sheltered 
 with poplars and aspin trees, around whose trunks the vines 
 cling, throwing their arms from one tree to another, and 
 tying them together with garlands loaded with fruit. The 
 casinos and farm-houses, built on the side of the mountain, 
 display specimens of elegant architecture, and embellish 
 the country. The Florentines resort to these pleasant 
 retreats to enjoy all the delights of the finest part of the 
 season, to inhale the freshness of the dells revived by a 
 
Villages of the Apennines. 103 
 
 thousand springs, and to breathe the scented air which 
 pours from tlie orange and lemon-trees. This part of the 
 country is well peopled, and we met troops of peasants 
 who were bending their steps towards the churches and ora- 
 tories, which are scattered in great numbers throughout this 
 territory. 
 
 The festival days which one sees here almost transport one 
 to Fairy Land. The sumptuary laws of Leopold have only 
 been acted upon in the towns ; and to behold the elegance of 
 the villagers one would really think that luxury had fled into 
 the countiy. Every young girl on her marriage brings as her 
 dowry three complete habits of silk of various colours. Their 
 little petticoats of rose-coloured or azure silk display a beauti- 
 ful foot and an ancle bound with a knot of ribbands ; the 
 sleeves of their corsets are tied up with many little bows of 
 roses, and iheir hair, separated into tresses, flows under a yel- 
 low or black straw bonnet, bordered with ribbands, and orna- 
 mented with a bouquet of flowers. 
 
 In proportion as we approached nearer to the mountains the 
 casinos and the farm-houses became more thinly scattered. 
 We left the beasts that carried our luggage at a little village 
 which lay at the foot of the rocks, which seemed in a manner 
 to form the base of the chain of Apennines, and which horses 
 could not ascend without great difficulty. By this means we 
 gained a greater power of leisurely observing the picturesque 
 features of these mountains. A steep path-way which followed 
 the windings of the ground led us to the first summit, where 
 we found a forest of chesnut-trees. 
 
 It was not until we had surmounted many of the crests of 
 the mountains that we discovered the immense forest of firs, 
 by which the convent is environed, and which forms a dark 
 green curtain in which the summits of this part of the Apennines 
 are hidden. Up to this moment we have experienced, in its 
 full power, the ardour of an Italian sun. Our guide advised 
 us to stop when we reached the chain of woods, whose frigid 
 and dangerous influence we now began to feel. In fact, when 
 you enter these venerable and almost interminable forests, a 
 sudden cold pierces you, and you almost imagine yourself 
 transported to the solitary and humid vallies of Switzerland. 
 The firs seem all equally old, and planted in a regular quin- 
 cunx shape. The multitude of trunks shuts out all light from 
 around you ; the foliage growing thicker as it ascends forms 
 above your head a vaulted roof, impenetrable to the rays of 
 the sun. There are no traces of vegetation on the ground, 
 which is covered with a collection of withered leaves and 
 branches, so deep that the successive accumulation forms a bed 
 
104 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 which does not retain even the print of the passenger's 
 foot. 
 
 Indeed all things perish under the shadow of the fir trees, 
 which may be classed with those parasitic plants which absorb 
 the juices of the earth, to the destruction of all neighbouring 
 vegetables. This quality, however, causes neither expense to 
 the cultivator of the land, nor injury to the proprietor; since 
 it is the means of destroying many noxious plants, for the sake 
 of that nourishment which supported them. Attached to the 
 soil of its birth, this tree flourishes in the place where its pre- 
 decessor perished"; unlike most trees, which, having absorbed 
 the richness of the earth, leave nothing to their successors but 
 an impoverished soil, incapable of affording them nourishment. 
 
 When the monastery first breaks upon the sight, it forms an 
 imposing contrast to the wild and savage forms which surround 
 it, and presents, in the length of its edifices, almost the ap- 
 pearance of a city. A square tower, rising above the other 
 buildings, and furnished with a clock, the sounds of which 
 alone break the solemn stillness of the air, was the only thing 
 which bore signs of the monastery being inhabited ; for as yet 
 we had not encountered a single mortal since our entrance 
 into the forest. We were only disturbed by the noise of the 
 wind, Avliich beat against the branches ; and I do not believe 
 we saw, amid the depths of these shades, any other living 
 creatures than the troops of squirrels which lived on the fruits 
 of the fir trees. On arriving before the monastery, the grass 
 plots, the immense courts, were all deserted and solitary ; and 
 it was not until we had rung for a considerable time at an iron 
 grating, that we were attended to, and at last introduced into 
 the hail which is set apart for the reception of strangers. 
 
