A YEAR IN EUROPE. THE REV. JOSEPH CROSS, D.D. EDITED BY THOMAS 0. SUMMERS, D.D. Na8f)btlle, &tm.: SOUTHERN METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE. 1858. ^V Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by JOHN B. M'FERRIN, in the Clerk's office of the District Court for the Middle District of Tennessee. By transfer APR 6 1915 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY A. A. STITT, SOUTHERN METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE, NASHVILLE, TENN. Cttitfttds. 93 Dedication ix Preface xi CHAPTER I. INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE. A storm — The Persia — The passengers — A wreck — A fog — Worship — "The cerrrclc" — Sunrise— Anchorage — An attack of Bacchus — An arrest — A fatal accident — A warning to smokers — Warm reception on shore 17 CHAPTER II. MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. Docks and shipping — .Historical and architectural — The Rev. Thomas Raffles, D.D. — The Rev. Hugh M'Neil, D.D. — Charitable institutions — Schools and societies — Li- braries and museums — William Roscoe — Mr. Thackeray 26 CHAPTER III. A WEEK IN LONDON. Railway travel — Greatness of London — A morning mist — Our lodgings — Charges — Cab-drivers — Servants — The poor — Westminster Abbey — Gothic architecture — New Parliament buildings — British Museum — The Tower — Dr. Cumming — Mr. Spur- geon , 36 CHAPTER IV. BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. Dinner at Dover — Crossing the Channel — Calais — Cologne — The Cathedral — Shrine of the Three Kings — Church of Saint Ursula — Dom Glocke — Other churches— His- torical — Railway casualty — Serious mistake — Dresden — Romanism and Royalty — Frauenkirche — English worship 52 CHAPTER V. EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. Saxon Switzerland — Speaking German — Smoking and smokers — Vienna — Baden — The Semmering — Valley of the Mur — Gratz — Cave of Adelsberg — The dreary Karst — Trieste — Across the Adriatic — Venetian fog 65 IV CONTENTS. CHAPTER "VI. THE QUEEN OF THE ADRIATIC. Origin of the city — The Duomo — The Campanile — Pino prospect — Piazza and Piaz- zetta — The Ducal Palace — The Library — The Dungeons — Churches — The Rialto — ArtesiaD Wells — Adieu 75 CHAPTER VII. MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. Triumphal entry— The cathedral— The roof— The tower— Historical sketch of the city — St. Ambrose — San Carlo Borromeo 85 CHAPTER VIII. TO THE ETERNAL CITY. Beautiful country — Another peep into the night-gowns — Novara — View of the Alps — Battle-fields — Alessandria — Crossing the Apennines — Genoa — English chapel — Seeing the city — Christopher Columbus — The cathedral — A relic — Leghorn — Monte Nero — Italian names — Civita Vecchia — Gasperoni and the Pope — Tete-a-tete with a priest — "A friend in need" — The diligence — Rome 96 CHAPTER IX. FIRST DAYS IN ROME. Seeking apartments — Settled, unsettled, and resettled — The Sabbath — Priestly des- potism — A little leaven — Street spectacles— Blessings for beasts — Beggars — Pano- rama-lecture — The city of the Ctesars — The city of the Popes 108 CHAPTER X. VETTURA TO TERRACINA. Troublesome Facchino — Across the Campagna — Albano — La Riccia — Velletri — Cis- terna — Cora and Norma — A race for bajocchi — Pontine Marshes — Foro Appio — Forward again — Monte Circello — Terracina 122 CHAPTER XI. "WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. A wild story of the Alps — A tender story of Mount Anxur 133 CHAPTER XII. JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. Wayside glimpses — Pondi — Ttri — Cicero's tomb and Formian villa — Extensive pros- pect — Gaeta — Water-nymphs — Valley of the Liris — Sant' Agata— Sessa — Capua — Aversa — Naples — History — Population — Trade — Fortifications 154 CONTENTS. V CHAPTER XIII. NAPOLI LA BELLA. Environs — Villa Reale — Chiese de Partu — Poetry — A picture — Burying in churches — Grotta di Posilipo— Tomb of Virgil— The cathedral— Church of St. Paul— Other churches — Royal Palace — Capodimonte — The Camaldoli 168 CHAPTER XIV. MOUNT VESUVIUS. The ascent — The summit — Ancient condition — Grand eruption of A.D. 79 — Constant changes — Other eruptions — View from the top — Descent — Various impressions. 179 CHAPTER XV. THE BURIED CITIES. Museo Borbonico — Works of art — Domestic articles — Herculanenm — The theatre — " New excavation" — Pompeii — Temples — " Street of Abundance" — Theatre — Mis- cellaneous objects — Via Appia — Villa of Diomede 192 CHAPTER XVI. THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. Nocera — La Cava — Beautiful scenery — The convent — Charming drive — Amalfl — Its history — Beggars and begging — Wild night-scene — Monte Sant' Angelo — Courage, maccaroni, and cheese — Glorious prospect — Castellamare — Plain of Sorrento — The town and its antiquities — Poetic curiosity 205 CHAPTER XVII. A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. Punta di Posilipo — Bagnoli — Nisida — Pozzuoli — Monte Nuovo — Lago d'Avorno — View from the cliff — Curna? — Balse — Promontorium Misenum — The Solfatara — Lago d'Agnano — Grotta del Cane — Fuorigrotta — Frightful assault — Caserta — Ca- pua — Adieu to Naples 219 CHAPTER XVIII. THE CRADLE AND THE THRONE OF ROME. The Palatine and the Domus Aurea — Present appearance — The Capitol — Its destruc- tion — Its restoration — Temple of Jupiter — Its influence and utility — Present build- ings — Forum Romanum — Julian Forum — Augustan Forum — Forum of Nerva — Forum of Trajan — Fora Venalia — Temple of Peace — Flavian Amphitheatre.... 231 CHAPTER XIX. MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. Millearium Aureum — Via Appia— Other Roman roads— Cloacaj — Aqueducts — Foun- tains— Therma? of Diocletian — Thermae of Titus — Thermse of Caracalla — Thermos of Agrippa, of Constantine. of Alexander Severus — Circus Maximus — Circus of Maxentius — Temple of Quirinus — Temple of the Sun — Porticoes 243 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER XX. THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS M A R T ITT S . The fame of the Tiber — Its reputation vindicated — The Campus Martius — Its ruined structures — Mausoleum of Augustus — Mausoleum of Hadrian — Roman architect- ure — Its characteristics — Its history — Borromini and his school — Reflections.. 257 CHAPTER XXI. HISTORIC NOTICES. Home under the emperors — Extent of the city— Estimate of population — Vice and luxury — Gothic devastation — Feuds of the nobles — Rome of the middle ages — Pil- lage by the imperial troops — Papal restorations and improvements— Sixtus the Fifth — Subsequent popes — French occupation under Napoleon — Pio Nono 272. CHAPTER XXII. BASILICA VATICANTJS. View from a distance — View from the piazza — The interior — The roof — The dome — The ball 289 CHAPTER XXIII. ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. Influence of Borromini upon the style of sacred architecture — Church of St. Cle- ment — San Pietro in Vincoli — San Martino e San Sylvestro — Santa Cecilia in Tras- tevera — San Pietro in Montorio— Santa Maria in Trastevera — San Lorenzo — -II Gesu — Ara Coeli — Santa Maria Maggiora — San Giovanni in Laterano — San Paolo Fuori la Mura — Sant' Onofrio — Santa Maria ad Martyres — San Stephano Rotondo 299 CHAPTER XXIV. PALACES AND VILLAS. Roman palaces — Palazzo Doria — Palazzo Ruspoli — Palazzo Corsini — Palazzo Bar- barini — Palazzo Borghese — Palazzo Farnese — Palazzo Colonna — Palazzo Spada — Palazzo Pontificio — Palazzo Vaticano — Suburban villas — Villa Farnese — A r illa Ne- groni — Villa Panifilidoria — Villa Madama — Villa Borghese — Similarity of these villas 314 CHAPTER XXV. ANTEMNE AND FIDENE. Solitary ramble on the Campagna — Interesting view — Fierce dogs — A ruin — Walk to Antemne — Charcoal sketch — A soldier artist — Site of the city — Great battle-ground — Ponte Salaro — Scene of Nero's suicide — Necropolis and citadel of Fidene — His- torical sketch 324 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER XXVI. OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL Historical sketch — Our visit — The Campagna — Isola Farnese — Antonio Taleri — Tar- peian Rock — Utter desolation — Ponte Sodo — Necropolis — Painted tomb — Forum of Roman Municipium — Columbaria — Second and third visits — Additional discove- ries — Serpents — Piazza d'Armi — Temple of Juno — La Scaletta — Grotta Campana — Return to Rome 335 CHAPTER XXVII. TRIP TO TIVOLI. Basilica of San Lorenzo — "Wayside glimpses— The Solfatara — Tomb of Plautius — "Villa of Adrian — Ancient Tibur — Modern Tivoli — Temples of Vesta and the Sybil — Roman villas — Pleasant prospects — An Italian tempest — Return to Rome 355 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ALBAN MOUNT. Strada Ferrata to Frascati — Antonio — Villa Rufinella — Tusculum — Cicero's Villa — The Alban Lake — Alba Longa — Emisario — Ruins of Roman villas — Castel Gondol- pho — La Biccia— II rosignuolo — Lanuvium — A priest at play — Nemi — Floating palace — Monte Cavo — Return to Rome 364 CHAPTER XXIX. LA CHIESA DEL GESU. Excursion — Churches of Sant' Agnesia and Santa Constantia — Mons Sacer — Cata- combs of Sant' Alessandro — Tombs and Columbaria — Church of Domine Quo Vadis — Catacombs of San Calistro and San Sebastiano — Sepulchre of Cecilia Metella — Mis- cellaneous perambulations— La Chiesa del Gesu — The music — The sermon — The collection — The illumination — The effect — Disinterested benevolence — Remarks on preaching— Release from purgatory — Rome is finished 379 CHAPTER XXX. FROM ROME TOFLORENCE. Last view of St. Peter's — Monte Soracte — Civita Castellana — Camillus and the School- master — The Umbrian Hills — Ocricoli — Narni — Terni and its Falls — Short method with beggars — Spoletto — The Clitumnus — Foligno — Spello — Santa Maria Degli Angel — Assisi — Saint Francis and his Order — Grotta Dei Volumui — The Etruscans — Perugia — Battle of Thrasymenus — The Papal frontier — Brigands 395 CHAPTER XXXI. THE CITY OP FLOWERS. The beauty of Florence — Comparison with Rome — Cathedral and Campanile — Other interesting objects and localities — Poetry — Hiram Power — Fine arts — Rape of the Sabines — Ufiizi gallery — Michael Angelo— Pitti palace — The Flying Ass — Agricul- tural fair — Blasphemy of art 411 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXII. HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. Environs of Florence — Pisa — Grand illumination — Past and present — Leghorn — Pra- tolina — Summit of the Apennines — Covigliajo — Miniature volcano — Poveri Infe- lice — Harvest wages — Mountain scenery — Bologna — Ferrara — Padua — Venice again — The Peter Martyr — line churches — Solemn stillness of the city — Across Lombardy — The picturesque — Farewell to Italy — The Alps — The Tete Noire — Mag- nificent Iris — From Mont Blanc to London 422 CHAPTER XXXIII. METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. Forty-ninth cousin — Illustrious ancestry — Laying of a foundation-stone — Tea-party number one— Tea-party number two> — Tea-party number three — Tea-party number four — Tea-party number five — Tea-party number six — Tea-party number seven — Tea-party number eight — Anecdote of Mr. Spurgeon 437 CHAPTER XXXIV. PULPIT CELEBRITIES. Croly — Melvill — Hamilton — Sketch of the late Edward Irving — Critical estimate of "the modern Whitefield" 456 CHAPTER XXXV. PLEASANT VARIETIES. The Browns — Richmond Hill — Thomson — Bushy Park — Hampton Court — Cardinal Wolsey — Royal residents — Varieties — Great Western Railway — Official dignity — Clevedon — Myrtle Cottage — Promenade and prospect — Clevedon Court — Wrington — Weston Super Mare — Interesting antiquities 475 CHAPTER XXXVI. SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. Tender recollections — Uphill — The old church — Ancient fortifications — The Steep Holmes — A legend — The Flat Holmes — Bleadon Hobbs's boat — Lympsham church and rectory — Brent Knoll — Delightful view — Burnham and the rest 492 CHAPTER XXXVII. HEART -RE CORDS. Home of my childhood — Interesting colloquy — Across the daisy-fields to Lympsham — The Wesleyan chapel — Another colloquy— The parish church — The churchyard and its occupants — An old friend — East Brent church — South Brent church — An evening scene— The Burnham Bells — "Hail, Columbia!" 505 A YEAE IN EUROPE. CHAPTER I. INCIDENTS OP THE VOYAGE. A STORM — THE PERSIA — THE PASSENGERS — A WRECK — A FOG — WOR- SHIP "THE CERRRCLE" SUNRISE ANCHORAGE AN ATTACK OP BACCHUS AN ARREST A FATAL ACCIDENT A WARNING TO SMOK- ERS — WARM RECEPTION ON SHORE. To break the dull monotony Of an Atlantic trip, Sometimes, alas ! we ship a sea, And sometimes see a ship. Frances Osgood. It was past midday, on the sixth of December, 1856, when we took tender leave of our friends in Charleston, and stepped on board the steamship Nashville, as happy and hopeful a triad as ever embarked for a voyage. The wind blew rough and cold from the north-east, and dull leaden clouds hung over the sea, prophetic of a stormy passage, with gastric tribulation. And well did Boreas redeem his pledge, and large was the tribute which we severally paid to Neptune. Seldom, I ween, without actual shipwreck, have three seafarers suffered more in three days than we. But amidst it all, hope hung the heavens with rainbows, and 18 A YEAR IN EUROPE. every billow blossomed as it broke. Sallie beard Mozart's Zauber-Flote in tbe wailing of the winds, and steeped her soul in seas of Grerman melody. Jennie saw Raffaelle's Trans- figuration of the Redeemer, or Domenichino's Communion of Saint Jerome, in every cloud that sailed across the sky; and Venuses, and Apollos, and Mercurys, and Jupiters, con- stantly springing from the surf. As for the scribe, while he lay in the slumberous delirium of the mal de mer, or looked out from his little window upon the seething floods, every surge became a Brent-Knoll, and every sound of the waters brought the sweet murmur of Burnham Beach, and the wind that so fiercely contested our progress seemed odorous with the breath of cowslips from Lympsham, and primroses from Bleadon, and wallflowers from his grandmother's garden. On the morning of the ninth we are in New York, early enough to secure good state-rooms in the Persia, and enjoy an evening with Bishop Janes and his family, and some hours with sundry other friends of former years ; and at six the next evening, under a fair breeze and a full moon, with a sea as calm as the Cayuga, we stand bravely out to the broad Atlantic. How majestically beautiful is this floating palace, three hundred and ninety feet long, and built in four compartments, any one of which is deemed sufficient to keep her afloat if the others should fill with water ! On the deck, at the table, in the state-rooms, how admirable is the order observed, inspiring in the passengers a delightful con- fidence of security, and giving an attractiveness even to the sea ! Her population, exclusive of officers, sailors, and ser- vants, is a hundred and seventy souls, chiefly English, Irish, and Scotch, a few French and German, with a sprinkling of New England salt. There is a Roman Catholic bishop on board — quite plethoric enough for the profession — a talka- tive, intelligent, and altogether agreeable man ; with his brother, a well-informed gentleman, but rather too frank for INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE. 19 a Jesuit, who eight or ten years ago accompanied the enter- prising prelate on his "American mission," in the character of a priest, " rather by way of frolic than otherwise," and appears to have kept up his clerical fun ever since. We have also Mr. Osgood, the American artist, to our company - } a man of genial mood and various knowledge, with a history which ought to be written ; attended by his wife, an amiable lady, who has enjoyed the advantages of extensive travel. Opposite us at the table sit three British officers from Can- ada, one of them a son of the Lord Primate of Ireland, two of them well freighted with incidents of the Crimean cam- paign, and all of them overflowing with genuine Irish wit. A lady who has evidently seen something of the world, and is now returning to her home in the land of potatoes and of hearts, affords us much amusement with the accounts she gives us of her countrymen, whom she very seriously pro- nounces " the most generous, the most eloquent, and the most deceitful people in the world." Last, though not least, if you may judge from the attention shown him, especially by officers and stewards of the ship, here is Tom Thumb, alias Charles Stratton, nearly twenty years old, but less than three feet high, and as diminutive in intellect as in stature, with his mother, brother-in-law, and a fiscal agent, on his way to. England, where he is to spend the next two years in exhibiting his insignificance. Few were the incidents of our voyage. Some of us, chiefly the ladies, were pretty well occupied, especially when the weather was a little rough, with their own personal mat- ters ; and with the rest, conversation and reading made the time pass pleasantly. On the evening of the third day out we passed the hull of a large schooner, dismasted and apparently abandoned of her crew ; but did not pause, I know not why, to investigate her condition. On the Banks of Newfoundland, as generally happens, we were enveloped 20 A YEAR IN EUROPE. in a dense fog, through which a sail could not possibly have been seen a hundred yards ; yet the Persia never slackened her speed, but two men with tin horns at the bows blew perpetual warning to whatever might chance to be in our way, and every fifth minute the great steam-whistle sent ter- rific cautions over the deep. The Sabbath dawned. Worship, according to the ritual of Her Majesty's Church, must be performed on board Her Majesty's steamships. But in this instance, where is the clergyman ? There is none, and the captain must officiate. All hands are summoned, by the tolling of the bell, to the long dining-saloon. Most of the passengers are present, and as many of the sailors and stewards, I suppose, as can be spared from duty, making in all about three hundred per- sons. The bishop and the frolicking priest are not of the company, though evidently they ought, in all consistency, to recognize the principle which ignores the clerical character of the present scribe. We are all furnished with prayer- books, and the service is solemnly read, and the responses are general and hearty. In the midst of the prayers, the lay-parson very properly interpolates the petition of the Protestant Episcopal Church for "the President of the United States, and all others in authority." Then follows a sermon from Dr. Blair : " Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." Very appropriate, certainly; but no one can deny that Captain Judkins prays better than he preaches ; and I flatter myself, all ungowned as I am, I might have read that sermon quite as well myself. A very serious thought it is, that never in this world shall we all worship together again ; and most sincerely is the prayer breathed, at least by some of the wor- shippers, that we may all hereafter meet in heaven. Travellers on shipboard have often to pay for their inex- perience. One day I went to the bow, and stood looking INCIDENTS OP THE VOYAGE. 21 out over the sea. When I turned around, a sailor stood at my side, with a wrinkle of ineffable mischief in his face. "D'ye see, Serrr," said he, pointing to a chalk line which he had drawn around me upon the deck, " I've put ye in the cerrrcle !" "0 no," I replied, "that is not a circle — only a semicircle." "Faith," rejoined he, "and sure it isn't the likes of yer Honor that'll be getting off in that way : I thought yer Honor wouldn't mind giving a pore fellow the price of a terrrkey for Christmas." "And what is the price of a turkey ?''" I demanded. " 0, the matther of a dollar in Leverpole, or a dollar and a quarther for a fat one." I handed him fifty cents. " Indade, yer Honor," said he, with something akin to a sigh, "and ye wouldn't be afther put- ting us off with half a dollar : it isn't like yer counthry entirely." " But I fear you will spend that for whiskey," I answered. " I'm sure I never dhrinks a dhrop, yer Honor, nor haven't for these seven years agone; and besides, I've got a wife and fower children in Corrrk." For his elo- quence, more than his wit, I duplicated the fifty cents ; and enjoyed the giving quite as much, I doubt not, as he the receiving. It was the last morning of our voyage. A calmer sea, and a clearer sky, could not well be imagined. We were glid- ing along the coast of the Emerald Isle. With one of the young officers aforesaid, I went on deck to look at the frag- ments of an ancient castle. At the same moment the sun on the opposite side began to emerge from the watery hori- zon, clothed with so soft a radiance that the eye could gaze steadily upon him without pain. When about one-third of his form became visible, a ship under full sail, but so distant as to appear only a minute speck, passed slowly across his disk. Till it entered the edge of the sun, it was invisible; and as soon as its little transit was accomplished, became invisible again — an emblem of many things, chiefly of human life. 22 A YEAR IN EUROPE. During the following night we took a pilot, and before morning dropped anchor in the Mersey; having been just nine days and two hours, allowing for difference of time, between New York and Liverpool. What would have been thought of this fifty years ago ? When I first crossed the ocean, in 1825, we were nearly six weeks from Bristol to Quebec, and it was not regarded as a very tedious voyage. Verily, a little more speed, with the addition of the Sub- Atlantic Telegraph, would almost practically realize the Apocalyptic prophecy, "There shall be no more sea;" and whoever has experienced the horrors of sea-sickness — the true hydrophobia — or seen those whom he loves writhing in the exquisite indifference of that detestable epidemic of the deep, will surely say, "Amen." Two of our fellow-passengers had evidently suffered, dur- ing the night, a violent attack from Bacchus, for they were still reeling from the effect of his blows. One of them was a son of the Green Isle ; and our female friend, his shrewd countrywoman, satisfactorily accounted for his condition, by assuring us, as Miss Edgeworth had done before, that " drunkenness is the natural state of the Irish." Another, who was slightly convalescent, appeared drooping and mel- ancholy. I inquired after the cause. One of the company replied : " That gentleman sat up all night watching for the pilot." "And did he see him V said I. " yes," an- swered my informant, " he saw two." This was a country- man of ours. Before we went ashore, an officer, who had been sent for by the captain, came on board, and arrested one of our fel- low-passengers as a swindler. He had embarked at New York without paying his fare ; and when discovered, three days afterward, had but one and sixpence in his pocket. He called himself Baron somebody, and professed to have been an attachd of the Prussian Legation at Washington; but as INCIDENTS OP THE VOYAGE. 23 he could give no satisfactory account of his condition, he was sent forward to the second cabin. His manner was very peculiar, and some suspected his mental sanity, while others thought he must be laboring under some great sorrow, with which a stranger might not intermeddle. The captain, how- ever, seemed to be of a different opinion ; and as the poor man had neither friends nor money, he was sent to prison, and I never learned the sequel. Another case was still more melancholy. The second officer of the ship, soon after we came to anchor, received an accidental blow ; and on Monday they bore him to his grave. Pie was a handsome young man, noble-spirited, and full of genial soul. I had often admired his fine open countenance during the voyage, and had a pleasant chat with him the night before the accident, in which he spoke freely of his plans for the future, and dwelt with manifest pleasure upon his prospect of success ; but a sudden blight fell upon his blooming hopes, and his sun went down at noon j and how forcibly returned to me the text to which we had listened a few days before ! " Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." Of course we could not land till our baggage had passed'' the scrutiny of the custom-house officials. These worthy functionaries, however, were early at their posts, and fully sustained their reputation. 