 The monks were at church; but the Father P , who 
 
 waited on us, received us with great attention, and led us to 
 some very pleasant cells, where nothing that could be useful 
 or agreeable to the tired and rejoicing traveller was forgotten. 
 
 He wakened us on tlie following morning, and reminded us 
 that it was proper we should return thanks to Heaven for the 
 happy termination of our journey. — ^These good monks, of 
 whom very few have ever been absent from their convent for 
 years, consider a walk of eighteen miles a very long journey ; 
 and, although they seem totally to have renounced the world, 
 they yet eagerly questioned us respecting what was passing 
 there. 
 
 Father P did the honours of the convent in a most 
 
 pleasing manner ; he was our Cicerone, and our guide in all 
 our picturesque excursions. I cannot describe in detail the 
 various edifices which compose this immense building. The 
 
Hermitage of Paradisino, 10& 
 
 walls which surround the monastery are" sufficiently lofty to 
 protect it from any sudden surprise; but the monks have 
 nothing to dread from the inhabitants of the country, to whom 
 they have proved themselves the kindest benefactors. 
 
 We have been shown all their treasures of rich relics and 
 other ancient works; and, amongst other pictures of the 
 fourteenth century, we have discovered two fine heads of Ma- 
 saccio. The cabinet of natural history contains a collection of 
 petrifactions of different kinds, amongst which are some fossil 
 bones and teeth of the elephant, found in Val-d'Arno and the 
 Val-di-Nievole. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of the convent there is a hermitage 
 called Paradisino, situated, like the nest of an eagle, on the 
 summit of an isolated rock. The objects by which it is sur- 
 rounded, and, above all, the mountains which environ it, are of 
 so gigantic a character, that the building itself seems only like 
 a small ruin detached from an immense mass. A headlong 
 torrent mshes down the steep sides of the rock, threatening it 
 Avith destruction. — ^To reach Paradisino you pass over a bridge 
 thrown across the torrent, and at the extremity of which you 
 find a chapel. A large avenue of firs, planted on the steep de- 
 clivity, shade a paved road, which is passable even by carriages; 
 soon afterwards, however, you arrive at a i)athway constructed 
 with much labour and art, which follows the sinuosities of the 
 land, and winds in a spiral shape round the rock. The path is 
 sometimes only separated from the precipice which yawns be- 
 neath it by a barrier formed of the interlaced branches of young 
 trees ; and, notwithstanding this safeguard, the bellowing of 
 the cascade, and the rapidity and shock of its waters, from 
 which a thin humid vapour rises, astound the ears of the 
 passenger, and fill his heart with a sentiment very like terror. 
 
 When you arrive on the terrace of Paradisino, you imagine 
 yourself transported to another world, and your charmed eye 
 stretches over the wide prospect. — The opening of the valley 
 serves as a frame for the most picturesque beauties of all kinds. 
 The foreground is filled with hanging rocks, through which 
 dash fierce torrents ; some fallen trees offer a temporary ob- 
 struction, but the waters soon loose themselves in the deep 
 obscurity of the forests, which stretch to the borders of the 
 valley where the towers of the abbey burst upon the view. 
 
 On the other side the aspect of the country is changed. — It 
 is less wild, and, although mountainous throughout, there are 
 more signs of cultivation. — It is traversed by streams bordered 
 with rural edifices and intermingled with wood. Further on, 
 stretches a vast plain, and a rich tract of country, watered by 
 a majestic river, on the banks of which rise the temnles, the 
 Voyages and Travels, No. 5, Vol. III. P 
 
106 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 palaces, and the towers of Florence ; and the landscape is 
 closed with the mountains of Lucca and the sea of Tuscany. 
 