0, the pity, to see piles of manu- factured tobacco, and parcels of fragrant cigars, brought forth from their concealment among soiled linen and New York Heralds, ruthlessly turned out upon the deck, and remorselessly taxed from ten to twenty shillings per pound ! Verily, it was almost enough to make one subscribe to the long-exploded maxim : " Honesty is the best policy." And then, the unprofitable rage of some of the innocent propri- etors, who of course never thought of violating or evading the law, though they had ten times the quantity of tobacco 24 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ■ and cigars that the law allows free of duty; and the silent shame with which others of them opened their unwilling wallets, and gathered up their costly luxuries — ah ; was it not " a caution I" Sensible reader, hadst thou been there, thou wouldst have forsworn Havanas for ever ! But tell me, ye travelled sages, why are these inquisitors of contraband wares so particular in the examination of ladies' apparel ? Does the fact imply a tacit imputation upon the honesty of the sex ? It was so here ; it was so every- where upon the continent. Frequently, when the scribe's baggage passed unopened, that of his fair travelling compan- ions was quite narrowly scrutinized. In the present in- stance, however, we came off much better than some of the rest. Whether it was because I waited patiently till they were weary of their cruel work, or because our trunks had a look of honest leanness, and ourselves no odor of the Indian weed ; for some reason or another, these faithful servants of Her Majesty gave us very little trouble, opening only one of our three pieces, and peeping into the folds of the first robe de chambre they discovered. Before ten the ordeal was over, a passport pasted on every box and parcel, and we prepared to set foot upon Her Ma- jesty's soil. But the excitement of the morning, in addi- tion to her recent sea-sickness, had proved too much for poor Sallie's nervous system, and she was found in violent spasms upon her state-room floor. This accident delayed our land- ing an hour or two ; but when at length we landed, most marvellous were the courtesies which we received. Monsieur la Grenouille is generally reputed the politest specimen of the genus homo; but if this was a true exhibition of the character of John Bull, his neighbor across the Channel must certainly yield him the palm. No sooner had our sole- leather touched the wharf, than each of us was assailed by at least a dozen persons, men and boys ; every one of whom INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE. 25 seemed ready, from excess of kindness, to tear us to pieces, or swallow us alive. Such pushing and pulling, such thrust- ing and thumping, I certainly never saw in my life ; with all sorts of menacing and reviling; with noises articulate, and noises inarticulate; but no bowie-knives, nor shillelahs. Taking Sallie by the two arms, we ran the gauntlet for about two hundred yards, and took refuge in the first carriage we came to ; but before we had time to recover breath for mu- tual congratulation on our fortunate escape, a dozen heads were thrust in at the windows, vociferously demanding pay for procuring hacks, and carrying trunks, and all sorts of services which we had not received. Jehu saved us by driv- ing suddenly away, and left the clamorous throng gazing and running and shouting after us ; but for which merciful incivil- ity of Jehu, there is no telling what might have been our fate. Somehow, as by whirlwind — I never did understand the pre- cise manner — we soon reached the Adelphi, where we found ourselves in comfortable quarters, and where we remained forty-eight hours, and had all our wants supplied, for the moderate sum of £5.11s.6d — a little more than $26.50 ! 2G A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER II. MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. DOCKSS AND SHIPPING — HISTORICAL AND ARCHITECTURAL — THE REV. THOMAS RAFFLES, D. D. THE REV. HUGH M'NEIL, D. D. CHARI- TABLE INSTITUTIONS SCHOOLS AND SOCIETIES LIBRARIES AND MUSEUMS WILLIAM ROSCOE MR. THACKERAY. His words had such a melting flow, And spoke the truth so sweetly well, They dropped like heaven's serenest snow, And all was brightness where they fell. ' The two things most likely to strike a stranger on enter- ing Liverpool are its docks and its shipping. The former extend along the right bank of the Mersey nearly or quite five miles, and have cost in their construction several mil- lions sterling. The area of one of them is ten acres, and of another fifteen. They are so united that vessels may pass from one to another without entering the river. The Huskison Dock, for the ocean steamers, is of great strength and vast extent. The shipping, crowded together, and packed as closely as possible, along the whole line, looks like a forest stripped of its verdure. The number of ships belonging to the port is reckoned at twenty-two thousand, their aggregate tonnage at four and a half millions of tons ; and the exports are said to exceed by many millions not MATTEES AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 27 only those of London ; but those of all the other ports of the kingdom. The history of Liverpool is full of interest. The name is derived from Lower Pool. As a borough, it is about seven hundred years old. It has a population of nearly or quite five hundred thousand. A hundred and fifty years ago there was only one person in it — Madam Clayton — who kept a carriage. The first public conveyance for passengers went hence to London in the year 1757, starting once a week, and performing the journey in four days. Some five or six railway trains now go every day, measuring the distance in seven hours. There was formerly a castle here and a tower, no traces of either of which are now to be found. The origin of the former is not known, but it is supposed to have been of very great antiquity. In John Howard's time it was used as a prison, and he visited its inmates as an angel of mercy. Liverpool has something more than two hundred places of worship ; forty of which belong to the Establishment, four- teen to the Wesleyans, eleven to the Papists, ten to the Baptists, eight to the Kirk of Scotland, seven to the Inde- pendents, three to the Unitarians, and above ninety to various other sects. Saint George's Hall is an imposing structure— one of the very finest in England. Saint John's Market exceeds any thing of the sort I ever saw at home ; and when lighted up at night looks decidedly attractive. Saint James's Cemetery is a great curiosity in its way — a deep excavation in the rocks — originally a quarry, but now converted into a repository for the dead. Legh Richmond was born in Liverpool, and so was Felicia Hemans, and many other notable personages. But let me speak of the living. I had for many years been familiar with the fame of tho Reverend Thomas Raffles, D. D., successor and biographer of the lamented Thomas Spencer, and confessedly the most 28 A YEAR IN EUROPE. elegant preacher in England. Through the politeness of Mr. James, a fellow-passenger on board the Persia, and an officer in Dr. Raffles's church, I obtained a seat with him on Sabbath morning. The edifice is spacions and beautiful. It has a gallery all around, one end of which is occupied by the choir and a powerful organ. The seats below are semi- circular, so that every hearer sits facing the preacher. At the moment the bell ceased tolling, a venerable and very be- nignant-looking man ascended the pulpit; and after a few moments spent in silent prayer, and a few more in arranging the book-marks, commenced the service. The very first tones of his voice stirred the depths of my soul. I never heard a hymn read more naturally, more touchingly, in my life. Then followed a lesson from the Old Testament, a long prayer, full of subdued and holy pathos, a second hymn, another long prayer, and finally the sermon. The preacher had chosen for his text the words of Saint Paul : " I have a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." It seems that some lady member of his flock, a person of great worth, had died during the week, and this was the funeral sermon. Most delightfully did the preacher dwell on the Christian's departure, his residence with Christ, and its contrast with his present state. The church will seat twenty-five hundred ; it was full above and below ; and throughout the whole discourse the audience sat as if perfectly entranced by the speaker. When he came to speak of the deceased, of what the church had lost in one of its most devoted members, and what he had lost in one of his most valued friends, his deep musical voice became tremulous with emotion, and the tears flowed freely down his venerable face. The manner in which he commands the profoundest attention of his hearers, and sways their feelings at will, after having ministered to them for more than thirty years, is a very remarkable testimony to his MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 29 superior talents and piety. At the close of the service Mr. James conducted me into the vestry, and gave me a personal introduction to the preacher. I told him that I had long known him through his writings, especially his Life of Spencer ; that I had first read that work about twenty-five years ago, and it proved a great blessing to me in the earlier part of my ministry. He replied, with a delightful warmth : " This is not the first time, my brother, that I have had occasion to thank God that I ever wrote that book." "We then conversed about Spencer, and passed from him to the American ministry ; and when I arose to depart, he invited me very cordially to tea with him in the evening, but other engagements obliged me to decline. The evening came, and we went to hear another famous divine of Liverpool — the Keverend Hugh McNeil, D. D. A cab-drive of twenty minutes brought us to a very large cruciform church, in one of the suburbs of the city. A man in a black gown met us in the aisle, and conducted us to seats near the pulpit. In, a few moments Dr. McNeil and his curate entered the reading-desk together. The prayers were read by the latter, the lessons by the former. After this he ascended the pulpit, offered a brief extempore prayer, then stood up, with a small pocket Bible in his hand, and began his sermon. His voice is like the bass of an organ, and he manages it with admirable skill. His enunciation is remarkably distinct, and occasionally his em- phasis is terrible. There were passages in the discourse when every sentence fell upon the heart like rough masses of ice. His manner and style furnish a perfect contrast to those of Dr. Raffles. He is entirely conversational, and there seems to be no effort at eloquence ; but whoever hears him must feel that the preacher is deeply in earnest, and there are occasional paragraphs of overwhelming power. His elocution reminds one of Dr. Samuel H. Cox, of Brook- 30 A YEAR IN EUROPE. lyn, or Dr. Lyman Beecher, of Boston, though it is more varied than either, and somewhat more effective. His stylo is concise and sententious, but not mechanical — occasionally, when it suits the thought, quite rough and angular. The Rev. Dr. Gumming lately said to me : " Make Dr. McNeil's voice a barytone, and give him a little more personal majesty, and a great deal more pomp of diction, and you have Edward Irving : even as he is, he approaches Irving more nearly than any man I ever heard ; but he is not equal to Irving." Dr. McNeil is a staunch Millennarian, and puts forth his views of the end in all his preaching. " I say- nothing of the time/' said he; "I know nothing of that: there is a prophetic chronology, and those who make it longest bring the end now very near." Terrible, indeed, was the picture which he drew of the last days — the out- pouring of the vials of wrath upon the guilty nations of Christendom. Severely did he lash the sins of England — dishonesty, hypocrisy, political corruption, spiritual wicked- ness in high places. " Whatever the judgment be, and whenever it come," said he, " be assured Britain shall have her share ; and whatever that share, she has deserved it : there is blood upon her gold, her hands are full of bribes, and the sufferings of her poor appeal to Heaven !" One would think Dr. McNeil, from his physiognomy, rather dogmatical, perhaps ; yet he does not dogmatize, but treads lightly and cautiously whenever he approaches the limits of controversy. It seemed strange to me to hear one of the most famous men of the English Church preaching an hour and a quarter without notes, and with all the force and fervor that an American Methodist could desire; but so preached that evening the Rev. Dr. McNeil, and it was a specimen of his ordinary preaching. No man in Liverpool wields a greater moral power than he. "Ah, but he is a firebrand in the Church, sir," said a railway fellow-traveller MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 31 the next day; "he can never be quiet himself, nor suffer others to be quiet." " Would to Heaven," I answered, " there were many more such firebrands in the Church ! the clergy have been quiet too long, and Rome has been reaping England while her husbandmen have slept." " But he is perfectly fanatical, sir; he is equal to the "Wesleyans." "And you could hardly pay him a higher compliment : but for the Wesleyan revival, it is difficult to say what would now have been the condition of the Establishment ; it is undeniably much better than it was when Wesley began his career." My friend thought it " vain to reason with one as fanatical as McNeil himself," and here ended our conversa- tion. But that Sabbath in Liverpool will ever be remem- bered as one of the great days of my life. Before I take leave of this interesting city, I ought to say something of its charitable institutions, for the multiplica- tion and promotion of which no man has done more than Dr. McNeil. They are very numerous, and highly creditable to the community. " The magnitude and stateliness of the buildings devoted to benevolent purposes, and the enormous sums of money contributed for their support, furnish an interesting illustration of the expansive power of Christian- ity upon the human heart. It is often urged against such institutions that their influence upon character is injurious to society; that reliance upon eleemosynary aid is unfavorable to that spirit of independence so essential to industry; that indiscriminate charity produces selfishness and indolence, and thus creates the evils which it aims to cure ; that the keen sense of want is the strongest impulse to labor, and virtue itself would be unpracticed but for the sharp goad- ings of necessity. There may be something of truth in all this ; but without such institutions, what were the condition of the English, and what the world's estimate of English Christianity ? True, men ought not to bo taught, if it can 32 A YEAR IN EUROPE. be avoided, that they may live more easily by idleness than by industry ; but this is one of the incidental evils attendant upon systematic benevolence, and it were certainly better that some should abuse the bounty of their benefactors, than that ten times the number should perish without a helper. The multiplication of charities, therefore, is after all a safe subject of congratulation among Christians; and if vicious indolence will take such unworthy advantage of our philan- thropy, the responsibility is wholly its own, and constitutes no justification of our indifference to the cries of suffering humanity. Among the most excellent institutions of Liverpool are those for the education of poor children. The war so long and nobly waged in their behalf has at length been crowned with complete victory. The acquisition of useful knowledge by the child is now admitted to be necessary to the welfare of the future man, and the proper discipline of the youthful mind and heart is practically recognized as the only perma- nent safety to society. The community seem to have awak- ened to the conviction that intelligence is essential to virtue, and that the union of the two constitutes the true basis of prosperity. The Parochial Schools, thirty-five in number, the Industrial Schools, where more than a thousand children are collected for education, and the Corporation Schools, which receive annually £2500 of the public money, are doing a noble work; and so are the Hibernian and Caledonian Schools, and the Schools of the "Wesleyans, the Independents, and other religious bodies. The Blue Coat Hospital educates nearly four hundred orphans, at an expense of not less than £4500 per annum. There are two other orphan asylums, which accommodate three hundred children, an admirable Seminary for the Training of Governesses, a School for the Deaf and Dumb, a School for the Indigent Blind, numerous Koman Catholic schools, a Jewish Educational Institute, and MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 33 I know not what beside, all supported, in part at least, by charity. The hospitals, infirmaries, dispensaries, lunatic asylums, and the magnificent Sailors' Home, I pass over with a mere mention, as also the alms-houses, the Victuallers' Asso- ciation, the numerous ragged -schools, and Shoe-black Bri- gades. Nor can I dwell upon the Bible societies, prayer- book societies, homily societies, pastoral societies, Protestant societies, church-building societies, missionary societies, Sun- day-school societies, Scripture-readers' societies, religious tract societies, evangelical continental societies, societies for the promotion of Christian knowledge at home, and societies for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts. And then you must add friendly societies, and brotherly societies, and mariners' societies, and provident societies, and Hibernian societies, and Caledonian societies, and emigration societies, and strangers' friend societies, and reformed pickpocket societies, and societies for the relief of distressed foreigners, and societies for the rescue of unfortunate females, and societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals, and fifteen or twenty more to complete the catalogue. The Free Library contains fifteen thousand volumes ; arid, together with the valuable museum, it is open to all classes, without distinction. There is another large library at the Athenaeum, instituted in 1797, containing many rare and curious works collected by the learned Roscoe, with speci- mens of the earliest periodical literature of Liverpool : the "Courant," of 1712, the "Advertiser," of 1756, the "Com- mercial Register," of 1766, the last-named having the fol- lowing notice: "For sale, by the candle, the hull of the Snow Molly. N. B. — Three young men, slaves, to be sold at the same time." The Royal Institute, founded by Wil&am. Roscoe in 1814, is one of the noblest and best conducted institutions of the city. It has connected with it a perma- nent gallery of arts ; the lower apartment filled with casts of d4 A YEAR IN EUROPE, the Elgin, Egina, and Phigalian marbles ; the upper exhibit- ing many good specimens of the ancient masters, with the whole rich collection of Roscoe ; and at one end of the room, a noble statue of the poet, executed by Sir Thomas Chan- trey, reminding the visitor of the beautiful lines addressed to him by one who knew how to estimate his character : Favored beyond each towering tree or grove, Glad and for ever green the laurel stands, Not to be plucked but by heroic hands, And sacred to the majesty of Jove: No lightning flash may smite it from above, No whirlwinds rend it from its rooted bands : Obedient to their master's high commands, They spare the chosen plant he deigns to love. So, midst the tumults of this mortal state, While thunders burst around and storms assail, The good man stands with eye and brow serene, In cloud or sunshine still inviolate, Confiding in a trust that cannot fail, A sacred laurel glad and ever green. Mr. Thackeray had just finished his lectures on the Four Georges when we arrived in Liverpool, and the press was handling him with great severity. Several passages pro- nounced in America seem to have been eliminated since his return to England, at least were omitted when he lectured in Liverpool. I suppose they were written for republican ears, and not for those of royalists. A Scotch reviewer says he goes through the house of Hanover as a policeman goes through the city, taking no notice of virtue and decency, but looking out everywhere for mischief and villainy. There is doubtless much justice in the criticism; but what would the critic say of what we heard a year before in Charleston ? And why should a public lecturer turn all history into satire ? Why should he dwell exclusively on the rascality of royalty, MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 35 the hypocrisy of prelates, the quarrels and intrigues of cour- tiers, the faults and infirmities of greatness ? Was there nothing good or virtuous, nothing worthy of love or com- mendation ? Why, then, is it all ignored ? Is it because a fair and honest narration of historic facts "would not win so many hearers, or gather so many pounds into the lecturer's purse ? But is it right or honorable for a man of letters, like Mr. Thackeray, to accumulate gold by such means, and seek the applause of the living by caricaturing the dead ? Is it right or honorable for the mgst popular lecturer of the day to subordinate his noble talents, and all the arts of elo- quence, to the degradation of human character, already, doubtless, sufficiently degraded ; and make the finest diction, the keenest epigram, the most brilliant antithesis, and an elocution universally admired, the instruments of gain or glory to himself, and of infamy to those whose tongues have long been silent in the sepulchre ? 3G A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER III. A "WEEK IN LONDON. RAILWAY TRAVEL — GREATNESS OF LONDON — A MORNING MIST — OUR LODGINGS CHARGES CAB - DRIVERS SERVANTS THE POOR WEST- MINSTER ABBEY GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE NEW PARLIAMENT BUILD- INGS BRITISH MUSEUM THE TOWER DR. GUMMING MR. SPURGEON. The lady she sate and she played on her lute, And she sung, "Will you come to the bower?" The sergeant-at-arms had stood hitherto mute, And now he advanced, like an impudent brute, And he said, "Will you come to the Tower V Monday morning, the twenty-first, in company with Mr. and Mrs. Osgood, we set forth for the far-famed British Babylon. The landscape of green fields and brown hedges, hills and vales, pools and streams, parks and gardens, mea- dows and orchards, mansions and cottages, farm-houses and factories, church-towers and smoke-steeples, grazing herds and trudging kettle-smocks, pretty rural villages and im- measurable heaps of coal, seemed one long piece of tapestry, unrolling at our side, as we rushed forward to our destina- tion. In eight hours we were comfortably settled in the heart of the civilized world. 0, what a pulse goes out hence to the extremities, throbbing not only throughout Europe and America, but also in India, China, Africa, and the islands of remotest seas ! A WEEK IN LONDON, 37 It is not easy to comprehend the greatness of London. Panoramas, descriptions, statistics, give the stranger but meagre ideas of it. One must see it, and thread its labyrin- thian thoroughfares, and mingle with its teeming population, and hear the eternal din of its manifold activities. Yet if f figures can help thee, arithmetical reader, think of 1691 births within an area of eight miles by five, the number actually registered for the week of our sojourn in the city. Think of 2,500,000 people — princes, nobles, bishops, divines, authors, teachers, soldiers, merchants, craftsmen, coachmen, cabmen, idlers, beggars, swindlers, gamblers, scavengers, cour- tesans, policemen, pickpockets, burden-bearers, ballad-singers, organ-grinders, besides Punch and Judy, with myriads of tran- sient sojourners from every part of the world — good and bad, great and small, wise and simple, clean and unclean, clothed and unclothed, housed and unhoused, huddled and heaped together, within so small a space, along the banks of a nar- row ditch, bridged above, tunnelled below, and thick with filth between. Think of 1,600,000 quarters of wheat, 240,- 000 bullocks, 1,700,000 sheep, 28,000 calves, 32,000 pigs, 4,000,000 salmon, 5,000,000 codfish, 2,500,000 soles, oysters and eels innumerable, sprats and shrimps incalculable, with whole mountains of cabbage, cauliflower, potatoes, turnips, carrots, parsnips, onions, beets, beans, peas, apples, peaches, plums, pears, grapes, currants, apricots, nectarines, medlars, untold quantities of butter and cheese, and a thousand other things, eatable and uneatable, annually washed down these human throats by* 43,200,000 gallons of malt liquors, 2,000,- 000 gallons or more of distilled spirits, 65,000 pipes of vil- lainous compounds called wines, and not less than 1,500,000 hogsheads of milk. Think of 24,000 tailors for ever plying the needle and the goose to furnish coats for all these backs ; 30,000 seamstresses making shirts and trousers for them; 28,000 hatters toiling to keep their heads covered from the d8 A YEAR IN EUROPE. cold; 35,000 shoemakers stitching and hammering for the welfare of their feet; 40,000 milliners and mantuamakers to adorn their maids and matrons; 180,000 domestic ser- vants to minister to their needs and luxuries; 300,000 clerks selling them dry-goods and groceries ; and I know not how many editors and printers laboring for their information and amusement. This is London ! Now, if thou wilt remember that during the winter seventy thousand tons of coal, chiefly bituminous, are consumed every day within this crowded area, thou wilt not wonder at the everlasting twilight, and the occasional noonday dark- ness, in which the city is enveloped. The " London fog," as famous as London itself, consists of smoke mingling with the vapor which arises from the Thames, the sewers, and all damp and shady places. It is like nothing else in heaven or earth. Sometimes it is as green as a June-bug; but this is not the genuine, and a slight change in the barometer con- verts it into a white mist, and a gentle breeze soon lifts it away. At other times it is as yellow as pea-soup ; this is the prime article, a more solid and sensible than which even Pharaoh's capital could hardly have furnished — the very thing described in these lines by Henry Luttrel : First at the dawn of lingering day, It rises of an ashy gray ; Then deep'ning with a sordid stain Of yellow, like a lion's mane. Vapor importunate and dense, It is at once with every sense. The ears escape not: all around Keturns a dull, unwonted sound. Loth to stand still, afraid to stir, The chilled and puzzled passenger, Oft blundering from the pavement, fails To feel his way along the rails; Or at the crossings, in the roll Of every carriage, dreads the pole. A WEEK IN LONDON. 39 Scarce an eclipse with pall so dun Blots from the face of heaven the sun. But soon a thicker, darker cloak Wraps all the town, behold, in smoke, Which steam-compelling trade disgorges- From all her furnaces and forges. In pitchy clouds too dense to rise, It falls rejected from the skies ; Till struggling day, extinguished quite, At noon gives place to candle-light. It has been ascertained, by accurate observation, that the London fog seldom rises much more than two hundred feet above the surface of the Thames. Therefore, the dwellers in the more elevated suburbs and environs enjoy an air of preeminent salubrity, while the lungs of those who inhabit the lower localities of the city are filtering the foulest atmo- sphere. Fifty-four years ago, Wordsworth sat on Westmin- ster Bridge, and wrote this charming sonnet : Earth has not any thing to show more fair; Dull would be he of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning: silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples, lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor valley, rock, or hill: Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep: The river glideth at its own sweet will: Bear God! the very houses seem asleep, And all that mighty heart is lying still! A beautiful picture, but it was drawn in September, and such September mornings may sometimes be seen in the metropolis. Who ever saw such a morning here in Decern- 40 A YEAE IN EUEOPE. ber ? Did we, during a week's sojourn, even behold the face of the sun? Twice or thrice we caught a momentary glimpse of a large round thing hanging in the sky, about the color of a dingy copper kettle, upon which one might gaze for an hour, were it ever visible so long, without the slightest visual inconvenience ; and this, we were told, with apparent seriousness, was the sun ; and the English sun per- haps it was, but I am sure it was not the sun we are accus- tomed to see in America; for besides being altogether of a different hue, it neither rose nor set at the same point of the compass ; and one morning, as I can most confidently testify, it did not rise at all till after ten o'clock, for at that hour the lamps were still burning in the street. "And this," we said one to another, "is a London fog;" but they laughed at our simplicity, and assured us it was " only a morning mist." I went out and walked in it, but it seemed much better adapted for swimming in, and reminded me of the waters of the Asphaltic sea. One might almost have cut the atmosphere into slices, or rolled it up into balls. It must have been in London that Byron wrote his " Dream of Dark- ness," "which was not all a dream." The mention of Byron reminds me that our lodgings were within a minute's walk of those of the poet in 1811, and still nearer the house in which Rogers lived, and wrote, and died. Hard by, in another direction, is the spot where the historian of the Roman Empire breathed his last; and but a little farther off, the place where the author of " The Faerie Queen" perished for lack of bread. And here, a few doors from us, is the building in which Joseph Addison produced many of his finest papers ; and yonder the square around which Johnson and Savage walked all night because, like a Greater, they had not where to lay their heads. And A WEEK IN LONDON. 41 within hailing distance is the famous Alinack's, St. James's Palace, the lodgings of Pope, and the window where poor Grillray threw himself headlong to destiny. One would think that in such a locality we must have grown philoso- phic, sentimental, ambitious, or desperate ; yet I do not per- ceive that our classical environments wrought any particular change in our mental moods or habitudes, and we left " 42 St. James's Place" much as we entered, though with a somewhat lighter purse, and a slightly less favorable opinion of "furnished apartments" and their proprietors. We lived here very quietly in our " own hired house," eating our own bread and cheese, and paying plentifully for the privilege. The Londoners excel the Yankees both in charging and in cheating. You are asked three guineas a week for a suite of rooms, and that is to include fires, cook- ing, service, and every thing else except your food, which you are to furnish yourself; but when you come to settle your bill, you find fifty small items of which you had never dreamed; and, to avoid words, you quietly pay double the original stipulation, and purchase a little wisdom for future emergencies. The cab-drivers perpetually practice a similar game. You will rarely find an honest man among them. The law obliges them to have' the printed terms of conveyance on the inside of their vehicles, yet they seldom fail to charge a stranger double or treble the amount. The proper way to deal with them is to say, " Your fare is eighteen pence," or whatever the sum may be ; and if they refuse to take it, put the money back into your pocket, or make them drive you to a police office for settlement. If you ask them their price, «, t and pay what they demand, you are sure to be " taken in and done for." I speak from experience. The English servants are doubtless the best in the world — the best trained, the most polite and respectful. But they are 42 A YEAR IN EUROPE. poorly paid. The lady in whose house we lodged employs a man and his wife, and pays hoth together about one hundred and fifty dollars per annum; they furnishing their own tea, cof- fee, sugar, and the like. Some get a little more ; but wages in general are extremely low. Many of these people would gladly come to America, if they could manage to get here ; and several of them solicited us to take them with us on our return, offering to pay their fare by their subsequent services. All butlers, coachmen, etc., wear white cravats — I suppose, because they are ministers. To advertisements for household servants in the newspapers, one frequently meets with this significant addendum: "No Irish need apply." On board the Persia, I was solemnly assured, by one of. the sages of Albion, that the unhappy condition of the " English poor is constantly exaggerated by the American press ; that no other country on the face of the earth pro- vides so liberally for. the indigent and the unfortunate ; that overwork on the one hand, and want of employment on the other, are far less frequent than Brother Jonathan represents them ; and that beggary and starvation are entirely unneces- sary — the result only of improvidence, indolence, and crime. Perhaps it is so; but certainly I saw more indications of pinching want and absolute wretchedness during the week we spent in London, than have met my observation in the United States for twenty years. There are five hundred charitable institutions in the city and its suburbs, supported at an annual outlay of nearly two millions sterling; yet the streets are full of ragged boys, barefooted girls, mendicant musicians, hunger-stricken countenances, sickly-looking men begging bread for their wives, and half-famished women for their babes. Early on Christmas morning, an aged female in rags, and a shivering little maiden without shoes, strfuck up a Christmas carol beneath our window, singing for a A WEEK IN LONDON. 43 brealrfast. They had scarcely ended, when a company of young boys, some five or sis, very thinly clad, and haggard and woe-begone as human beings well could be, took their place. During the day I met with at least fifty such parties, wailing their joyous numbers; and my heart sung, when I saw them, "Hail, Columbia, happy land!" Our first visit was to the British Pantheon, "Westminster Abbey, where apotheosized greatness lies in its glory. We walked over the ashes and among the monuments of princes and statesmen, poets and orators, philosophers and philan- thropists. In these solemn aisles and sombre chambers, genius and royalty repose side by side, and the tomb of the actress is hard by that of the queen. Here hands that penned imperishable thoughts are mouldered into dust, and tongues that entranced the .listening thousands are silenced till the resurrection. "•Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 'Twill trickle to his rival's bier: O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound." Joseph Addison lies sepulchred in immortality where once he loved to walk for the " agreeable melancholy" which " the gloominess of the place and the solemnity of the build- ing" were apt to produce in his mind; and near him are Mans- field, Canning, Grattan, and William Wilberforce. Richard Brindsley Sheridan sleeps, with Samuel Johnson, David G-arrick, and Thomas Parr, within a few feet of the tombs of ten sovereigns. Among all these great names, none is more fragrant than that of Elizabeth Pry, who has a record here among those whom -the nation " delighteth to honor." And here are the monuments of Chaucer, Milton, Spenser, Shakspeare, Dryden, Drayton, Cowley, Butler, Goldsmith, 44 AYEARINEUROPE. Southey, Prior, Cowper, and Campbell, "who are precious in the retrospect of memory, and walk among the visions of hope." Many a pleasant hour have I spent in companion- ship with some of these, even in a distant land. Often have they furnished me food for profitable thought, and eyes for the appreciation of nature ; and often has the sweet witch- ery of their verse stirred the deep fountains of my soul. The last enemy has no respect for genius and worth ; and to these, and all the rest, with slight modification, may be applied the quaint inscription on the tablet to William Lau- rence, erected in 1621 : "Short-hand he "wrote; his flowere in prime did fade, And hasty death short-hand of him hath made." But thought and melody are immortal ; and while all that was perishable of the poet lies in the voiceless and oblivious tomb, his numbers, like the harp of Orpheus, still charm the living world. "Dead he is not, but departed; For the author never dies." Hugh Miller thinks Westminster Abbey far inferior in beauty and grandeur to St. Paul's Cathedral; and the Gothic architecture in general a much lower and less exquisite pro- duction of the human mind than the Grecian. It may be deemed presumption in me to differ with the great geologist; but differ with him I certainly shall ; for what judge is he in matters ecclesiologieal, and what business has he with things above ground, who groped all his lifelong like a mole beneath the surface of our planet ? The hollow caverns of the earth are his province; its fossils and rocky strata; the 14 coal measures," and the " old red sandstone." / Moreover, the author of " First Impressions of England" never tra- velled beyond the limits of his native isle — never saw the A WEEK IN LONDON. 45 Cathedral of Cologne, of Rouen, of Strasbourg, nor the marble miracle of Milan, nor the matchless spire of St. Stephen's, nor Giotto's incomparable Campanile. Let a man look at these, and not form his estimate of Gothic architec- ture from Westminster Abbey, ungothicized by Sir Christo- pher Wren. Let him look at these, and pace their solemn aisles, and wander among their stately colonnades and statued pinnacles, and survey their massive buttresses and delicate tracery, "With storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light;" and his taste must be of a different order from mine, and must have passed through a different process of culture, if he can then pronounce the gorgeous sublimity of the Gothic architecture inferior in impression to the severe simplicity of the old Grecian models. The new Parliament Building is a magnificent failure, an all too costly toy. . Most of the rooms are inconveniently small, and some of them are foolishly adorned. The Victo- ria Tower, carried a hundred and fifty feet higher, would have been worth looking at ; but as it is, that immense heap of fine material, with all its affluence of artistic decoration, might about as well have been thrown into the Thames. The Clock Tower is a graceful structure, with an ugly pyra- mid at the top, the mere gilding of which cost enough to feed all London for half a year or more. The great bell — " Big Ben," as it has been christened — weighs sixteen tons, and had a very musical tone, though not the pure harmonic, like that at Florence ; but lately it has been fractured, and will require recasting. We walked through the parks of London, and rode through its principal thoroughfares, and took a peep at its palaces and prisons, which externally present a very similar aspect, 46 A YEAR IN EUROPE. especially St. James's and Newgate. We crossed all the bridges of the Thames, and made the tour of its* marvellous Tunnel, that most ingenious and least useful of modern achievements; and, with the waggish "Dun Browne," we wondered " how it could cost so much money to dig so small a hole." We spent some pleasant hours at the British Mu- seum, where we saw every thing we expected to see, with many things we had never dreamed of seeing — pictures, statues, torsos, gods and goddesses, emperors and orators, monstrous pre'adamite fossils, mummies from the pyramids, and winged lions from Nineveh — an astonishing and instruct- ive collection — a many-volumed history of earth and. man. We visited the Tower, and for a shilling apiece were shown the Regalia, consisting of crowns, circlets, and diadems of gold ; with staves and sceptres, swords and crosses, the royal spurs, and many other ornaments, all of gold, glistening with gems, among which flamed the glorious Kohinoor ; be- sides the ancient kings of Britain in their iron and brazen mail; the "Traitor's Gate," at which state prisoners of old were forced to enter — through which " Went Sydney, Russel, Raleigh, Cranmer, More" — through which passed the Princess Elizabeth, exclaiming, "Here landeth as true a subject as ever landed at these stairs, and before thee, God, I speak it !" the dungeon in which Sir Walter Raleigh wrote his " Political Discourses," and began his "History of the World;" other dungeons, with the names and woes of those who suffered in them, and many an appeal to Heaven against the injustice of their im- prisonment, rudely engraven by their own hands upon - the walls ; the block on which Lady Jane Grey, and Anne Bo- leyn, and Catharine Howard, were-beheaded; and the iden- tical axe that completed the triumph of Cromwell, by A WEEK IN LONDON. 47 severing the neck of Charles the First ; with other splendors and horrors " too numerous to mention." Sabbath morning we sat under the ministry o£ Dr. Gum- ming at Crown Court. His prayer was appropriate, but nothing remarkable. His Scripture lesson was followed with an exposition, clear, comprehensive, and very beautiful, occupying fifteen or twenty minutes. His sermon was just like one of Dr. Cumming's lectures, and no person familiar with his writings ever could have mistaken it for any thing else. There were passages in it of considerable beauty, but nothing bold or striking. We were wafted along by a gentle breeze, on a smooth and placid stream, lined with the vernal emerald, with here and there a gay bank of prim- roses, and a cluster of sweet-breathing violets-, while the soft air trembled with the mellow symphonies of birds, and the chiming of silver bells ; but there was no Niagara, no thun- der-cloud upon the deep, no tornado in the forest, no trum- pet summoning to the battle, nothing to stir and stimulate the soul, though there was much to interest, to gratify, and to soothe. The manner was suited to the matter — gentle, winning, faultless, except that it was rather too fine — too manifestly studied and artistic; the voice, very pleasing; the enunciation, remarkably clear and precise; the gesticu- lation graceful, dignified, and appropriate ; the entire elocu- tion, indeed, finished and elegant to the last degree. Dr. Cumming is a very popular preacher, and a pastor universally beloved. After having ministered to the same flock for twenty-five years, the place is still crowded every Sabbath to its utmost capacity. Presiding over one of the largest churches in England, he manages to publish two or three duodecimo volumes a year. After service, I had an inter- view with him in the vestry, and found him very cordial and agreeable. He said he was quite partial to American books, fuund in them a certain freshness and vigor of thought with 48 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ■which he was always delighted, and should hope some day to make the personal acquaintance of some of our writers on their own &ee soil, were it not for his " dread of that broad Atlantic." In the evening we went to hear Mr. Spurgeon. By pre- vious arrangement with the sexton, we were at the Great New Park Street Chapel an hour before the time of service ; and though the weather was extremely disagreeable, we found a crowd of people, women as well as men, waiting for admittance, and two or three policemen on duty. When the side gate was unlocked for our party, there was a rush to effect an entrance, and the policemen were obliged to inter- fere. We were shown to a convenient seat, not far from the pulpit. Soon the pewholders came thronging in, and every seat was occupied. Then the doors were thrown open, and galleries and aisles were instantly filled, and multitudes still stood without in the drizzling rain, to catch if possible a sentence or a word. At the appointed moment, a short, fat, fresh, round-faced, good-natured-looking youth, ascended the pulpit — a huge, unhandsome box, elevated about ten feet above the audience — knelt a moment in silent prayer, then rose and read a psalm, with great emphasis, in a full, clear, powerful voice, more remarkable for volume than for either compass or melody. The precentor, standing behind a little desk at the foot of the pulpit, announced the tune, and led forth the music ; when the whole congregation fell to, and sung "as the voice of many waters." The reverend gen- tleman then read a short lesson from the New Testament, explaining every verse as he proceeded ; and the very first sentence of the exposition was a bold and unqualified enun- ciation of the Genevan dogma of unconditional election, founded upon the Evangelical statement, that " Jesus took three of his disciples up into a mountain, and was trans- figured before them." Next came the prayer, which com- A WEEK IN LONDON. 49 nienced with thanksgiving to G-od for his " sovereign elect- ing love before the foundation of the world/' and closed with an earnest petition for " the day when free grace shall set its foot upon the neck of free will." In rising to begin his discourse, the speaker said he had experienced a week of great personal anxiety, and since the morning service had been quite unwell; and though he had done his best by way of preparation, he felt that it would be impossible for him to preach with his usual freedom and force. His text was chosen from the account of the Transfiguration : "And they feared as they entered into the cloud;" on which basis he reared a highly artistic and somewhat fanciful superstructure of three stories — " Clouds, Fears, and Communion." There were passages in the sermon of uncommon beauty and power, though I was afterward told that it fell far short of his ordi- nary energy and eloquence. One who was present remarked that the preacher himself " seemed to be in a cloud ;" and so perhaps he was ; but ever and anon the lightning of his fancy played through its folds, and fringed its skirts with fire; till at last, like the cloud that overhung the camp of Israel, it shot up into a pyramid of flame, and gave out ter- rific thunder. Nothing could exceed the emphasis with which he denounced the lukewarmness of the Church, and the fervor with which he laid siege to the hearts of sinners. The conclusion was exceedingly picturesque and dramatic ; and the cold thrills ran over me, as he drew the procrasti- nator to the verge of life, trembling and clinging to his fail- ing hopes, cried — " Hands off!" then pointed where he fell ! Mr. Spurgeon's style is very unequal, passages, otherwise of exquisite beauty, being often disfigured by expressions common even to coarseness, as if the stained windows of Westminster Abbey had been patched with newspapers, or the gorgeous Victoria Tower finished out with a clumsy superstructure of unhewn stone. His great excellences are 3 50 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Ms simplicity and directness, his fearless and earnest man- ner, fidelity of application and fervor of appeal, an exceed- ingly happy faculty of illustration, with a powerful and well-managed voice, and an action at once easy, natural, and impressive. Into the province of logic, I judge, he seldom, if ever, ventures; and herein he shows his wisdom; for, evidently, whatever he was made for, he was not made for a reasoner. With this exception, if, indeed, it he not deemed a capital defect, he has all the elements of superior oratory ; and with his extraordinary dramatic power, I do not wonder that the common people follow him hy thousands. No pul- pit man, except Whitefield and Irving, ever attracted such crowds in London. His chapel heing found too small for his audience, he has engaged the immense Music Hall at the Surrey Gardens, where he holds forth on Sabbath mornings to eight or ten thousand hearers. They are admitted on tickets, at a shilling apiece ; yet multitudes come who can- not even obtain a standing-place within the walls. The money thus collected, after paying current expenses, is to be applied to the building of a large tabernacle for the congre- gation. A short time before our visit the young man was married, when thousands flocked to witness the ceremony; and it is said there never was so large a concourse on any similar occasion in the metropolis. He is a man of great industry, energy, and zeal ; and his pliysique seems fully equal to the immense demands made upon it by the unrest- ing and impetuous soul. Probably he receives more calls and pays more visits than any other minister in London ; of notes of inquiry, and letters soliciting religious counsel, which he generally contrives to answer, there is no end ; his preaching is incessant, and there is service of some sort every evening in his chapel, and often a prayer-meeting at sunrise. His pulpit indiscretions are those of a frank, sim- ple, warm-hearted boy ; for as yet he can scarcely be called A WEEK IN LONDON. 51 a man ; his eccentricities are the eccentricities of genius ; and his egotism the egotism of zeal. His rough corners will wear off by-and-by ; for he can scarcely float in such a current without striking here and there against the shore, and grinding now and then among the rocks ; and if popu- lar applause does not spoil him, of which I trust there is little danger, he is likely to prove a very useful man. I had a pleasant interview with him in the vestry after service, and was delighted to find in his manner the cordiality of the Christian, blended with the simplicity of the child; and left him with the settled conviction, that the " peremptori- ness," "pertinacity," and "self-conceit/ 7 so often com- plained of in his character, are but the natural expression of a brave, honest, ingenuous, and unsuspecting soul. 52 A YEAR IN EUROPE, CHAPTER IV. BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. DINNER AT DOVER CROSSING THE CHANNEL — CALAIS — COLOGNE : — THE CATHEDRAL SHRINE OF THE THREE KINGS CHURCH OF SAINT URSULA DOM GLOCKE OTHER CHURCHES HISTORICAL RAILWAY CASUALTY SERIOUS MISTAKE DRESDEN ROMANISM AND ROYALTY — FRAUENKIRCHE — ENGLISH WORSHIP. The River Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash the city of Cologne ; But tell me, nymphs, what power divine Shall henceforth wash the River Rhine f Coleridge. At one o'clock P. M., on Monday, the twenty-ninth, we took leave of the metropolis, and three hours of pleasant railway travel brought us to Dover. Here we waited four hours for a steamer not worth two hours of any man's time ; and sat down to a very tolerable dinner, for which we paid a most intolerable price. It was amusing to see with what amazement a tall Frenchman, a real Ajax in boots, regarded his bill. "Monsieur," said he, "vat you pay for your deenare ?" Upon receiving my answer he exclaimed : " Be gare, monsieur, dis is de dearest place in de world ! I pay eight sheeling ! Monsieur, you ever hear such ting ? I ,have leetle soup, von leetle fish, von leetle piece chicken. BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 53 two cup coffee, no more, and I pay eight sheeling ! Eight sheeling for von such deenare ! Be gare, I nevare see such place — nevare — nevare !" At eight in the evening we took leave of "dear old Eng- land." Within half an hour two of the triad were in a most pitiable condition. Such rolling and plunging, in such a cramped -up little cabin, after having come so recently from the spacious saloons and ample state-rooms of the Persia, was surely enough to make any one sea-sick who is at all addicted to that vice. To the scribe, suffering only from sympathy, and not much from that, the passage was rather pleasant. True, the weather was cold and cloudy, with an occasional sprinkling of snow during the first part of the voyage ; but Monsieur of the " deenare" said it was "von very fine night," and most of the passengers seemed to concur in the opinion. The distance from Dover to Calais is only twenty-one miles, and the lights seen at once on both sides, with here and there a lamp at the mast of a vessel, and the stars that now and then peered through the rifted clouds, made the darkness beautiful, and gave enchantment to the waters. I sat alone upon the deck, wrapped in my shawl, surveying the scene, communing with my own soul, and lulled by the music of wind and wave, till lost in a delicious reveryj when a form stalked by me through the gloom, indistinct as the ghost of Eliphaz the Temanite, and full twice as tall, and I heard a voice saying, "Eight sheeling! eight sheel- ing for such leetle deenare ! Be gare, I nevare see such hotel before !" Two hours landed us at Calais. Judging from the Custom-house and the railway-station — for the night permit- ted us to see nothing more of the city — this must be one of the most miserable places in Christendom. The arrange- ments — say rather the disarrangements — for examining pass- 54 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ports and baggage are unworthy a civilized people — a mere form, void of all utility, necessary only for the sake of the revenue, but often infinitely troublesome to the traveller. If the manner in which these officers dealt with us is a specimen, they must very seldom detect a smuggler, assassin, or rogue of any other sort. All they did was to open a lady's satchel, unroll her night-gown, scrutinize its border, and put a few unintelligible scratches upon our passports, for which we waited two hours, and had five different fees to pay. After this we were detained two hours more — too short a time to sleep, but too long to keep awake. Here we parted with our friend Ajax, who took the chemin de fer for Paris ; and as the train started slowly from the station, the words once more fell upon my ear : " Eight sheeling ! eight sheeling for von such leetle deenare I" Soon after two we were rushing through the night to meet the morning. We had to rush a long time, however; for at this season of the year it is not daylight here until about seven o'clock. The dawn revealed a rich level country, culti- vated everywhere like a garden, intersected by canals and hedges, with fine macadamized roads, and long avenues of elms and poplars, ornamented with church-towers and wind- mills, elegant chateaux and rural cottages-: — the land of our dreams for years, rising out of darkness around us, as Para- dise rises to the pilgrim emerging from " the valley of the shadow of death/' Of the towns we passed during the day, the railway car- riage afforded us but meagre and momentary glimpses. Late in the afternoon we passed through an arched gateway in the wall of the ancient city of Cologne, and found plea- sant rooms in the Hotel de Holland, overlooking the far- famed Rhine. After breakfast the next morning, having procured a carriage, and the indispensable commissionaire, we set forth on a tour of exploration. Of course the first BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 55 object of interest was the cathedral. Begun in the thir- teenth century, it is yet unfinished, and likely to he for some time to come. There is a legend which satisfactorily accounts for the tardy progress of the work. The architect was drawing a plan for the building, when a certain gentle- man in black looked over his shoulder, and said : " Here is a much better plan than that, and you shall have it cheap.'" It was a beautiful plan, and to the architect it seemed per- fect. " What is your price ?" said he. " Your own soul when the cathedral is finished/' was the reply. Of course the pious architect inwardly shrunk with horror from such a proposition ; yet was he so well pleased with the plan that he continued looking at it and talking about it, endeavoring to fix its several parts permanently in his mind. Satan, see- ing himself outwitted, seized the paper, and tore it to pieces, exclaiming : " You may build according to my plan, but you shall never finish your cathedral \" Yet, in its imper- fect state — a mere fragment — it is truly a glorious sight to one who has an eye for what is grand or beautiful in archi- tecture. The present King of Prussia has contributed largely to the' work, and there is an association, with branches in all parts of Europe, collecting money for its completion, which will yet require five millions of dollars. It is to have- two towers; five hundred feet bigh, correspond- ing to the length of the edifice. The present altitude of the higher one is only two hundred feet, and nothing has been added, I believe, to its altitude for more than two hun- dred years. The double range of stupendous flying but- tresses, and the intervening piers, bristling with a forest of pinnacles, strike the beholder with amazement and awe; while within the building the massive columns, lofty arches, elaborate carvings, and magnificent parti-colored windows, constitute, if possible, a still more impressive spectacle. A guide, for a few groschen, conducted us through the 5G A YEAR IN EUROPE. chapels, filled with shrines, statues, paintings, relics of saints, and many other curious things. One of the most remarkable is the shrine of " The Three Kings" — that is, the three sages who came to Bethlehem to see the infant Saviour. Their bones are said to have been brought hither from Milan by the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, in the twelfth century, when he stormed and sacked that city; and to have been given by him to the Archbishop of Cologne, who had accompanied him in his warlike expedition, and who took good care that the precious treasure should be properly preserved and honored. And here are now the three skulls, crowned with jewelled diadems, doubtless quite as genuine as the bone of St. Matthew shown us in the sacristy ; ' and here are the names of the royal saints to whom they seve- rally belonged — G-aspar, Melchior, and Balthazar — written in rubies, all contained in a case of curious woidnnanship, bedight with gems, cameos, and costly enamels, and orna- mented with statuettes of the prophets and apostles. At the time of the French Revolution, the shrine, with its pre- cious contents, was transferred, for safe keeping, to Arns- berg, in Westphalia, and many of its jewels were sold to support those who accompanied it; yet many beautiful stones remain, and its value is still estimated at something more than a million sterling. Albert Smith, of London, tells a fine story of a Yankee who tried to buy it ; and when the custode told him it was not for sale, threatened to make a " shrine of the three kings" for himself, and show it for sixpence a head, and blow their "old consarn sky high." Between the shrine and the altar lies buried the heart of Marie di Medicis ; and I was afterward shown, in another part of the city, the room in which it throbbed its last, close by that in which Rubeus's began to beat. After visiting several other churches — for Cologne is a city of churches — of curious antique architecture, and full BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 57 of holy relics, we were conducted to that of Saint Ursula, begun in the twelfth century, and finished in the fifteenth. The legend of this saint is very interesting. She was the daughter of a king of Brittany. With eleven thousand vir- gins, she made a pilgrimage to Rome. On their return through Grermany, they were all murdered here by the Huns, who were then invading Cologne. In honor of these virgin martyrs the church was erected; and here are their bones, dug up from the earth after they had slept a century or two, and built into the walls, sixteen feet thick, so that the solid masonry is actually a mass of human skeletons; and who will be wicked enough to doubt their identity? The saint herself is said to repose in a sarcophagus behind the altar, on which is her reclining effigy, in beautiful white marble. We saw also her left arm, her right hand, and one of her forefingers ; not less genuine, I suppose, than " one of the waterpots of stone in which our Lord turned the water into wine," which was exhibited along with them. The skulls of some hundreds of her companions, if not the whole of them, a ghastly array, enclosed in silver cases with crystal covers, decorate the walls of the choir. . Our commis- sionaire said to me, on leaving the church, "Vat you tink of so much relic V " Very little," I answered. " I tink more little as you do," he added. "Leven tousan virgin ! You tink I believe dat ? It is too much I" " But the priests believe it," said I ; "do they not ?" " De priest !" exclaimed he ; " 0, no, not von priest believe it." " Why then," I inquired, " do they show these things to the peo- ple, and tell us such fine stories about them ?" " It is von big lie," he answered, with energy; " von big lie to get de money!" "You seem to have very little respect," said I, " either for the priests or for the relics ; but do you not worship the Blessed Virgin?" "No," he answered, still more emphatically than before ; " I worship only God ! I 3* bb A YEAR IN EUROPE. worship no saint but Christ !" Yet I observed afterward, in other churches, that he crossed himself occasionally, bowed reverently at the elevation of the host, and sprinkled himself with holy water as he entered arid retired. As it was the day of a solemn festival, the " Dom Glocke," or great bell of the cathedral, was to ring in the evening ; so I called our commissionaire, and leaving the ladies behind, went out to hear it. This hollow mass of metal is twelve feet in diameter, and requires twenty men to swing it; yet its tone, powerful beyond conception, is perfectly melo- dious. The voice of " Big Ben" was but the tinkling of a sheep-bell in the comparison. The majestic sound seemed to fill the universal atmosphere, and I thought the music worth coming over the Atlantic to hear. I have read of an English traveller who heard the bells of his native village in- the desert of Sahara; and if they were all like this, the be- lief of the statement requires no great credulity. From the Cathedral we went to nine other churches in succession, most of which were brilliantly illuminated, and many of them thronged with worshippers. The Church of the Jesuits, in which we heard some extremely fine music, is profusely decorated with sculpture and paintings; con- tains the crozier of Francis Xavier, and the rosary of Igna- tius Loyola; and its bells, a very fine set, presented by Tilly, were cast from the cannon which he captured at Magdeburg. In the Church of the Apostles a priest was preaching to an immense audience — not less, I think, than three or four thousand, some of whom stood listening with profound attention, while others were kneeling in prayer be- fore the different shrines and images, and others wandering about, and talking aloud, while no one attempted to still them. We tried very hard to enter the Protestant church, but the throng about the door was so dense that we found it quite impossible, and were obliged to content ourselves with BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 59 standing outside, and listening to the service, which seemed very simple, and much after the manner of our German brethren in Charleston. Cologne is a free city, the largest and wealthiest on the Rhine. With its two suburbs across the river, it has a popu- lation of a hundred thousand, ten thousand of whom are Protestants, and sis thousand and five hundred soldiers. It originated in a Roman camp, pitched here by Marcus Agrippa. In this camp was born Agrippina, the mother of Nero. She afterward sent to the place of her birth a Roman colony; which was called, after her, Colonia Agrippina ; the former part of which suggests the derivation of the present name of the city. The inhabitants are said to be still very proud of their Roman origin; and till within the last hundred years they kept up many of the ancient Roman customs. For more than three centuries, including the thirteenth and fourteenth, Cologne was the most flourishing city of Northern Europe, and was frequently called " the Northern Rome." It then had two hundred magnificent churches, and was able to send forth thirty thousand men to battle. Its sub- sequent decay is attributed to many agencies, the chief of which was the unlimited sway of ignorant and bigoted eccle- siastics. They expelled and persecuted its most industrious and useful citizens ; first the Jews, then the weavers, after- ward the Protestants ; and by these, and kindred measures, reduced a rich and thriving city to comparative poverty and desolation. Since the French Revolution, a great change has taken place : the people have thrown off their lethargy, trade has revived, population has increased, dilapidated buildings have been repaired, valuable works of art have been sought out and restored, the long-suspended work of the magnificent cathedral has been commenced anew, and all things seem to be in an improving condition. The streets are very narrow, and without sidewalks, and Cologne has GO AYEARINEUHOPE. long been famous as a filthy city. There is no bridge across the Rhine, bnt a bridge of boats ; which, however, is soon to be superseded by a solid stone structure already begun. The renowned Eau de Cologne — originally manufactured by Jean Marie Farina, now by some twenty-four others, most of whom claim the name of the patentee and the right of the patent — perfumes the whole civilized world. The ladies bought a box of six bottles, and when our sweet sojourn here was ended, we resumed our journey toward the Eternal City, all redolent of " the Northern Rome." It was not yet daylight on New Year's morning, when we crossed the Rhine, and took the train for Dresden. Railway accidents are said to be infrequent in Europe ; but was ■ not our progress arrested that day by a capsized locomotive, and a superincumbent pile of shattered cars ? Of course, nobody was to blame, and I heard it suggested that the engine was probably on a New Year's frolic, and the train, like " poor Tray," was involved in the consequences, "for no other rea- son than having been found in bad company." "Kommen sic hieraus !" shouted the conductor, as he threw open the door of our vehicle ; and we, promptly obeying the order, and following through mud and snow, walked past the hideous ruin and took another train. Stout peasants, in short blue frocks and huge wooden shoes, bore our baggage after us upon their shoulders, and we were soon pursuing our journey. The detention, how- ever, made us too late for the connection at Leipsic, and we were obliged to remain there all night. There stopped with us at the same hotel an agreeable Polish gentleman, whose acquaintance we had made in the car. The next morning, when we renewed our journey, one of the waiters, by mis- take, put into our carriage a valuable fur overcoat, which I supposed to be the property of the Polander, and he thought to be mine. After we had been travelling an hour or two, he asked me, as I thought, what such an article would be BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 61 worth, in America; and I answered, "JPetct-etre cent Uvrcs." I had mistaken his question, however, as it afterward appeared; for instead of inquiring what it would briDg, he had inquired what I had paid for it. When we drew near Dresden, the conductor came into our coupe, and began talking very seriously with our friend, evidently about the coat. The colloquy was carried on partly in French and partly in German, both of which the Polander appeared to speak but indifferently. Soon there was a transition from the coat to me, and I heard our new acquaintance say : u Er ist Pastor, er ist Doctor." Now the conductor turned to me, and asked for my passport, and handed me a bit of paper, on which he desired me to write my name, residence, and profession. He scrutinized the passport, then my form and features, and next what I had written at his request, in a most mysterious manner ; and I never suspected the cause, till the Polander turned to me and asked : "Ist das Ihr Roch f To which I replied : "JVein, ist es nicht der llirige T' and in a moment the mystery was explained. The owner of the article at Leipsic had missed his coat; and upon inquiry, learned that it had gone with our party ; and innocently sus- pecting that it was stolen, telegraphed the conductor to that effect, who, as a faithful officer, was now making inquisition for the thief. A little explanation satisfied him, and we laughed heartily over the error, and quoted, as apropos to the occasion, a couplet from the old song: "Never go to France, unless you know the lingo; For if you do, like me, you'll repent of it, by jingo !" And our Polish neighbor, who for a while took it very seriously to heart that he should have been suspected of lar- ceny, at length began to see the ludicrous character of the affair, and joined in our mirth right merrily. Entering Dresden, we crossed the Elbe on a magnificent 62 A YEAR IN EUROPE. stone bridge of twelve arches ; and in passing from the rail- way station to the Victoria Hotel, recrossed it upon another, connecting the old town and the new, and commanding a fine view of a large portion of the city and its environs. The latter is called the Old Bridge, and is said to have been built with money raised by the sale of indulgences for eating but- ter and eggs during Lent. The Elbe here is about as broad as the Savannah at Augusta, or the Cumberland at Nash- ville. The situation of Dresden, in a wide valley, with gen- tly sloping hills on both sides, and the river winding through it like a thread of silver, is very beautiful. It has a popu- lation of ninety thousand, only five thousand of whom are Papists. For its works of art, it has been called "the Ger- man Florence;" as, for its Roman antiquities and customs, Cologne has been called " the Northern Rome." Being a cheap place to live, and affording excellent facilities for edu- cation, especially in music, it has been much frequented for this purpose, within the last twenty or thirty years, by English and American families. Spending a Sabbath here, we repaired in the morning to the Roman Catholic church, where the king worships, and all the royal family. The King of Saxony, at the time of the Reformation, was the special friend of Luther, and his most powerful supporter; but Augustus the Second after- ward bartered his religion for the crown of Poland, and his successors still follow the Italian apostasy. We saw royalty and its train, sitting in boxes, like those of a theatre, just over the altar — about a dozen persons in all; and but for their situation, some forty or fifty feet above us, they looked very much like other people, and neither of the most beau- tiful class, nor of the most intellectual. The king himself seemed sleepy and indifferent ; while the- queen, and one or two others of the ladies, appeared to be very devout. They enter the church and retire by a covered bridge thrown over BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 63 the street, connecting the church and the palace, without descending from their lofty opera-boxes to mingle with the throng, or pollute their royal sole-leather. The music here excelled every thing of the kind I had ever heard, and is said to be the finest in Europe. It is under the superintend- ence of the director of the opera, who on Sunday morning transfers his band from the orchestra to the organ-loft, and back again on Sunday evening ; so that you may hear the same musicians, and, for aught I know, the same pieces, on the same day, both in the church and in the play-house — a very advantageous arrangement, certainly, for those who wish to compare the two institutions ! As an artistic per- formance, at another time, I could have enjoyed this music highly; but as a part of Divine worship on the Lord's day, it was far from being satisfactory to my feelings. Yet it was the best part of the service ; and quite as acceptable to Grod, I have no doubt, as any thing done at the altar. The edifice is very large, built in the Italian style, and rather elaborately decorated. The pulpit is appropriately built upon a pyramid of saints and angels, a true representation of the basis of the Papal Church. A man was preaching in it when we entered, but the sermon was not very edifying to one who knew so little G-erman. Eeturning to our hotel, we stopped a few moments at the Frauenkircke, where a man was preaching to about fifty per- sons, though the church would contain several thousand. The singing after the sermon was done by a choir of boys, accompanied by the organ, in a gallery not less than sixty feet high. Their voices were very sweet, and the music was simple and delightful. The church is circular in form, built entirely of stone, and surmounted by a majestic dome, of such solid construction, that the balls and shells hurled against it by Frederick the Great rebounded without making any impression. Within, it is arranged exactly like a thea- 64 A YEAR IN UUEOPE; tre ; with, parquette, boxes, and galleries, of which. I counted seven tiers, rising one above another to the very cupola. At three in the afternoon we went to the English Church — a small, plain, antique-looking structure — where we had the "Evening Service" in our own tongue, without either singing or sermon. In regard to the latter, I dare say, we did not lose much, for the Church-of-England preaching which we heard on the Continent was generally of a very indifferent character; and here, judging from the personal appearance of the minister, and the soulless manner in which, he read the prayers, to say nothing of what others told us of his dulness in the pulpit, it could not have been much better. EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. 65 CHAPTEE V. EN ROUTE EOR VENICE. 6AX0N SWITZERLAND — SPEAKING GERMAN — SMOKING AND SMOKERS — ■ VIENNA BADEN THE SEMMERING VALLEY OF THE HUE GRATZ — ■ CAVE OF ADELSBERG THE DREARY KARST TRIESTE ACROSS THE ADB.IATIC VENETIAN FOG. The hills — the everlasting hills — How peerlessly they rise, Like earth's gigantic sentinels Discoursing through the skies! Bryant. On Monday, the fifth of January, leaving Sallie in Dres- den, we resumed our journey. The railway for some dis- tance runs along a delightful valley on the south bank of the Elbe; on the opposite side of which, the hills, rising in terraced slopes, covered with vineyards, and ornamented with villas, present an attractive view, even in the depth of win- ter. We passed the ancient castle of Sclwnnenstien, now a lunatic asylum, standing on an elevated rock at our right; and a little farther on, the not very imposing summer residence of the Court of Saxony. We now entered the romantic region called the Saxon Switzerland. It consists chiefly of huge columnar hills, with level tops, separated from one another in some places by dark and frightful chasms, and in others by broad and pleasant valleys. Here 66 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and there slender shafts, like obelisks, shoot up to a giddy height among the clouds. One of these is crowned with the remains of a castle, formerly the abode of robber knights, and reached by ladders and drawbridges, which were easily removed in time of danger, rendering their lofty eyrie quite inaccessible to their pursuers. The intervening valleys and gorges appear to have been formed by the action of water, wearing away the softer portions of the rock, and leaving the more solid masses standing in peerless majesty. We frequently saw large trees gi'owing out of the crags and crevices half-way up the precipice, where there seemed not ' a handful of earth to nourish thenf. The highest of these mountains — the Lilianstien and the Konigstein — stand frowning at each other across the Elbe, which flows a thou- sand feet beneath. The latter is crowned with a fortress, which has never yet been taken, which even Napoleon assailed in vain, and which, from its isolated position, is justly deemed impregnable. Here the Saxon sovereigns have again and again taken refuge from their stronger foes, and hither the royal treasures are always conveyed in time of war. At the Bohemian frontier we experienced some detention, and had no little annoyance from government officers in the vise of passports and examination of baggage. In the midst of our tribulation, a young soldier, to whom I thought I was talking intelligible German, turned away exclaiming, "IcJi can niclit Fransosich sprechen" — I cannot speak French. What a paradise is this for smokers ! The Germans actu- ally smoke at the dinner-table, not even waiting till the ladies have retired. In Dresden I saw lamps burning all day in little niches along the streets, for the convenience of pedes- trians in lighting their cigars. Each apartment in the rail- way cars is provided with a match-box fastened up at one side for the same purpose. In our country there is generally EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. 67 a "smoking-car/' to which gentlemen may retire for that luxurious indulgence : in Germany it is a rare case that a passenger can find a car in which it is prohibited ; and when he is so fortunate, it is commonly a car of second-rate accom- modations. We aimed, whenever practicable, to secure to ourselves the sole occupancy of a coupe", in order to avoid this intolerable annoyance; but when the passengers were numerous, this was not always to be done, and we must learn to endure. Now it was, however, that endurance proved impossible — seats all full, doors and windows closed, and every one except ourselves smoking like Vesuvius ! Very mildly and respectfully we began to remonstrate, and this was the prompt reply : "Gehen sie in ein altere coupe l" — GrO you to another apartment. Passing through Prague and Briin in the night, with a pause of only thirty minutes at each, we crossed the Danube at eight the next morning, and breakfasted at the hotel Erzerzog Karl in Vienna. The Capital of Austria is truly a magnificent place, and well deserves its soubriquet — " City of Palaces j" though it is said to be, Paris itself not excepted, " the most dissolute capital in Europe." The city proper is small and compact, but its architecture is stately and beautiful. It is sur- rounded by a thick wall and a deep fosse, outside of which is a broad esplanade called the Glacis, full of trees and shrubbery, and traversed in every direction by fine foot- paths and carriage-roads ; and beyond this open space are the suburbs, occupying five times the area of the city, with ele- gant mansions facing the glacis, and wide streets converg- ing toward the centre, entering the walls through dark and heavy archways, and meeting at the Cathedral of St. Stephen in the very heart of the metropolis. Vienna, therefore, is a city within a city; and it is difficult to conceive of any thing more beautiful than this arrangement. The panorama 68 A YEAR IN EUROPE. from the tower of St. Stephen's resembles a wheel, the city being the hub, the suburbs the rim, the glacis the space between,' and the great streets passing through it answering very well to the spokes. Indeed, it looks as if it needed but an axle on which to revolve, and some Archimedes to put it in motion, and it would go for ever ; and I believe, if some Samson should come along, and carry it to the top of the Alps, and set it " right side up with care," it might roll down into Italy ! "We rode out to Sclwiibrun, the summer residence of the Emperor, a perfect paradise in the season of sunshine and flowers; and walked through its spacious halls, and saw some very interesting works of art; with the character' of which, aesthetic reader, the scribe's " better half," in this special department, shall in due time acquaint thee. On our return, we visited several churches, and heard delightful music, and gazed upon fine painting and statuary. Canova's funeral group, in the Church of the Augustines — the white marble forms against the dark opening of the tomb which they are entering, every line so sad and drooping, and the en- semble so modest and so holy — the bowed matron with the urn, the tottering old man, the sorrowful maiden, the bitterly weeping child, and the lion crouching at the portal — pro- duced upon the writer a very profound impression; while his other half gazed, and glowed, and rhapsodized, and rubbed her little hands, in a manner quite worthy of the occasion, and somewhat edifying to behold ; but when, upon turning to Murray, we learned that it was only a marble alle- gory, we both felt something as feels a sentimental young lady when, amidst her tears over some love-sick novel, she suddenly recollects that the story is a fiction, and the reader a fool. The Cathedral, though unfinished, is a glorious structure, combining all that is grand and beautiful in Gothic architec- EN ROUTE FOB, VENICE. 