 Evening is the time for enjoying this sublime prospect. At 
 the moment when the sun approaches the horizon, the sea seems 
 all on fire; an inflamed vapour marks out the different ranges 
 of mountains ; while the deep vallies are already in dimness, 
 adding by their sombre verdure to the effect of the picture. 
 
 As soon as we arrived at the gate of Paradisino, we rung the 
 bell; and the hermit, opening the gate of that part of the 
 building which he inhabited, admitted us. — He lighted a fire 
 by which we might dry ourselves, and oflTered us some of his 
 humble provisions, which hunger, excited by violent exercise, 
 rendered extremely palatable to us. 
 
 This man, though now very old, appeared still endowed with 
 prodigious force and energy. — His white bristly hair, his im- 
 mense beard, his aquiline nose, his fiery eye, sparkling under 
 a thick eye-broAV ; in short, his whole physiognomy, gave him 
 more the appearance of a satyr than an anchorite. 
 
 Ic was not without trouble that we could prevail on him to 
 suffer his portrait to be taken ; at length, however, he con- 
 sented, and seated in his usual position, with his body a little 
 bent, and his hands crossed on his beads, his countenance as- 
 sumed that expression of calmness and reflexion which be- 
 comes a repentant sinner. The conversation soon afterwards 
 falling on the Avars which desolated the north of Italy, 
 the face of the hermit was touched with a character of fierce- 
 ness, and his features were changed to those of an animated 
 warrior ; by degrees his eyes began to sparkle, and almost to 
 strike fire, and we soon recognized under the hermit's cowl, 
 the outlaw at whose name Italy had formerly trembled. 
 *' Why," cried he, fiercely, " why have I renounced the 
 world, whilst my country is menaced with invasion ? At the 
 voice of Fornacciaio many a brave fellow would rush forward 
 to shake off" the yoke." He accompanied these words with some 
 very strong imprecations, then all at once casting himself on 
 his knees, he besought pardon of God for this burst of earthly 
 passion, and lay for a long time j^rostrate on the ground. 
 
 We endeavoured to restore him to calmness, and telling 
 him how his words had excited our curiosity, he consented 
 out of pure humility to relate to us the history of his ci"imes 
 and of his repentance. i 
 
 The name of Francesco Fornacciaio is well known through- 
 out all Italy, and more especially in Lombardy, where it is 
 still the terror of the children^ — the latter countiy was the 
 theatre of the many bold and open robberies of this man, who 
 ^vas the Captain of a disciplined troop of banditti : he took 
 
Francesco Fomacdaio, the Outlaw. 107 
 
 possession of a castle, which he converted into his retreat . 
 there, after overrunning the country with his band, he re- 
 turne d to divide the fruits of successful violence. 
 
 T'ne situation of the castle, fortified by nature, protected 
 the.ni for a long time from the terrors of justice, and it was at 
 last found necessary to besiege it with cannon and regular 
 troops, to dislodge the robbers, of whom a great number were 
 surprised. Fornacciaio escaped almost alone, but a price 
 was immediately set on his head ; he wandered about a long 
 time oppressed with fear and remorse, until at last he volun- 
 tarily surrendered himself into the hands of justice, and ex- 
 periencing the clemency of the Pontiff, in consideration of his 
 repentance he was absolved from his crimes : from this mo- 
 ment he took the resolution of devoting himself to the life of 
 a hermit, and entreated permission to bury himself in the 
 solitudes of the Apennines. 
 
 For many years he lived an austere penitent in a damp 
 ,^rotto; at length he was with difficulty prevailed upon to 
 transfer his habitation to the hermitage of Vallombrosa, his 
 perseverance in this course being esteemed a proof of his 
 harmlessness. 
 