69 ture. Its carved stone pulpit is a wonderful piece of work- manship. Only one of its two towers is completed, and that is the most marvellously symmetrical my eyes ever beheld. Rising to the height of four hundred feet, it commands a fine view of the city and circumjacent country. To the south is seen a broad range of lofty hills, a spur of the Alps, stretching away to the southeast, and terminating in the Schneeberg, which lifts its shining crest above the clouds. This region is called the Weinerwald, or Forest of Vienna ; being covered with trees, among which the black fir — a noble species — towers in princely majesty over all its fellows. These hills are intersected by numerous fertile valleys, beau- tified with winding streams, and here and there overhung by frowning precipices, blending in the same view every variety of the picturesque and the sublime. Beyond them lies a vast wall of lapis-lazuli and amethyst, with towers of pearl and pinnacles of crystal — the Styrian Alps — toward which we now proceed on our pleasant pilgrimage. Our first point is Baden — an hour's railway-travel from Vienna. It is a small town, surrounded by vineyards, and dependent almost entirely upon the fame of its mineral waters for a subsistence. These waters are deemed very efficacious in cases of gout, rheumatism, and various cutane- ous diseases.- On this account, the place was formerly a very popular resort ; but of late years it has been comparatively but little frequented, partly because of the superior quality of several other spas, and partly because of a dislike which royalty has taken to the town, in consequence of a madman's attempt to assassinate the late emperor there. Forty-seven miles from Vienna we reach Grloggnitz, at the foot of the Semmering. Here the railway is carried over a mountain three thousand three hundred feet high. It is esteemed — I should think justly — the most wonderful work of the kind in the world. The distance, from the com- 70 A YEAR IN EUROPE. rnencenicnt of the ascent to the level beyond the mountain, is about twenty-five miles; and in that distance there are twelve tunnels, and eleven vaulted cuttings, with a great number of bridges and viaducts. The great tunnel, at the summit, is one thousand five hundred and sixty-one yards long; and the whole amount of tunnelling exceeds four thousand yards. It was interesting, and not a little exciting, to see a long train of cars winding, like a great serpent, along the dizzy precipice, toward every point of the com- pass ; and ever and anon to behold below us, on the other side of a chasm a thousand feet deep, yet so near that one might almost throw a stone across, the path by which we had ascended. Beyond the Semmering, the railroad descends a narrow valley, traversed by the torrent of the Mur, and shut in by lofty and precipitous mountains. Some of the cliffs, which overhung our path at the height of a thousand or fifteen hundred feet, were terrible to behold; and here and there where the valley opened to a wider prospect, peak upon peak, and range upon range, towering away into the regions of eternal winter, were glorious beyond description. We saw many ruined castles — the relics of feudal days — in situations which seemed inaccessible to any but the eagle ; yet these, all were once the homes of heroic men and gentle women. As we passed the gates of G-ratz — the capital of Styria — we met a procession of priests, carrying crosses ; led by a bishop, bearing an immense lighted candle in tbe open day. Gratz is about as large as Charleston, beautifully situated on the Mur, where the valley spreads out to a width of ten or fifteen miles. It is the seat of a university of some cele- brity. A little beyond this, we were shown the ruined castle of Obcr-Wildon, immortalized by the residence and astro- nomical observations of Tycho Brahe. Then we rushed again into a narrow passage between the mountains; and EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. 71 when we emerged on the other side, beheld the Oistrize Spitze, about eight thousand feet Jtrigh, crowned with per- petual snow. Not far from Laibach, where the railroad terminates, is the celebrated cave of Adelsberg, said to be the most magni- ficent in Europe, and supposed to be the most extensive. It has already been explored four or five miles ; but this is probably not the end, and new avenues are constantly being- discovered. We were earnestly .advised to visit it; but we had not time to spare; and after having been in the Mam- moth Cave of Kentucky, what is there under ground worth seeing ? So we took a diligeace, and continued our jour- ney. For a few hours the travelling was not unpleasant ; but after that we entered upon the most desolate and dreary region I ever saw. This is called the Carst or Carso — an elevated table-land, extending from the Carniolian moun- tains to the head of the Adriatic, and far down its eastern coast. It is one vast area of naked rock, rent into chasms and fragments apparently by subterranean forces, without pool or stream, or scarcely any appearance of verdure. To render it the more dreary, it was swept by a bitter wind, which howled through every crack and aperture of the coach, and occasionally came in such gusts as threatened us with destruction. We were fortunate indeed in not being- six hours later on the road ; for this was the commencement .of the terrible Bora, which for three days afterward raged furiously over that frightful waste; and a traveller who overtook us the next day in Trieste, informed us that he saw several wagons overturned, and blown quite off the road. This is no uncommon thing. Such is the violence of that wind, that no teamster will venture out while it lasts, and even the diligence waits till it is over. It has blown away every particle of soil from the rock, and seems sometimes as if it would blow away the rock itself. 72 A YEAR IN EUROPE. We had travelled thus some hours, as uncomfortable as travellers well could be, when we suddenly found ourselves on the brow of a hill, overlooking toward the south and west a vast expanse of water ; and at our feet, between us and the sea, apparently so near that one might cast a stone into it, a snug little village, with a vast number of small sail- boats moored at its margin. That was the Adriatic; and this was the city of Trieste, the most important seaport of the Austrian Empire, numbering perhaps seventy or eighty thousand inhabitants; and these were the merchant-ships of every nation under Leaven, and the great steam-shuttles which weave remote kingdoms and continents together ! By a beautiful winding road between vineyards and olive orchards, we rushed down the terraced hill with great rapid- ity; and yet it was three-quarters of an hour before we reached the city ; for when we saw it from the top, it was more' than five miles distant. Nothing could be more pic- turesque than the side of the mountain, and the winding way by which we descended ; and in the season of verdure and bloom, the view must be truly enchanting. The streets of the city are paved with broad flat stones, like the side- walks of our best American cities ; and a cleaner city I have never seen, not because the people are habitually so cleanly, but simply because the streets are too steep for the accumu- lation of any particle of filth. The Hotel de la Ville, at which we lodged four days, is exceedingly well managed; but the charges are enormous. We were obliged to remain, for the Bora raged fearfully; and recollecting how Saint Paul was " driven up and down in Adria" by just such a wind, our dread of it was unconquerable even by the desire of seeing Venice. Those days embraced a Sabbath; on which we sought " the British Chapel," the only Protestant place of worship in the town ; read prayers with them, after the manner of the Church of England ; and heard a plain, EN ROUTE POR VENICE. 73 earuest ; faithful, pungent sernion, delivered without notes, and for its spirit and manner worthy of any Methodist preacher in Europe or America. In the afternoon, weary of reading, and wanting exercise, I wandered to the top of the hill, whereon the castle stands, where I accidentally stumbled upon the old Cathedral, founded in the fifth cen- tury, and built with the fragments of earlier structures. The tower, it is said, stands on the foundation of a temple of Jupiter ; and it is curious to see fine blocks of carved and polished marble interspersed among rough stones and bricks in the walls. In the evening I entered a Greek church; and of all the religious services I ever witnessed, I think that which I saw performed there was the most soulless. The Greeks have two churches, both of which are very richly decorated, and one of which is the largest and finest religious edifice in the city. The population of Trieste represents " all the nations of the babbling earth" — Greeks and Orientals, Jews and Armenians, British and Americans, French, Spanish, and Italians ; and all languages are to be heard, and all costumes are to be seen, continually in the streets. After three days the violence of the wind somewhat abated, though still it roared fearfully ever and anon in the lofty dome of the hotel, and through the forest of masts in the harbor. Our valet de clianibre, however, said : " It is not now Bora : Bora is finish : it is now for Venezia good wind." The next morning, "The winds were all hushed, and the waters at rest;" and we embarked upon the calm blue Adriatic for "the City of the Sea." As the morning advanced, the dark wall of the Rhctian and Friulian Alps, which filled one-third of the horizon, changed into amethyst; and when the sun 4 74 A YEAR IN EUROPE. broke through the clouds, the amethyst glowed into jasper, aud the jasper kindled into chrysolite. The towns along the coast, with their white light-houses and lofty campaniles, showed beautifully against the jewelled background. We went gayly on, over the laughing waters, with as bright a sunshine as could be desired, for about seven hours ; and were looking forward anxiously to catch the first view of Yenice; when, suddenly, the western horizon darkened; and, almost without a moment's warning, we were enveloped in a fog so dense that we could scarcely see the length of the steamer ; and this was accompanied with a cold, search- ing wind, which seemed to pierce the very bone. We slackened speed, and felt our way very cautiously, and the steam-whistle was kept going almost continually. The entrance to the harbor is very intricate, and we were some • three hours making the distance, which should have required but thirty or forty minutes; and when we cast anchor amid stately palaces and churches at the mouth of the Grand Canal, it was impossible for the eye to penetrate the misty veil with which their magnificence was shrouded. One of the many gondolas which glide over these strange thoroughfares conveyed us rapidly to the Hotel de la Ville, where we soon found ourselves more comfortably and plea- santly situated than in any similar establishment since we left the Astor House; the master obliging, the servants attentive, rooms neat, table good, and charges moderate. It was stranger than romance, to find ourselves in the palace of the Glrassi, in a city whose streets are canals, and whose only carriages are boats; and I look back upon the forty hours we spent there as a pleasant dream. THE QUEEN OP THE ADKIATIC. 75 CHAPTER VI. THE QUEEN OP THE ADRIATIC. ORIGIN OP THE CITY — THE DUOMO — THE CAMPANILE — FINE PROSPECT — ' PIAZZA AND PIAZZETTA THE DUCAL PALACE THE LIBRARY THE DUNGEONS CHURCHES THE RIALTO ARTESIAN WELLS ADIEU. There is a glorious city in the sea: The sea is in the broad, the narrow streets, Ebbing and flowing ; and the salt sea-weed Clings to the marble of the palaces. ****** With many a pile in more than eastern pride, Of old the residence of merchant kings ; The walls of some, though time has shattered them, Still glowing with the richest hues of art, As though the wealth within them had run o'er. Rogers. As soon as possible, we procured a gondolier and a guide, and Went forth in quest of wonders; arid surely there are not many cities in which so many and such a variety are to be found. The history of the city itself is one of the greatest wonders which time has hitherto recorded. About the middle of the fifth Christian century, a few Italian fugitives sought refuge here from the sword of Attila and the Huns, and supported themselves chiefly by fishing and the manu- facture of salt. Their commerce flourished, and their population increased, and the seventy-two islands grew into 76 A YEAR IN EUROPE. groups of palaces and temples, to which there is not a parallel in the world. In the magnificent Basilica of St. Mark we spent some pleasant hours, wandering over floors of rich mosaic, beneath arches that glitter with gems and gold, among columns, and statues, and bas-reliefs, and monumental inscriptions, and relics of departed sanctity. Within and without are more than five hundred pillars, of verd - antique, serpentine, porphyry, and other precious marbles ; but they are arranged without much regard to either taste or utility, and many of them seem entirely out of place, having actually nothing to do but to encumber the building, and aid in concealing or obscuring some of its other beauties. Two very fine ones in the vestibule are said to have adorned the Temple of Solomon at Jerusalem, and two others near them were brought from the Temple of Minerva at Athens; with which I held the following colloquy, in the language of Bonomi : "Care colonne, che fatti qua? Non sapiamo, in verita, !'" which is, being interpreted : "Dear little columns, all in a r«w, What do you there ? Indeed, we don't know!" It is said that while the building of this fine church was going on, every vessel that went from Venice to the East was required to bring back a column, statue, or something of the sort, for the work, which accounts in part for this princely profusion of precious marbles. The walls and floors are all of the same costly material, while the vaulted ceiling is covered everywhere with mosaics of colored glass upon a ground of gold. The statues and bas-reliefs, which are very numerous, arc all by the first masters. The trca- THE QUEEN OP THE ADRIATIC. 77 sury contains the richest collection of ancient Byzantine jewelry in existence, besides some very precious relics. Among the latter are these : a piece of our Saviour's robe, a fragment of the pillar to which he was bound, one of the thorns with which he was crowned, one of the nails with which he was crucified, and a handful or two of earth saturated with his blood. And who knows not that here repose the remains of St. Mark, to whom the Duomo is dedicated ? The relics, however, are kept under lock and key, and exhibited to strangers only on Fridays, except by special permission ; and the cathedral has one capital defect — the want of light sufficient, especially in gloomy weather, to see its beauties to advantage. Emerging from the glorious twilight, we ascended the lofty Campanile, which stands just opposite the portico, on the Piazza. This is probably the most perfect structure of the kind in Italy. It is forty-five feet in diameter at the base, and three hundred and twenty-three in altitude. The ascent is by an inclined plane within, not near so steep, I think, as some of the streets we had lately climbed in the city of Trieste. Napoleon went up on horseback; and before his day such a ride was no uncommon thing. At the top of the tower, in the large open belfry, whose arches support the pyramid, we found a watchman, whose business it is to strike the hour upon the great bell, and notify the citizens of fires and marine arrivals. I wish I could convey to my readers an adequate idea of the prospect we here enjoyed. Beneath us was the Piazza, with its surrounding colonnades ; the Palazzo Imperiale, with its beautiful garden of evergreens; the roof of the Duomo, with its majestic domes and minarets; the grand old Ducal Palace, with its dark associations of tyranny and murder ; and the Torre del' Orologio, with its vast dial, and its faithful bronze men, standing with lifted hammers 78 A YEAR IN EUROPE. beside tlie bell ; and ever and anon warning the people of the lapse of time ; and all around, with its numerous palaces and churches upon its seventy-two islands, sat the far-spreading city, divided by the broad Canalazzo, running in the form of an S nearly through the centre, spanned by the noble Rialto, and intersected by a hundred and forty- six smaller canals, having more than three hundred bridges ', while the Molos, throwing their mighty arms around the harbor, seemed saying to the sea, "Hitherto shalt thou icome, but no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed ;" and the light-houses, standing like sentinels at the entrance ; and the ships within, sitting calmly upon their inverted shadows; and black gondolas innumerable, gliding to and fro, like fairy vehicles, over the streets of water ; to the west the railroad, like a great cable thrown across the Laguna, mooring the island city to the main-land ; to the east the Liddo, along whose strand poor Byron used to stray, and where he hoped to be buried ; to the south, as far as the eye can reach, long narrow strips of land, forming a great natural breakwater, with here and there a passage into the blue Adriatic beyond ; to the north, walling in the glorious panorama, the Khetian and Tyrolean Alps, which lifted their snowy summits to the sun, all glowing with gold and sapphire. 0, it was a sight worth travelling half the world's circumference to see ! We descended into the Piazza San Marco. I must con- fess, with Grace Greenwood, that this square is, " of all I have ever seen, the one supreme in architectural beauty and magnificence. " The arcades which surround it on three sides, full of gay shops and trattorias, the grand old palaces, the gorgeous cathedral, the campanile, and the clock-tower, form an assemblage of objects to which, within so small a space, I know not the parallel, and think it would be diffi- cult for any one to imagine the superior. The great bell THE QUEEN OF THE ADRIATIC. 79 struck the hour, and " the Pigeons of Saint Mark's" — those beautiful creatures, known wherever Venice is named^- came to their dinner, which they have received daily in this place for several hundred years, some benevolent person having bequeathed a sum sufficient for their perpetual sup- port. We approached the Ducal Palace across the Piazzetta. On our left we passed a column of red porphyry, about five feet in height and three in diameter; from which, as our guide informed us, the laws of the republic were proclaimed. Here, also, delinquent debtors were compelled to stand as a spectacle to the populace, and criminals to receive their sen- tence. The sentence was pronounced by the Doge, from between two red pillars of the balcony before us, and exe- cuted between two granite columns at our right. These latter columns are among the most remarkable things to be seen in Yenice. One of them bears a statue of St. Theodore, the ancient patron of the city, standing upon a crocodile, holding a sword in his left hand and a shield in his right, to signify the disposition of the republic more to defend her- self than to attack others. The other supports a winged lion, with a book in one of his paws, formerly inscribed with the words, " Peace on earth, good-will toward men ;" for which the French substituted their own gospel, " Rights of the man and of the citizen ;" upon which, it is said, a gon- dolier remarked, that St. Mark, as well as the rest of the world, had turned over a new leaf. These columns were brought from Palestine ; but, after their arrival, they lay a long time upon the ground, and no one could tell how they were to be raised. A noted Lombardian gambler, however, accomplished the work, and claimed as his reward from the Doge the privilege of playing games of chance, elsewhere prohibited by law, between the columns. The demand was 80 A YEAR IN EUROPE. granted; but the Council ordered that all public executions should be performed in the same place; and even to this day the Venetians speak of it with horror, and avoid it with superstitious dread. Entering by the Porta della Carta, crossing the Grand Court within the palace, and ascending the magnificent Giant's Staircase, between the two colossal sta,tues of Mars and Neptune, by Sansovino, we soon found ourselves in those gorgeous halls where the Doges of Venice lived, and ruled, and revelled with their nobles. The second room we entered, if I recollect correctly, was the saloon of the Great Council ; and there were still the seats where sat the awful judges. The room is a hundred ' and seventy-five feet in length, eighty-five in width, and fifty-two in height ; and its walls and ceiling are covered with the finest productions of Titian, Bellini, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese. Here is the library of St. Mark, containing a hundred and twenty thousand printed volumes, and ten thousand manuscripts. Among the latter are those of Dante and Petrarch; the works of Quintillian and Cicero, transcribed by the latter; the entire Iliad, and part of the Odyssey, translated by Leontio Pilato, and copied by Boccaccio; with many other fine Greek manuscripts, bequeathed by Cardinal Bessarion, who followed the example of Petrarch, presenting his invaluable collection to St. Mark. Leaving this great saloon, we passed through the hall of the Council of Ten, the hall of the Senate, the hall of the College, the Doge's chapel, and among other apartments, con- taining whole forests of statuary, and acres of canvas, all glowing with genius and power; and descended to those dismal cells, where so many poor wretches dwelt in per- petual night; and crossed that fearful bridge, which so many traversed to return no more. Ah, how many thrilling stories THE QUEEN OP THE ADRIATIC. 81 have germinated here ! but could these walls and arches tell what they have seen and heard, all the gloomy horrors of romance and tragedy would be outdone. Bidding adieu to these dreary solitudes, we visited the Aca- demy of the Fine Arts ; which, however, I shall not attempt to describe, for the very best of reasons ; and then wandered from church to church, which here, you know, are all museums of art, till the eye was actually satisfied with seeing. Of the grandeur and magnificence of some of these sacred edifices, no one who has not beheld them can possibly conceive any adequate idea. Formerly Venice had more churches than any other city in Italy ; but many of them were demolished by the French ; and many more were desecrated, and applied to secular uses. What must have been the wealth of the people who reared these stately structures, and filled them with such costly decorations, and such heaps of treasure ! Among those we visited was the Santa Maria Gloriosa de Frari, which contains the tomb of Titian, and a colossal monument to his memory, recently completed at the expense of the Emperor of Austria — a sitting statue, crowned with laurel, under a rich Corinthian canopy. Here is also the noble mausoleum of the unfortunate Doge Fran- cesco Foscari, immortalized by Lord Byron's tragedy ; and opposite this the sis-storied tomb of "the Doge Nicolo Tron, fifty feet wide and seventy feet high, adorned with nineteen full-length figures, and a profusion of bas-reliefs and other ornaments. But the most beautiful of all — and there are many more, of Doges, and artists, and saints — is the vast pyramid of snowy marble, with its inimitable ti - ain of mourn- ers in honor of Canova — a repetition of the sculptor's own design for the monument of the Archduchess Christina at Vienna. In the old convent buildings attached to this church are kept the ancient Venetian archives, filling ninety- five rooms, nnd consisting of more than fourteen million 4* 82 A YEAR IN EUROPE. documents, which are seldom seen by foreigners. The luxu- rious magnificence of the Church of the Jesuits — the fine altar, with its twisted columns of solid verd-antique — its walls of precious marble, elaborately carved, and inlaid with still more costly material — defies all description. The Church of San Zanipolo, three hundred and thirty feet long, and its width at the transepts a hundred and forty-two, has been called the Westminster Abbey of Venice ; being filled with the tombs and monuments of power, and genius, and canon- ized sanctity. The Church of Santa Maria Formoso was the scene of the well-known affair of the Brides of Venice, carried off by the Istrian pirates. The Church of Santa Maria della Salute was erected as a monument of gratitude to the Virgin after the cessation of the great pestilence, in which sixty thousand people perished. But the most inter- esting of all — not for its magnitude, its altitude, or its ornaments, but for its associations — is that of San Gia- como di Rialto, just at the east end of the bridge ; for here stood the first church of Venice, whose precise form and general appearance are preserved in the present struc- ture. In the Ponte di Rialto 5 was rather disappointed. It is neither imposing in itself, nor highly decorated. With the exceptiou of a few statu"es and bas-reliefs, which I did not think remarkable specimens of art, it looked to me much like any other bridge. But it is not without its interest, and as I walked over it again and again, and paused upon it to meditate, I felt myself " accompanied/'- as Grace Green- wood says, "by viewless beings of the mind, more real than any flesh and blood — Shylock and Antonio, Bassanio, Lorenzo and Jessica, Desdemona and the Moor." Venice in old times depended chiefly upon its cisterns for water • or brought it, at great expense, from the mainland. Bat now there are many artesian wells, which afford an THE QUEEN OF THE ADRIATIC. 83 abundant supply ; and the water is of a very good quality, though slightly chalybeate. It was a cold, clear, beautiful morning when we left " the Sea-born City." The day was just beginning to dawn; and the stars trembled in the waters of the G-rand Canal, as our fleet gondola glided over them ; and the poverty and faded beauty of the once opulent and magnificent "Queen of the Adriatic/' in the dusky twilight, looked more desolate and mournful than ever; and the measured dip of the oar, and the soft music of the ripple along the basement of marble walls, and the warning cry of the gondolier as we shot under a bridge or round a corner, were the only sounds that broke the stillness of the scene. A sigh for poor Byron, and another for the unfortunate Foscari, as we passed, for the last time, the stately mansions which are almost synonymous with their names. Thirty minutes brought us to the railway station ; and in half an hour more, we were rushing over the iron track which connects the city with the mainland. The water is three miles wide, but nowhere more than four feet deep. The Laguna is constantly filling up with the alluvium brought down from the mountains ; and along the whole coast of the upper Adriatic the land is constantly encroaching upon the sea ; and however distant now, the day will come when the Venetian canals will be firm ground; and what remains of the city, as the fate of some of her neighbors forewarns, will be many miles from the shore. The bridge consists of two hundred and twenty-two arches of brick and Istrian marble, resting upon eighty thousand larch piles driven into the mud ; and its construction cost nearly five years' labor of a thousand men, with an outlay of two hundred thousand pounds sterling. At its eastern end stands the fortress of Malghera, the fall of which, eight years ago, induced the surrender of Venice, but which has since been repaired and enlarged by the Austrian government. 84 A YEAR IN EUROPE. The plains of Venetian Lonibardy, upon which we now entered, are much like those of Belgium, though not so highly cultivated ; and the inhabitants, of course, appear to he far less thrifty and comfortable. The land is everywhere cut up by canals and ditches, along whose banks are inter- minable rows of stately poplars. The chief productions seem to be maize, wheat, silk, grapes, and olives. The vines, hanging in festoons from tree to tree, were beautiful even in winter. We were constantly passing towns and vil- lages, and undertook to count their campaniles, but found them too numerous for our arithmetic. Everywhere we heard the sweet music of the Italian tongue, sung rather than spoken, and everywhere saw indications of the Italian love of the beautiful. The pillars at the railroad stations were adorned with rosettes, and the trees and posts along our path were hung with wreaths of evergreens, and the walls and door- ways of the humblest dwellings showed the handiwork of the painter and the sculptor. One of our fellow-passengers wore a pair of pantaloons, decorated with flowers, castles, and animals, in the brightest colors. But with all their taste, the people are poor, idle, vicious, and degraded, beyond all I had ever heard or imagined of Italy, though all this was but "the beginning of what we were destined to see. MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 85 CHAPTER VII. MILAN AND ITS MARVELS, TRIUMPHAL ENTRY THE CATHEDRAL THE ROOF — THE TOWER HISTO- RICAL SKETCH OF THE CITY ST. AMBROSE — SAN CARLO BORROMEO. Italia! Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty, which became A funeral dower of present woes and past, On thy sweet brow is sorrow ploughed by shame, And annals graved in characters of flame! Childe Haeold. At eight in the evening of the same day that we left Venice, we arrived in the goodly city of Milan. It was a grand triumphal entry. The gateway through which we passed was a stupendous arch of flame, every building was ablaze from base to battlement, and the whole population were waiting ^n the streets to receive us. We had not looked for such a welcome, and knew not how to account for our sudden glory. We had sent no courier to proclaim our coming : our secretary had written no letter to the governor : how should the municipal authorities have anticipated our advent ? and what had made us such favorities with the populace ? It was the more puzzling, when we found our- selves detained so long at the Dogana, passports demanded, and nightgowns examined. As soon, however, as this scrutiny had convinced the officers of our proper identity, our trunks 86 A YEAR IN EUROPE. were placed upon a handcart, drawn by a human donkey ; while a herald went before, across the Piazza and along the Corso, shouting stentoriously to clear a passage through the crowd ; and we followed on foot, partly because a carriage was impracticable, but chiefly that the admiring multitude' might have the better opportunity of seeing the illustrious personages whom they delighted to honor. The walk was less than a mile, but occupied more than an hour, anql we must have elbowed our way through at least fifty thousand people. It seemed a little strange, that with such an illumina- tion, and such an ocean of human life, there was no very particular demonstration of popular enthusiasm ; and still stranger, on our arrival at the Hotel cle la Ville, that no special preparation appeared to have been made for our en- tertainment, and we were obliged to accept of such accom- modations as are usually furnished for common forestieri, though the price that we paid for them was suitable to our illustrious rank and triumphal entry. Short-lived, alas, is human glory ! "We soon learned that it was not our worthy selves, but their Imperial Majesties, Joseph and Elizabeth of Austria, whose arrival twenty-four hours before had occa- sioned this splendid illumination and popular concourse. " How is it," I asked a servant, " that there is no shouting in the street V " The people of Milan," she replied, " never shout in these days." " But are you not glflcl to see your emperor and empress?" "No; we do not love our oppress- ors; there is no joy at their coming." "Why then is the city illuminated, and the Corso full of people ?" " We are fond of spectacles, and all this is necessary to save appear- ances." She assured us that these were the popular senti- ments, and that the Milanese only wanted a leader, and they would soon be free. I was astonished to hear a mere chamber- maid discourse of political matters with so much intelligence, and again my heart saug within me, "Hail, Columbia, happy land!" MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 87 The next day we visited the superb Duomo, the largest church in Italy save St. Peter's — four hundred and eighty- six feet long, two hundred and eighty-eight feet wide at the transept, and a hundred and fifty-three feet high from the pavement to the point of the vaulted ceiling. The first stone was laid nearly seven centuries ago, and the building is still unfinished. The material is white marble, from the moun- tains near the Lago Maggiore; the architecture, pointed Gothic, with just enough of the Romanesque to relieve its severity. The niches and pinnacles of the exterior are orna- mented with about four thousand and five hundred statues, many of them in the best style of the art; and the comple- tion of the design will require, it is said, some fifteen hun- dred more. Within, it is not cut up into so many parts as Westminster Abbey and the Cathedral of Cologne, and the choir is not separated from the nave, so that the whole may be seen at a glance. For completeness of detail, and exqui- site perfection of finish, there is scarcely any thing equal to it in all the wonders of Gothic architecture. It looks as if it had been cut out of white paper, and delicately fashioned by fair hands, and fit to be kept in a bandbox ; or as if it had been intended as a toy, or a costly playhouse, for the baby of one of the ancient goddesses of the land. And what, indeed, are ' all the fine churches of Italy, but costly play- houses for the Virgin Mary ? and what are the pope and his cardinals, but dolls and puppets for her amusement ? The rich hangings, in honor of the emperor and empress, which everywhere covered the walls and pillars, were no addition to the beauty of the place ; and the whole was much more im- pressive, when we saw it without them, on our return from Rome. This magnificent church is a basilica, having a nave and four aisles, which are divided by four rows of columns, each row numbering eight, and every column nearly ninety feet OS ( A YEAR IN EUROPE. in altitude. The capitals of these columns are richly sculp- tured, and the stone fretwork of the lofty arch above is exceedingly beautiful. The great doorway in front is flanked with two granite pillars, each consisting of a single block, the largest of the kind in Europe, which cost nearly ten thousand dollars. At the entrance of the choir are two immense columns, attached to which, and nearly encircling them, are two bronze pulpits, supported by colossal caria- tides, and covered with elaborate bas-reliefs. Over the high altar is a splendid tabernacle, containing, among other pre- cious relics, one of the nails which fastened the Saviour to the cross ; and in the rear are three gigantic windows of painted glass, each square of which displays a distinct and complete historical picture. At the foot of the steps lead- ing to the choir, and exactly under the octagonal tower, is a grating in the floor, surrounded by a railing, intended to admit light into the Silver Chapel below, where the skeleton of San Carlo Borromeo lies covered with jewels in a sarco- phagus of rock-crystal. A stairway in one of the transepts leads down to the shrine, and thousands go there continually to pay their homage to the mouldering bones. I saw, through an aperture behind the choir, a candle dimly burning there ; and a poor, ragged, cadaverous specimen of mascu- line humanity on his knees, weeping as if his heart were breaking. Another subterranean passage conducts to the archiepis- copal palace across the street. We eschewed both, and took the winding stairs to the roof. It was a long journey, but it amply repaid the toil. From the battlements we looked down into the broad Piazza, where a band of more than eighty musicians were playing a fine opera, upon thousands and thousands of people, who were waiting to see the emperor and the empress come forth from the palace on the opposite side. In a few moments the carriage of Her MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 89 Imperial Beauty appeared, followed by that of the Governor of Milan, accompanied by a small corps of cavalry ; but there was no shouting, nor waving of kerchiefs, nor casting of caps to the skies ; and when we lingered long in expectation of .the emperor, we were informed that he would not come out, being afraid to show himself to his subjects. "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." Another flight of steps led us to the very apex of the marble roof, where we paused again, to contemplate the for- est of snowy pinnacles around us, and their sculptured deco- rations. There are a hundred and sixty-six needles, all richly wrought, and every one surmounted by a colossal statue. All the statues and bas-reliefs together amount to six thou- sand six hundred and sixteen, and many more are yet to be added. From this point we ascended the spire, five hun- dred and twelve steps above the pavement; and, according to our guide, four hundred feet, though the books make it something less. It was a fearful height, and the tremor which ran through our nerves was not much relieved by the story told us of a lady who, sixteen years ago, fell from the battlement beneath us into the Piazza, a distance of nearly two hundred feet. But the view from the gallery is glorious : the city at your feet, with its palaces and promenades, its church -domes and campaniles; beyond its walls, a vast extent of meadow, rice-field, and vineyard, adorned with villages and villas, and intersected by rivers and canals ; and bounding the prospect on all sides, except to the southeast, where the valley of the Po is seen stretching away to Lodi and Cremona, the mighty walls of the Alps and the Apen- nines, serrated, and covered with glittering snow. When we had finished our survey, we had paid seven dis- tinct fees to as many guides, custodes, and pretenders ; and, 90 A YEAR IN EUEOPE. though. I have no doubt the amount was twice as much as was either just or necessary, we felt that we had got the full value of our money. A small sum we invested in a pamphlet, descriptive of the cathedral and its contents — one of the curiosities of modern literature, of which the follow- ing item is a specimen: "Two Old Testament pictures; the one being Hagar, with Ishmael's son, perishing of thirst in the wilderness ; the other being Abraham's wife herself, after she had been driven out." This book was written by a priest. The foundation of Milan, the ancient Mediolanum, dates from the sixth century before Christ. It contains a hun- dred and sixty-five thousand inhabitants, and is certainly a very beautiful city, though artists and critics generally find fault with its architecture. The streets are finely paved, and somewhat wider than those of most other continental cities we have visited. Milan was once the second city in Italy, though scarcely a vestige of its ancient splendor now remains. In the fifth century it was sacked by Attila, in the invasion which originated Venice ; and in the twelfth century its foundations were razed, its population dispersed, and its very name obliterated from the list of Italian cities, by the vengeance of Frederick the First. But this event was soon followed by the Great Lombard Confederacy; and in five years more the fugitives returned, and rapidly rebuilt the city. A century passed, and Milan was again a rich and flourishing place, leading the fashions of the civilized world, whence the origin of the word " milliner." About the middle of the sixteenth century it fell into the hands of the Spaniards ; but in the early part of the eighteenth was given by the treaty of Utrecht to the Austrians, who, with a few unimportant interruptions, have held it to the present time. The people, however, are restive and dissatisfied under the yoke, and the perpetual parade of Austrian troops MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 91 can scarcely keep them in subjection. After we left Milan I saw flaming accounts in the public prints of the Emperor's reception there, and the enthusiasm with which he was greeted by his loyal subjects; but it is sufficient to say, those accounts were not written by the Milanese, and those who write such generally regard the royal favor quite as much as they regard 'the truth. Two names in the history of Milan are worthy of immor- tal fame : that of St. Ambrose, in the third and fourth cen- turies, and that of San Carlo Borromeo, in the sixteenth. St. Ambrose, who had been educated for the law, was appointed prefect of Milan by the Emperor Yalentinian, in the year of our Lord 374. This important position he occupied for five years, during which he distinguished him- self for prudence and justice, and won the hearts of the whole community. At the end of that time a tumult arose in the cathedral about the election of a bishop, and the pre- fect repaired thither to quell the disturbance. A child in the crowd, on seeing him, cried out, "Ambrose is Bishop I" The assembly caught the words, and shouted with one con- sent, "Ambrose is Bishop !" The prefect, the layman, was manifestly the compromise candidate, the choice of the peo- ple. Confounded and alarmed, he refused the nomination ; but the emperor, who held his court at Milan, forced him to accept the honor. Ambrose at once made over all his property to the Church, and began the devout study of the Holy Scriptures. His subsequent labors were earnest and incessant, surpassing in amount those of any five bishops in the empire. When the Empress Justinia, a patroness of the Arian heresy, commenced a persecution against him, and re- quired him to surrender his church, he repaired thither, and spent whole days and nights in devotion, and employed the people in singing hymns and psalms continually, nor rested till Arianism was quite expelled from Italy. When 92 A YEAE IN EUROPE. the Emperor Theodosius massacred, without trial and with- out distinction, seven thousand people of Thessalonica for killing one of his officers, Ambrose resolutely shut the door of the church against him for more than eight months, and refused the world's master admittance to the house of God till he had brought forth fruits meet for repentance. "When Austin came from Rome to Milan as professor of rhetoric, though sunk in the depths of Manichaeism, the brilliant young man was soon charmed by the eloquence of Ambrose, who led him to the feet of Jesus and the bosom of the Church, and in a few years St. Augustin was the great light of the Christian world. The ciceroni of Milan still pretend to show the door which the good bishop closed against the emperor, and the font in which he baptized his illustrious convert. St. Ambrose has been accused of nourishing those buds of superstition which had already begun to show themselves in the Church, and which two or three centuries later blossomed into Popery. With some qualification, the charge may be true ; but if history is to be relied upon, he lived and died firm in the apostolic faith, depending on the merits of Christ alone for justification, seeking the illumination and grace of the Holy Spirit, and habitually delighting in communion with G-od. A rich unction of evangelical piety rests on all his writings ; and he appears to have been a most fervent, faithful, laborious, and benevolent servant of the Church of Christ. If he aided the development of monasticism and the growth of prelatical pride, it was unconsciously and without design; and the humblest and best of Christian bishops should not be held strictly responsible for evils which he never antici- pated, and could not possibly foresee. Cardinal Borromeo was unquestionably, of all the prelates of the Church of Rome in the sixteenth century, the most enlightened and spiritual, the most laborious and beneficent. MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. S3 He is represented by his biographer, and regarded through- out Italy, as a model of all excellence .and virtue. To find such a character in such a connection — to find*so much "gold, silver, precious stones," mingling with so much " wood, hay, stubble" — is matter equally of wonder and of joy; while it warrants the charitable hope'that there may be more of real evangelical piety in the papal communion than Protestants are generally apt to suppose; and shows the identity and the influence of true religion, in circumstances the most unfavorable, and under appearances almost contra- dictory. Carlo Borromeo was created cardinal at the early age of twenty-two ; and for several years afterward he managed the temporal affairs of the pope, and presided over the Council of Trent. In 1565 he was made Archbishop of Milan, and went to reside in his drocese. He at once resigned all his other' preferments, and gave up the chief of his estates to his family. His archiepiscopal revenues he divided into three parts — one for the poor, another for the repairing and building of churches, the third for his own domestic expend- iture — thus devoting two-thircls to charity and religion. The splendor and luxury in which he had lived at Rome he now totally renounced ; sleeping on boards, wearing coarse garments, abstaining from delicate food, fasting long and frequently, spending whole nights in prayer, and adopting the word Humilitas as his motto. Having subjected himself to such severity of discipline, he set earnestly about the reformation of his clergy. His was the largest diocese in Italy, comprehending nearly nine hundred parishes, many of them in the wildest regions of the Alps. Yet he visited regularly every one of them, preaching and lecturing with indefatigable zeal, and exer- cising everywhere the watchfulness of a father. He insti- tuted a permanent council, which held monthly sessions, 94 A YEAR IN EUROPE. for the purpose of inspecting and regulating the conduct of the ecclesiastical orders. In this manner he corrected many abuses, removed many causes of scandal, abolished many superstitious usages, and did much for the production of a better state of morals. Protestants, when they glorify Mrs. Wesley and Robert Raikes as the inventors of the Sunday- school, are not aware that it was established by Archbishop Borromeo in Milan nearly three hundred years ago. He erected several colleges also, two or three hospitals, and many public fountains; and bestowed annually more than thirty-seven thousand dollars upon the poor, besides two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the course of his life upon various cases of special need. His humility, his self- command, his forgiveness of injuries, the profusion of his alms, and the sanctity of his life, gave him great influence with the people, and contributed largely to his success. In some of his reformatory enterprises he was opposed, of course, by the covetous, the ambitious*, or the profligate among the priesthood; and his biographers say that the higher classes were offended at the faithful plainness of his preaching, but the " common people heard him gladly." Once, while engaged in prayer, he was shot at by a hired assassin ; but he continued his devotions without pausing, and when he arose the ball fell from his sleeve. During a pestilence, which for six months ravaged the city, nothing could restrain him from visiting the sick and the dying; and when entreated to consult his own safety, his reply was, that a bishop who would not face any danger at the call of duty was unworthy of his office. He was continually found in the most infected places, administering consolation and relief to the perishing people ; and the last small remnants of his Roman splendor, even his bed, he parted with for their benefit. It is not strange that such a bishop should fall a victim to his zeal ; and during a laborious visit to MILAN AND ITS MARVELS.. 