 One of the most singular circumstances in the life of this 
 man was related to us by the Prior of the convent; Fornac- 
 ciaio had passed it over in silence and humility. — Being in the 
 neighbourhood of Sinigaglia, the Governor of the Castle, who 
 wished to gratify his private revenge, cast his eyes on this 
 man, as a person whose intrepidity and hardy enterprize ren- 
 dered him well adapted for his purpose. He sent for him to 
 hear his proposal, on the execution of which he promised him 
 a pardon, and an oblivion of all his crimes, and moreover a 
 safe conduct. Fornacciaio, without hesitation, accepted the 
 safe conduct and waited on his employer ; at his ajjproach the 
 gates opened, but they shut on him as he entered ; he betrayed 
 no fear, however, but was presented to the Governor, who 
 took him aside, and made him acquainted with the murderous 
 designs, which were to be the price of the pardon. Fornac- 
 ciaio answered with indignation, " Do you take me for a vile 
 assassin ? Know that I have never killed any one, but in fair 
 combat face to face, and I would not though it should save my 
 head, commit in cold blood so cowardly and guilty a deed." 
 The Governor then threatened to arrest him, but the robber 
 reminding him of his promise of safe conduct, and drawing 
 two pistols from underneath his mantle, swore that if he called 
 for assistance he would take his life, and then sell his own 
 as dearly as possible. The Governor, trembling gave him 
 permission to retire, but Fornacciaio obliged him to unfasten 
 
]08 Castellan's Travels in Italy. 
 
 the doors himself, and to accompany him out of the castle gates.* 
 
 I cannot quit this country without giving some account of 
 an excursion, which we made to the most elevated summit of 
 this part of the Apennines. 
 
 We remarked, what a celebrated Tuscan naturalist had al- 
 ready observed in other parts of Italy, that about half way up 
 the mountains the woods of chesnut and fir trees disappear, 
 and nothing is found on the summit but immense beech trees, 
 which with firs are the primitive and indigenous trees of the 
 mountains of Tuscany ; one perceives as the ground rises a 
 gradual diminution in the size of the trees : on the sides of the 
 mountains of great magnitude as they approach the summit 
 they become rough and tufted, and bear fruit in great abundance. 
 
 From the summit, (which is covered with a very fine 
 herbage, or rather with a thick moss, and extremely slip- 
 peiy,) one of the most elevated of the Apennines, we took 
 a survey of all Tuscany ; it was spread like a vast map 
 beneath our eyes, where we could distinguish all the rami- 
 fications of the mountains which separated the provinces 
 into vallies ; the streams spread over the land like threads of 
 silver ; the towns and villages seemed like accumidations of 
 grains of sand, and the city of Florence, notwithstanding all 
 its colossal monuments, seemed only like a single point in this 
 immense plain 5 in the west the Mediterranean distinctly 
 bordered the horizon ; on the opposite side the Adriatic flowed. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the various scites, which 
 furnished us with numerous subjects for oiu* ])ictures during 
 the remainner of our stay at Vallombro'^ Eveiy day we 
 made fresh discoveries of this kind, while ti. varied scenes 
 which this wild country presented, and chc peaceable and 
 quiet life which we there led amid solitudes which invited us 
 to study, prevented us from feeling any lassitude. 
 
 I have, I doubt not, forgotten a number of objects which 
 well merited description, and this account will convey but a 
 feeble idea of Vallombrosa ; it may, however, serve to excite 
 in the minds of artists a desire of visiting this ancient monas- 
 tery, and they will not repent of their pilgrimage. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 * Some time after our visit, the hermit was found dead at the return of 
 spring. If we may believe pubhc report, this man, although reclaimed from 
 many of his ancient errors, still nourished a vice which the rigour of ihe 
 cold to which he was sometimes exposed in winter rendered somewhat ex- 
 cusable. The unlimited use of strong liquors is said to have produced a 
 spontaneous combustion, which consumed his body without burning his 
 cloaths. The common people, always fond of the marvellous, attributed this 
 death to the divine vengeance. 
 
 Printed by Benjamin Bensley, 
 Bolt-court, Fleet-street. 
 

 U>K 
 
 \U"^N \M !-■'■. ^w ^-^ i 
 
^5^-~76/ 
 
V 
 
 
 ^^k ,■ 
 
 «^ 
 
 
 ■'^*^' 
 
 %,. 
 
 Y"-«''^V^^ 
 
 ^f-'SJisxisA 
 
 
 ."»» 
 
 ^-■■'^.i>< ir awi -^ «