95 some of his mountain parishes, in 1584, this man of Gk>d contracted a fever, of which he died. That San Carlo Borromeo was warmly attached to the Romish Church, perhaps there is little room for doubt; but to those who will read his writings, and trace the current of his life, there can be just as little, it seems to me, that he built upon the true foundation, which, is Christ Jesus. His letters and sermons breathe a charming spirit of evangelical humility and devotion ; and all his energies of soul and body seem to have been engaged in works of piety and love. He was the F6nelon of Italy : with a more thorough "know- ledge of the word of Grod, and a candid perusal of his great contemporaries, the reformers of G-ermany and Swit- zerland, he might have been its Luther or its Zuingle. /•^ RECEIVED, :J02 96 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CH'APTEE VIII. TO THE ETERNAL CITY. BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY — ANOTHER, PEEP INTO THE NIGHT-GOWNS — NO- VARA VIEW OF THE ALPS BATTLE-FIELDS ALESSANDRIA CROSS- ING THE APENNINES GENOA— ENGLISH CHAPEL SEEING THE CITY CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS THE CATHEDRAL A RELIC LEGHORN MONTE NERO ITALIAN NAMES CIVITA VECCHIA GASPERONI AND . THE POPE TETE-A-TETE WITH A PRIEST "A FRIEND IN NEED" THE DILIGENCE ROME. The morning on which we left Milan was as fine as a January morning in Northern Italy could possibly be. The air was keen and bracing, and there was a slight sprinkling of snow upon the ground ; but the sun shone gloriously over the landscape, and the vineyards glittered like groves of diamonds. When far beyond the gates of the city, we turned to take a farewell look at the D'uomo, whose spires and statues, seen over the tops of the intervenient buildings, seemed a mass of inverted icicles. For many miles the country is planted with silk-mulberry trees, interlaced and festooned with vines ; and ever and anon a beautiful cottage is seen peeping through them ; and here and there a church- dome, with its accompanying campanile, towering over them ; or a cluster of tall cypresses, marking the site of some pleasant villa. Dionysius of Halicarnassus informs us that these lands in ancient times produced three crops a year ; that their wines and oils were unsurpassed throughout the TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 97 world ; that the fields abounded with cattle, and the forests with all sorts of game; that the neighboring mountains were clothed with fine timber, and contained vast quarries of the choicest marbles ; while the navigable rivers, in every direc- tion, afforded constant and easy communication from city to city. Whoever travels through Lombardy, even in winter, will not find it difficult to credit the most glowing accounts of its former affluence and fertility. Italy needs nothing but good government and true religion, with the intellectual and moral improvement thence resulting, to render it the finest country in the world. At present it is Paradise under the curse. Three hours by diligence, and we came to the Naviglio Grande, or Great Canal — worthy of its name — flowing with a pure and rapid current, and, with one exception, the oldest Mfc)rk of the kind in Europe. Another mile brought us to the Ticino, which we crossed upon a well-built granite bridge of eleven equal arches, that cost nearly £130,000. It was upon the banks of this river, and not far below this bridge, that the Romans met Hannibal on his., descent into Italy, and fought their first great battle with the invader ; and it is still hostile territory to all who come over the Alps, however peacefully inclined ; and the brigands of the Aus- trian Dogana robbed us of our passports, and then sent them after us to San Martino, the Sardinian Dogana ; where, as they were indispensable to our progress, we were fain to ransom them at about fifty cents apiece. But here were other hostilities : the Piedmontese banditti placed ladders against the diligence, brought down all our baggage, carried it into a large room, and proceeded to investigate the con- tents. Well knowing that resistance and expostulation alike were vain, I delivered up my keys, and while the im- pertinent scoundrels were peeping into the night-gowns, I stood perfectly calm, with my hands in my pockets, enjoying 5 98 A YEAR IN EUROPE. a delightful view of the distant Alps, and whistling most insultingly : " Hail, Columbia, happy land !" Finding nothing worth having in our trunks, they locked them up again, replaced them on the top of the diligence, and very coolly demanded " buona memo," which I, not appreciating the favor they had done us, as coolly declined giving them. They were not aware that I carried eighty sovereigns in a belt upon my person ! Seven miles to Novara, a brisk commercial town of sixteen thousand inhabitants ; where, not very reluctantly, we bade adieu to the diligence, and devoted two pleasant hours to the gratification of our spectacles. Nothing could be finer than the view of Monte Rosa, thirty or forty miles distant, though it seemed not more than six or eight, tinged with the glory of the setting sun. To the right rose the Wetter- horn, the Schreckhorn and the Jungfrau, with the double peak of Saint Gothard, and a hundred pinnacles of the Bernese Qberland; while to the left stood the Great Saint Bernard, and farther south the giant dome of Mont Blanc, still beyond which Mont Cenis guarded the passage from Piedmont into France. As the sun descended, the intense brilliancy of their snowy summits changed to a glowjing purple, which soon deepened into violet. The western sky was of a pale orange hue, and the eastern of a dark rose color, which blended "in. the blue of the zenith, darkening as the day declined. Once more on the Strada Ferrata. A shrill whistle, and we are away, skirting the battle-field where, on the twenty- ninth of March, 1849, after a long and bloody contest, the Piedmontese were defeated by the Austrians. Then over the Po, and past the field of Marengo, where, on the 14th of June, 1800, Napoleon achieved so memorable a victory over TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 99 tlie Austrians ', but it is a frosty night, and not a ghost is astir upon the starlit snow which covers the graves of the slain. And here is Alessandria, a city of forty thousand souls, the most remarkable monument of the Great Lombard League of 1167, when eighteen cities confederated for mutual protection against imperial tyranny, and built this city for a memorial and a defence. It was finished within a year from its foundation, and the inhabitants of the sur- rounding villages flocked hither for residence, and in a very short time formed a prosperous and powerful community ; so that seven years afterward, when Frederick I. laid siege to the place, he was speedily driven in disgrace from its walls, and glad to capitulate with a foe that he had contemned. There is nothing here to be seen, except an immense citadel, of very massive construction, which night and steam con- spire to prevent our seeing. Forward to Novi, of silken fame. Now snowy peaks begin to rise around us. We are rushing up the Apennines. At the summit we run through a tunnel nearly two miles long, and afterward descend the narrow valley of the Polce- vera, winding about in every direction, among rocky steeps and over dark ravines, through deep excavations, and on lofty embankments and bridges — romantic enough, no doubt, by day, but sublime amid the starry gloom of the night. Asleep, and dreaming deliciously. " Genova, Signore I" Sure enough, here is the station. As soon as the officials have inspected the night-gowns, we hasten to the hotel Croce di Malta, where we consult "tired nature's sweet restorer," till the Sabbath sun looks over the Apennines, and gilds the floating forest in the harbor. After breakfast, we went out in quest of public worship ; and, after a long walk and frequent inquiry, found the English Chapel — an upper room, about forty feet by fifty. The service of the English Church was read in a tone of dis- 100 A TEAR IN EUROPE. gusting affectation ; after which we had a very good sermon, most unworthily delivered. During the performance, the Lord's Prayer was five times repeated. The prayers for the Queen were like a Chinese map, which represents the Celes- tial Empire as a vast continent, and the other parts of the world as so many little islands around it. In the " British Chapel" at Trieste, a prayer of respectable length was offered for Joseph and Elizabeth of Austria, printed copies of which were found in every pew; but here there was nothing more than the briefest incidental allusion to His Sardinian Majesty, while there were two set prayers for " Our Most Grracious Queen Yietoria," besides the several petitions in the Litany for " Her Majesty and all the royal family." Such is British loyalty. The hotel Groce di Malta is an ancient building, whose- rooms — now modernized with windows, fire-places, and other conveniences unknown to its original occupants — were once the cells of the solitary Knights of Malta. At one end is a lofty square tower, with four fine century-plants at its four corners for pinnacles. Monday morning we ascended this elevation, where we had a good view of " Genoa la Su- perba," with its crescent of mountains on the one hand, and its unrivalled bay and harbor on the other. The houses along the mountain-side, rising in terraces one above another, present a strange and beautiful appearance ; while the fortifications on the surrounding heights, with the shipping, the moles that enclose it, the sentinel lighthouses at their extremities, and the broad Mediterranean beyond, render the scene one of the most varied and pleasing that can be imagined. After feasting the eye for an hour, we descended, and, map in hand, threaded the labyrinthian streets, often not more than eight feet wide, between palaces six and eight stories high, with church-domes and campa- niles towering sublimely over the roofs. In the upper part TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 101 of the city we found a beautiful open space, laid out in ser- pentine walks, and shaded with various evergreens, where the citizens promenade in crowds, and where we beheld the greater part of the city beneath us, with the harbor beyond, and the surrounding amphitheatre of hills — forming a most magnificent panorama. The fortifications overlooking the town — some of them from a height of more than sixteen hundred feet, and garrisoned by seven hundred soldiers — are said to be more extensive than those of any other city in Europe, except Paris. Genoa abounds in remnants of Roman grandeur, and many of its finest residences and churches are built upon the foundations of ancient palaces and temples. The cathedral was erected in the eleventh century, but has received many modern improvements and additions, so that it presents an unsightly jumble of all styles of architecture. One of the friezes displays an inscription, stating that the city was founded by Janus the First, King of Italy, and grandson of Noah; and taken by Janus the Second, Prince of Troy. Into the chapel of John the Baptist, where his relics are preserved, no female is ever admitted, save on one particular day of the year, because Herodias and her daughter occa- sioned the martyrdom of that saint. There is a vessel kept in the treasury, said to have been presented by the Queen of Sheba to Solomon, used by our Lord in the last supper with his disciples, and by Joseph of Arimathea to catch the blood which flowed from the Redeemer's side upon the cross. It was brought by the crusaders from the Holy Land, and the priests long pretended that it was made from a single emerald, and fetched it forth thrice a year from the sacristy ; for the veneration of good Catholics ; but all this turned out, as some had suspected, a mere imposition upon popular cre- dulity; for the invaluable catino, at the sight of which thousands had wept and wondered, but which it was impris- 102 A YEAR IN EUROPE. onraent or death for common hands to touch, was ascertained to be nothing bnt colored glass. We saw the monument, a very handsome one, which they are erecting in honor of Christopher Columbus, but could not get a sight of his letters; which latter are kept under a glass case, lest Americans should steal them ; and, like every thing else in Italy, shown for a price. That night we slept on the Mediterranean, and the next morning awoke in Leghorn. The steamer tarried here eight hours ; and we made good use the while of our spectacles ; and those public pickpockets, the police-officers, made good use of our purses ; and the lazzaroni, those never-failing tor- mentors, made good use of our patience ; and the veturini and ciceroni, those indispensable annoyances, made better use of both. Leghorn is not a very ancient city, and pos- sesses comparatively few" interesting works of art ; but some of its sacred edifices are well worth a visit, if not for the imposing architecture of their exterior, yet for their interior decorations and costly treasures. We entered only the Jew- ish synagogue and one of the Grreek churches — the former containing a great variety of precious marbles ; the latter elaborately ornamented with painting and gilding, and en- riched with some very rare and curious things. The sacris- tan showed us a magnificent copy of the Holy Bible, bound in massive plates of gold ; and a large number of sacerdotal robes, stiff with precious metals, and heavy with glittering gems — any one of which might purchase a comfortable ward- robe for all the beggars in town. We next procured a hack, and rode out to Monte Nero, an elevation overlooking the city and the sea, and crowned with a monastery and a church. Here is a picture of the Virgin, which, five hun- dred years ago, sailed hither, unaided and alone, from one of the Grecian islands; and has ever since been to the Livomese, and very properly, an object of peculiar venera- TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 103 tion. Having reconnoitred the buildings, we ascended still higher; and, from the top of the mountain, saw Leghorn, with all its pleasant environs, spread out like a map before us ; the valley of the Arno, stretching away toward Pisa and Florence, and awakening in the mind pictures of leaning towers, and vast galleries of the Belle Arti; on the other hand, in full view, the islands of Elba and Corsica, recalling the strange history of him whose achievements changed the fate of Europe and the world ; and while I gazed at those blue masses rising out of the Mediterranean, and mused on the wretched condition of Italy and the Papal nations, I could not help thinking that our own Kirwan was right — that a man with the genius of Napoleon and the virtues of Wash- ington was indeed u the great want of the world," for which " the whole earth should cry to Heaven \" We returned to the steamer, and bade adieu to Leghorn. By the way, what a pity the sweet Italian name Livomo should ever have been barbarized into Leghorn ! And why do we say Rome instead of Roma, and Turin instead of Torino, and Milan instead of Mllano, and Florence instead of Firenze, and Venice instead of Venezia, and Naples instead of Napoli? The Italian is certainly as easy of pro- nunciation, and much more agreeable to the ear. The next morning at sunrise we dropped anchor in the harbor of Givita Vecchia, close under the wall of that dis- mal castle where, through the tender mercies of His Holiness, the wretched G-asperoni, during a long series of years, ex- piated his many murders. This is one of the purgatories — there are many others — of which the successor of St. Peter keeps the key, with unquestionable power to bind and loose. Was his dealing with the aforesaid sinner a specimen of his truth ? It is said the famous brigand was assured that, upon condition of his surrender, he should be pardoned Trusting in the faith of the Vicar of God, and weary, per 104 A YEAR IN EUROPE. haps, of a life of crime, lie delivered himself up. The Vicar of God kept his word by incarcerating him for life in a dungeon. Lately he was removed to an inland prison, where, it is reported, he has since died. Gasperoni was not well pleased with his treatment, charging the pope with treachery, and declaring that about thirty or forty murders were all he ever committed. Alas ! many better men, for no other crime than their- fidelity to God and his truth, have suffered much more in the hell of the inquisition — years of starvation, with periodical tortures, and death in its most dreadful forms. Having waited about two hours for the accommodation of the custom-house officers, we were allowed to go on shore in a little boat; but being forestieri — foreigners — the boatman charged us twice as much as he charged the Italians who ■ were with us, nor would he consent to land us for less. Of the forty or fifty commissionaires clamoring on the wharf for the privilege of serving us, we selected one of the most honest-looking, put our baggage into his hands, and followed him to the filthy Hotel cV Europe. Here we learned that the diligence would not leave for Rome till some time after noon, and I improved the intervenient hours by a pedestrian exploring excursion through streets and lanes the least invit- ing I have ever seen. I certainly saw the best part of the town, for I saw it all ; but I saw no place where I would consent to spend my days, for the whole area, and its entire contents, with the forty miles of campagna between it and " the Eternal City." And this is the ancient Centum Cellos; this is the city of Trajan, and the favorite retreat of the Roman emperors. Pliny found it " a right pleasant place ;" but to-day it wears as sorry an aspect as any that the sun shines upon. There is nothing here but mud, and rags, and fleas, and swine, and beggars, and pickpockets, and poor heavy-laden donkeys, and modern dwellings resting on wor- TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 105 thier ruins, and castles, and prisons, and churches, all in keeping. Returning to the hotel, I found Mrs. Cross holding a tete- a-tete with a long black robe, surmounted by a broad three- cornered hat, and enclosing a very polite specimen of the Romish priesthood. He was a missionary to India, where he had spent the last fifteen years ; had been in Italy three months on a visit, and had just come from Rome to reern- bark for his distant field of labor. He had with him a native of Rurmah, whom he said he had made a Christian. We found him very talkative and agreeable; and, to all appearances, an honest man. He told us that they had in India at least a thousand missionaries, fifteen bishops, a hun- dred colleges, and plenty of nuns — something for the Pro- testant Churches to think of! He told us, also, that there are now in the Propaganda at Rome thirteen young Ameri- cans, preparing for the priesthood — something for American Christians to ponder ! In recommending to us certain lodg- ings in Rome, he said : "They are good people : I was there myself: the padrone is very good man: you can leave your purse on the table when you go out, and it will be there when you come back I" Rut when we inquired as to the expense, he replied : " You can get the rooms for twenty- five scudi a month, perhaps for twenty : they will ask you forty, because you are forestidri : they will get all they can from forestieri : you must be careful : you must make good bargain : you must not let them cheat you." So this is a priest's idea of a good man : he will not steal your purse, but he will cheat you if he can. What is to be expected of a country where the religious teachers of the people have no higher standard of morality ? Soon after twelve the diligence was ready, and so were we. Rut 0, Pio Nono ! what a clamor for buono memo ! Our commissionaire, and three or four facehim, were exor- 5* 106 A YEAR IN EUROPE. bitant, importunate, stentorious. It was not enough that we had paid two prices for landing, and three prices for break- fast, and a dollar for the vise of our passport ; nor was it enough that half the population had followed us begging through the town, and the prisoners stretched out their hands through the grated windows for carita as we passed ; but now there are not less than half-a-dozen distinct demands for unknown services, and innumerable hats thrust at us from every quarter, with imploring cries for qualcha cosa. Perplexed, bewildered, and almost desperate, I was just ready to throw all my change to the crowd, when I was startled by the question, in perfect English : " Can I be of any service to you, sir V 1 Looking up, I saw at my elbow a handsome little man, in a gray suit, with a delicate ratan in his hand. "I am the American Consul," he added, "and- have come to see if I can render you any assistance : stran- gers are subject to great annoyance here; these people would cheat you out of your eyes." He took the money out of my hand, and soon dismissed the several claimants, and drove away the lazzaroni with his stick. Then he explained to me the Eoman currency; told me what I had to pay each postilion on the road ; gave me his card, with the name of a good hotel in Rome ; assisted Mrs. Cross into the coach, and bade us adieu in the politest manner. By no means an un- pleasant incident in such a den of thieves ! Travelling by diligence in Italy is not the most delightful thing imaginable. The carriages are awkward and uncom- fortable, the progress intolerably slow, and the postilions insolent. In feeing these short-tailed officials, I adhered scrupulously to the instructions of the Consul ; but the short- tailed official's looked blank, then sour, then furious, and at last threw back the money indignantly. By such means these men often extort considerable sums from travellers, for most people would rather pay an extra paolo or two than TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 107 have their necks broken ; but in this instance the effort was a failure, and I doubt not the disappointed wight in the sequel regretted his menace. When the nuisance will be abated, I cannot tell, because I know not when the railway to Rome will be finished. It took a long time for the government to determine upon the expediency of building it, and it seems likely to require a longer for the execution of the work. It was now growing dark, and I know nothing more of the campagiia or the road, except that it was constantly up and down the hills, with innumerable curves and bridges, till about ten o'clock, as we were rattling down a descent close under a lofty wall, when all at once the dome of St. Peter's broke upon our sight, like a temple in the sky. In a few moments more we were within the wall, and making the curve of that majestic colonnade — which seemed a wilder- ness of pillars — encircling the piazza in front of that most magnificent of churches. And now, at the fine Hotel de Minerve, to which our polite little friend at Civita Vecchia recommended us with his compliments, let us rest till morn- ing — our first night in " The Eternal City." 108 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER IX. FIRST DATS IN ROME. SEEKING APARTMENTS SETTLED, UNSETTLED, AND RESETTLED THE SABBATH PRIESTLY DESPOTISM A LITTLE LEAVEN STREET SPEC- TACLES BLESSINGS FOR BEASTS BEGGARS PANORAMA-LECTURE — THE CITY OE THE CiESARS — THE CITY OP THE POPES. The next morning I went forth in search of Mr. Johnson, an American artist, to whom I bore a letter of introduction. But how to find the needle in the hay-stack, that was the question. Perhaps I may obtain some information at the Piazza di Spa-gna. A guide offers his services, who knows Mr. J. very well, and will bring me straight to his studio. He leads the way : I follow. But at the first corner he stops to inquire for u Mosoo Zhonse, scidptore Americano." u No, no!" cried I; " Mr. Johnson, American painter!" The Italian knave evidently knew nothing of the man. I re- solved, however, that he should fulfil his promise. After more than an hour's walk, with frequent inquiries for " Mosoo Zhonse," we find that gentleman in the Via Babu- ino. Having read the letter, he proposes to go with me at once in quest of apartamenti. His amiable little wife,, who speaks Italian fluently, accompanies us in the character of interpretess. Four full hours we travel through all sorts of streets, down all sorts of lanes, up all sorts of stairs, into all sorts of houses, among all sorts of people, not because FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 109 there are no rooms for rent, but because so few are properly furnished, and fewer still to be had at a reasonable price. The grand holydays are at hand, and the forestieri are flocking to Rome, and the most exorbitant demands are made for furnished apartments. After dinner, without our interpretess, Mr. Johnson and myself renew the quest. In the Via de Condotti we are shown a very neat set of rooms, well furnished withal, and the rent only " trcnta scudi per mese." The old woman seems anxious to close the bargain. A pair of bright eyes are watching us from a slightly opened door. We prefer that the ladies shall see the place, and promise to call again. " Una momento, Signori !" exclaims the old woman ; and then she calls aloud, "Angela I" and in bounds a beautiful girl of sixteen. A sweeter face I saw not in Italy. She was exceedingly well attired, and played some very pretty coquettish airs; half hiding behind her mother, and doing her utmost endeavors to blush. And this fair Signorina, we were informed, would wait upon our table, and make our beds, and be wholly at our command. We were evidently taken for two single gentlemen, and im- mediately corrected the error. But this unlucky piece of information ruined all our hopes. The Padrona's price was forty scudi, and the rooms could not be let to a man with a wife! We saw no more of the coy glances of the little maiden ; and a cloud came over her pretty features, as she closed the door behind us. The next day Mr. Bartholomew, an American sculptor, kindly joined our party, and we found rooms with which we were well plSas'ed on the Via Babuino. There was nobody at home but a young girl, who told us that the rent of the apartments was twenty scudi. But could they not be obtained for less ? " yes, for sixteen." Now the padrona entered, chid the girl for putting the rent 'so low, but finally concluded the bargain with us for the same price. I immediately set- 110 A YEAR IN EUROPE. tied my bill at the hotel, removed our baggage hither, bought a load of wood, and we began life in Eome. In the evening the pa drone came from his studio, and there was an angry colloquy in the other part of the house. Shortly he entered our apartments and said : "You have engaged these rooms; you are to pay in advance; I must have the sixteen scudi this night." I told him I had nothing but French or Brit- ish gold, and it would be difficult to make the exchange so late on Saturday evening, but Monday morning I would give him Roman money. "No," said he, with violence, "but I must be paid to-night, and in Roman currency I" I went to consult Mr. Johnson as to what was to be done. Mr. John- son brought in Mr. Bartholomew. Mr. B. has a facile use of the Italian tongue, and a thorough knowledge of Italian character and customs. The Romans fear him, and call him " Signore Diavolo." " Signore Diavolo" enters, calls for the padrone, and awaits him, standing, in the middle of the floor. Padrone instantly obeys the summons — a small man, fine- looking, with an eye as fierce as an eagle's — one of Doctor Young's " Souls of fire, and children of the sun, With whom revenge is virtue." Mr. B. coolly inquires what he means by demanding imme- diate payment, contrary to legal custom. Padrone bursts with rage. Mr. B. steps back a little, assumes the attitude of an emperor, surveys the Italian from head to feet with an annihilating glance, then opens upon him such a battery as might have demolished one of the old Roman battalions. Roscius, thou shouldst have been there! Padrone's crest suddenly falls; in five minutes he is as humble as a whipped spaniel, perfectly willing to wait for his money, and hopes we will remain in the apartments. " They will not remain," exclaims Mr. B. ; "I have advised them to leave, and will FIRST DAYS IN ROME. Ill myself find another place for theru on Monday." Then he turns upon his heel ; and retires as he entered; after which padrone, with many apologies, hows himself out of the room. It was altogether one of the finest dramatic scenes I ever witnessed; albeit, Mrs. C. deemed it prudent to pile sundry chairs, tables, sofas and bureaus against the door, before we lay down to sleep. Sunday morning came, and your forestieri were safe. A boy from a neighboring trattoria brought us a "bifstecca," (beef-steak,) a roll of bread, and a cup of caffe latta. This having enjoyed, with prayer and thanksgiving to our Heaven- ly Father, we accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Johnson to the Braschi Palace for worship. The large hall was much crowded, and it was pleasant to see so many Protestant sects repre- sented in the assembly, all unmindful of the several pecu- liarities of creed and custom which divided them at home. Mr. Hall, a Congregational minister from New England, conducted the service; and Mr. Bartholomew, assisted by several American artists, led the singing. The Braschi Pal- ace is the residence of our Minister, Mr. Cass, and the gen- eral Sabbath rendezvous of American sojourners in Borne; for under the stars and stripes they are permitted to worship God in their own manner, while no such honor is conferred upon the flag of any other Protestant nation, though the English have a small chapel just without the Porta del Popolo, where nothing need be apprehended particularly offensive to His Holiness. We worshipped in the Braschi Palace every Lord's day during our residence in Borne, and once I had the privilege of preaching there, and several times assisted in the administration of the Holy Supper. If not to Rome, yet to many a sojourner, this Bethel may prove a blessing. It was a blessing to us. Monday morning we we*e out again in search of rooms, and soon succeeded in securing very comfortable quarters on the 112 A YEAE IN EUROPE. Via Frattina. The writings were drawn by Mr. B., and duly signed by the parties; and now behold us, admiring reader, more independent than Augustus upon the Palatine, with an Authoress for a cook and a Doctor of Divinity for a butler, dwelling, as Paul once did a little way down the Corso, in our "own hired house/' and "receiving all who came in." Pardon me — not all ! for one day came a priest, with incense and holy water, to bless and sanctify our apart- ments, whose pious offices we respectfully declined; and another day came a hooded and sandalled monk, with his little alms-bos, imploring carita for his order, to whom also we could not hearken; and afterwards came troops of beg- gars — some for the Church, and some for themselves — some with oral supplications, and some with letters addressed to "The Illustrious and Most Benevolent Signore Grieuseppe Croce and his Most Worthy MogliaGriovanna" — none of whom could we find in our hearts to admit. Among those whom we did receive, however — American artists, English tourists and Roman citizens — We found some very agreeable society There were Messrs. Bartholomew, Akers and Mosier, sculp tors ; Messrs. Johnson,- Nichols, Williams and Bothermel painters; Mr. Page, also, with his three amiable daughters and several other ladies of accomplished minds and man- ners; the Bev. Mr. Forbes, an English clergyman; the Bev. Mr. Hall, our excellent chaplain; Mr. Irving N. Hall, a far-travelled young gentleman from Connecticut; Mr. Anthony S. Dey, an enlightened and most estimable bachelor from New York; Professor Sanguinetti, of the Bo- man University, a rather indifferent papist; Abate Scotti, a priest who has more faith in the forcstieri than in the mum- meries of his own profession, and who frankly confessed that his ouly motive in taking orders was to secure a comfortable subsistence without labor. • Apropos of the priesthood : One of these gentlemen told FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 113 us of a young lady who would not go to confession, and was therefore sent to a dungeon. The holy father told her to expect during the night a visit from the devil. Accord- ingly, about the middle of the night, she heard dismal groans, accompanied with the clank of chains. The door of her cell opened, and a frightful apparition stalked in, visible by the light of a blue flame, and diffusing a horrid smell of sulphur. The next morning the poor girl was a maniac; and soon afterward a corpse. Mr. Hall informed us that in several instauces Romans had come to him to express their dissent from the doctrines, and their disgust with the practice*, of the Papal Church. One, who belonged to a religious order, and had held an important official connection with a convent, was extremely anxious to find means of escape from the country. Another, who, at the order of his father, was in course of training for the priesthood, to which he had the strongest aversion, said that if he could once get out of Italy, he would thwart the pa- rental purpose by marrying as soon as possible. Nothing but a settled conviction of the falseness and corruption of the papal system had induced these desires and resolutions. Mr. H. procured one of these persons a situation as courier to an English family travelling on the continent, and the other some unimportant commission in Paris^ which answered, at least, as a pretext on which he might ge^ a passport; but in each case there was the observance of the utmost caution, and the greatest fear of being suspected. Our location in the Via Fratina was a very favorable one for witnessing many interesting spectacles. Here frequently passed the cardinals, on their way to the Propaganda Col- lege, which is situated at the head of the street. Funeral processions, with hired mourners, and long trains of monks, in brown robes and hoods, were constantly creeping by; and often a company of priests, carrying the host under a gay 114 A YEAR IN EUROPE. canopy to the chamber of some sick person ; burning their wax candles, ringing their little bells, and chanting their Latin prayers, as they went slowly and solemnly along, while all who met them dropped upon their knees in the street. The most memorable procession to me, however, was one of horses, which I met one morning coming down from the church of San Antonio Abate, whither they had been to be blessed. This interesting ceremony takes place on the seven- teenth of January, which is the festa of San Antonio, and during the following week. The horses of His Holiness, and those of the cardinals, princes, and nobles, are brought to the front of the church in fich caparisons. Here stands a priest, who dips a brush in a bucket of holy water, and sprinkles it upon the animal, making the sign of the cross, and mumbling his benediction. That horse cannot balk, nor kick, nor stumble disastrously, nor run away inconti- nently, for twelve months to come ; and is, for the same period, proof against accident and disease. To the horses of the postmasters a blessing is especially important, because they carry the mail, and are often in danger from the ban- ditti. The peasants also seldom fail to seek this invaluable benefit for their mules and donkeys. The cavalcade of which I speak were evidently conscious of the grace which they had received ; for while some moved slowly along, as if in solemn meditation, others arched their necks with a spe- cial sublimity, as if puffed up with spiritual pride, and others again danced for very joy, as if they had just come from a camp-meeting. I had heard much of Italian beggars and begging ; but the half, the hundredth even, had never been told me. Hans Christian Andersen's old Beppo still does a brisk busi- ness on the steps of the Trinifa dei Monti, where he is licensed according to law to practice his impositions upon strangers. This miserable old cripple, it is reported, has FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 115 many thousand scudi at interest ; and yet he rides hither every morning, ties his donkey to a contiguous ilex, and hops to and fro like a frog till sunset, presenting his- hat to every passenger, with a — "Bon giorno, signore ; Deo com- jpane" — Grood morning, sir; God be with you. I stood one day, and observed him for an hour, during which more than thirty persons gave him money. He never thanks the donor; and lately when some one asked him the reason, he replied, " It is nothing to me ; you give as a' penance for your sins !" Near the foot of the stairs I often met with a lad of ten or twelve years, who begged for a blind father; plying the hearts of the passers-by with so pleasant a voice, and so polite a manner, that it was difficult to resist his plea. There were also two little models, a boy and a girl, much younger, generally to be found in the Piazza di Spagna ; whose contadini attire was so picturesque, and whose address was altogether so bewitching, that I never failed to give them a bajocclio apiece, though I saw them almost every day. I seldom walked out in any direction without encoun- tering a youth with immense blue eyes, leading a blind brother, who followed from street to street, with the most annoying importunity; or a cadaverous apparition, with a withered arm dangling uncovered from the shoulder, one of the most revolting objects I ever beheld. These are only a few specimens. Rome is a city of beggars, literally living upon the forestieri ; and without foreign patronage the city of the pope would perish. This was her harvest season ; but after Easter, the crowd of strangers scattered, the artists repaired to the mountains, the tourists journeyed their several ways, even the writer " took his hat and dispersed," and Rome again was stagnant. One beautiful day, map in hand, we ascended the tower of the Capitol, which stands between the Rome that was aud the Rome that is, the dead and the living Rome ; and there> 116 A YE All IN EUROPE. with an atmosphere perfectly transparent, enjoyed the en- chanting panorama — the modern city, the ancient ruins, the golden Tiber, the far-spreading Campagna, and its boundary wall of classic mountains, gleaming with gold and crystal. Let the reader imagine himself one of the party, while I, as lecturer, proceed to point out the more important objects in the picture, and instruct him a little in the topography of the Eternal City. We will not "Plod our way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples;" it were too laborious ; but from this advantageous elevation, we will look down upon the wreck of human glory at our feet, where wall, and arch, and shaft, and capital, have lain crumbling for many centuries. Turn toward the south, and let us begin in due form : "The Niobe of nations! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her withered hands, Whose holy dust was scattered long ago ; The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now; The very sepulchres lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers : dost thou flow, Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress." Ladies and gentlemen : You see before you the cij;y of the Cassars, " lone mother of dead empires I" The Capitoline, upon which you stand, is one of the seven hills. The six others lie around you in the form of a crescent. On your right, rising abruptly from the Tiber, is the Aventine, the loftiest of them all, crowned with three churches, and con- stituting a very picturesque object. Separated from this by a narrow valley, stands the Palatine, where Romulus first reared his habitation, and the Caesars afterward had their FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 117 palace. The arches of the foundation are still there, sur- mounted by that beautiful English villa. In a broader val- ley to the east you see the Coliseum, where gladiators fought, and martyrs suffered; and beyond it, the GeUmn, with the maguificent basilica of Saint John Lateran at its farther extremity. Turning your eyes still to the left, you find another and broader elevation, on which are the ruined Baths of Titus, the Temple of Minerva Medica, and the gorgeous modern Church of Santa Maria Maggiore. This is the JEsquiline. That massive leaning tower, and o+her struc- tures contiguous, partly conceal the lower ground between it and the Quirinal. The highest point of the latter is called Monte Cavallo, and that large palace upon the top is the usual summer-dwelling of the pope. The. broad table-land beyond is the Viminal, the last of the seven, partly occu- pied by the Baths of Dioclesian and the Church of San Lorenzo. North of this you see Monte Pincio, with its graceful cypresses, its laurels and magnolias; and inter- spersed among these, with the aid of your lorgnette, you may perceive long lines of statuary. The grounds are taste- fully laid out in curvilinear walks and carriage-roads, fringed with various flowers and tropical shrubbery, and artificial forests of evergreen, with here and there a lofty stone-pine, like a vast parasol, shading its emerald beauty. This is the favorite resort of the modern Romans ; and the distant music that you hear is from the band playing there in front of the fountain for the gratification of the multitude. Now draw a line directly through the city, from this point to the Aven- tine, on the opposite side, where we began; and the area enclosed between it and the line of the ancient wall, which from our advantageous eminence may be easily traced out- side of all the objects and localities I have indicated to you, comprehends the whole space occupied by the Ante- Augus- tan Rome, nearly in the form of a half-moon. 118 A YEAR IN EUROPE. But turn again to the southeast. Close on your left once stood the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus ; on your right, the Arx Gapitoli; just beyond which is still to be seen the Tarpeian Rock — " The promontory, whence the traitor's leap Cured all ambition." The large open space exactly before you, and almost at your feet — partly excavated, and everywhere strewn with ruins- was the Forum Romanum, the very heart of the ancient city. That semicircular wall, with the concave side toward us — partly covered by the present road — was the Rostrum, from which rolled the sonorous periods of Cicero. That massive arch, covered with bas-reliefs, at its left end, is the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus. The eight large Ionic columns at its other extremity are part of the portico of the temple of Saturn. The three fine Corinthian shafts of white marble between us and the rostrum belonged to the temple of Vespasian. Just to the left of these you see a portion of the variegated marble pavement of the temple of Concord ; between which and our present station, but so near as to be concealed by the building beneath us, is the place where the senate held its sessions. On the right of the columns, also invisible, are the remains of the portico of the Scola Zanilia, where sat the notaries, amid the statues of the twelve Dei Consenti. Passing under the arch of Septimius Severus, you trace an ancient way, paved with large polygonal blocks of stone, deeply indented by chariot wheels : it is that by which the emperor ascended into the capitol. The building nearest the arch on the left is a modern church, beneath which are the Mamertine Prisons, where it is said both Saint Peter and Saint Paul were incar- cerated. The single pillar nearly in front of the rostrum, FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 119 and on the farther side of the present road, is that which Byron, in Childe Harold, calls " The nameless column, with the buried base ;" but since the poet's day, its base has been -uncovered, and an inscription upon it proves that it was erected in honor of Phocas, and once supported his statue. The large oblong excavation on the right of the forum reveals the broken columns, and some of the marble pavement, of the Basilica Julia. Beyond it are three richly-wrought Corinthian pil- lars, about which antiquarians have not yet ceased quarrel- ling, and I shall have nothing to say. The arch beyond them — the most beautiful of all the Roman arches — is that of Titus, reared in commemoration of the conquest of Jerusalem. It is covered with bas-reliefs ; one of which represents the victor in his triumphal chariot; and another, the golden candlestick of the temple, borne as a spoil in the procession. The Via Sacra, the pavement of which you see passing under the arch, was the favorite walk of Horace. That huge and lofty ruin, some distance to the left of it, is part of the Basilica of Constantine — formerly the supposed remains of the Temple of Peace. The whole space — now covered with buildings — between this and the Forum of Trajan, yonder at the foot of the Quirinal, is thought to contain the most valuable remains of Imperial. Pome; but they lie many feet beneath the surface, and their disinter- ment would be attended with great expense. Ladies and Gentlemen : You have seen the city of the Cassars : Will you look at the city of the Popes ? Saint Peter's, at least, though nearly two miles distant, merits a momentary glance. Step round to the other side of the tower. Ay, there it stands, beyond the Tiber, and the Castle of Saint Angelo — a mountain of masonry, yet finished like a jewel — the most magnificent basilica in the world. 120 A YEAR IN EUROPE. How every thing dwindles into insignificance around it, and.the yast sis-storied range of the Vatican looks a child's play-house beneath its walls ! What a majestic dome — as large as the Pantheon which you see before you — and yet how perfect in its proportions ! Farther to the right you behold three broad streets, perfectly straight, all meeting at the northern extremity of the city — the Babuino and the Ri-petta, with the Corso between them. The point at which they unite is the Porta del Popolo. The church close to it on the right, covers the spot where tradition reports Nero to have been buried. In that church Martin Luther performed mass, it is said, for the last time. The Corso seems to be continued beyond the gate. That is the Via Flaminia — the great post-road to Florence. The bridge by which it crosses the Tiber, a mile farther on, is the place where Constantine achieved his memorable victory over Masentius. Follow that road some six or seven miles beyond the bridge, and you are among the ruins of Veil — the most powerful city of the old Etruscan con- federacy j which maintained no less than thirteen successful wars with Rome ; but in the fourteenth, after a ten years' siege, fell by the stratagem of a foe that could not conquer her by force. On the precipitous height between it and the Tiber perished the six hundred Fabii — the Roman Spartans ; and some old arches to be seen there are thought to be the substructions of their castle. An abrupt hill, with a large building upon it, overlooking the Tiber, five miles from Veii, and the same distance from Rome, is the site of Fidene — destroyed by the Romans more than four centuries before the Christian era. Half-way between us and it, also over- looking the Tiber, is another hill on which once stood Antemne — " the city of many towers" — one of the first sub- dued by Romulus. On the plain between these two cities were fought many sanguinary battles between the Etruscans FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 121 and the Romans; and it seems fit that Nero should have chosen to cut short his vicious and cruel life in that field of blood. How beautiful are the Sabine Mountains on our right ! how glorious their garniture of amethyst and gold ! and how quietly the little town of Tivoli reposes there in their protecting arms ! The lofty and picturesque range still farther to the south is called the Alban Hills. What a soft and mellow light rests upon the villages along their lower slopes ! and how like piles of crystal the snow glis- tens upon their summits ! That broad table-land between the two highest points is the place where Hannibal en- camped with his army. The road which you see straight before you is the Via Appia, excavated chiefly by the pre- sent pope, the first eleven miles of which is a street of tombs, now in utter ruin; and the line of dilapidated arches, nearly parallel with it, once sustained the aqueduct which supplied Korne with water from the distant moun- tains. Ladies and G-entlemen : This closes the present entertain- ment. I thank you for your attention, and hope you will continue to honor me with your patronage, which I shall do my best to merit. 122 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER X. VETTURA TO TERRACINA. TROUBLESOME FACCHINO — ACROSS THE CAMPAGNA — ALBANO — LA RIC- CIA — VELLETRI — CISTERNA — CORA AND NORMA A BACE EOB BA- JOCCHI — PONTINE MARSHES — FORO APPIO FORWARD AGAIN — MONTE CIRCELLO — TERRACINA. Having witnessed the carnival, and many other things not worth recording, we made up a travelling party, and set forth for southern Italy. Our company consisted of four young Americans besides ourselves ; namely, Mr. Hall, Mr. Dey, Mr. "Wood, and Miss Emma Page, the daughter of a distinguished artist at Rome. Fellow-travellers more agreeable were not to be desired, and a more delightful trip of four weeks were scarcely possible. ■ Our vetturino too, a skilful and careful driver, was extremely kind and obliging, which contributed not a little to our enjoyment. We char- tered a vettura to Naples, which cost us about fourteen dol- lars apiece, including entertainment by the way. The distance is a hundred and forty -three miles, and the jour- ney occupied a little more than three days. The modern post-road follows the ancient Via Appia, with the exception of a few brief detours, through the entire route ; so that we were constantly travelling over classic ground, and passing some of the most interesting relics of antiquity. The only incident to mar our enjoyment occurred as we were leaving Rome, and that was but the shadow of a sum- VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 128 mer cloud. While our driver was arranging on the top of the coach what little baggage we carried, one of those Italian nuisances that are constantly hanging about to force upon strangers assistance which they do not need, unsought and unsolicited, handed up a small trunk and a carpet-bag. For this very important service he demanded a fee, and was paid two pauls — equal to twenty cents — a liberal reward. As we drove off he mounted the box, and rode out as far as the gate. San Giovanni, for which he demanded another fee. His company being neither profitable nor desirable, we declined paying him any thing more. Therefore he "went into an Italian rage, called us all the ugly names at his com- mand, warned us to look out for him on the campagna, de- clared that two of the company would never return to Rome, and told the young lady, who, by -the way, is very beautiful both in features and complexion, that she was u molto brutto di colore" — of a very ugly color ! After sun- dry ineffectual exhortations and remonstrances, we referred the case to the police-officers at the gate, and went on our way rejoicing. The campagna from Rome to Albano — fourteen miles — is everywhere strewn with ruins. On our right, for ten miles at least, were, the shattered tombs and monuments of the Via Appia ; and on our left, the broken arches of the aqueducts — the grandest of all the Roman antiquities. Then we began to ascend the Alban Mountains, between perpetual vineyards and olive-groves. As we walked be- hind the vettura for the relief of the horses, we turned repeatedly to look back over one of the finest landscapes that ever blessed the eyes of man — the far-spreading cam- pagna, with Rome in the centre, and the mountains and the Mediterranean beyond. Near the gate of Albano, we passed the tomb of Pompey the Great, whose ashes were brought from Egypt, and deposited here by Cornelia. It is 124 A YEAR IN EUROPE. a half-ruined structure, of four stories, beautiful in its pro- portions, and originally encased with white marble. Pom- pey's Villa, and that of Clodius, were situated where Albano now stands; also the Villa of Doniitian, and his amphitheatre, the scene of the most revolting cruelties of the last and worst of the Caesars. Traces of these are still to be seen, and those of many other villas of the Roman patricians, with temples, and baths, and tombs. Albano is a finely-located town, with about six or seven thousand inhabitants — a favorite resort of the Roman nobility during the sickly summer season. The Via Appia passes straight through it, and is the principal street. Just beyond the town, on the right of the road, stands an old Etruscan sepulchre, formerly thought to be the tomb of the Horatii and Curatii, but lately ascertained to be that of Aruns, the son of Porsenna. Immediately after passing this, we crossed a deep ravine, upon a gigantic viaduct, connecting Albano and Lariccia. This work is one of the most remarkable of its kind — a thousand feet long, two hundred feet high, and consisting of three tiers of arches — : six in the lower tier, twelve in the central, and eighteen in the upper. The ravine below abounds in the most beautiful scenery, and the view to the west is one of absolute enchantment. Lariccia, a much smaller place than Albano, occupies the summit of the hill — the site of the citadel of Aricia, one of the con- federate cities of Latium. The ancient walls are still traceable, and the ruins of a temple are shown, supposed to be that of Diana. Beyond this we crossed two other lofty viaducts, of truly admirable construction — the work of Pio Nono. It must be remembered that this is the way to G-aeta; and travelling it on the top of a diligence in 1849 seems to have suggested to His Holiness the expediency of sundry very expensive improvements; which have since been made, and may be found very comfortable in some VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 125 future emergency. Our road here overlooked the crater of the Vallariccia, four miles in circumference, beyond which we saw Monte G-iove — the site of the ancient Corioli ; and Civita Lavinia — built of large rectangular blocks from the ruins of Lanuvium, which once occupied the same ground. Here we passed a huge black cross by the wayside, indi- cating the spot where a few months before the banditti had attacked the diligence. The driver saw them coming over the brow of a hill, and put his horses to their utmost speed. Several guns were fired, and a ball passed through the car- riage, grazing an Englishman's ear. Another wounded one of the leaders, which, after running a mile farther, dropped dead. The postilions cut him loose before the robbers had time to overtake them ; and all hands reached Albano safe, but in a terrible fright. Our first night was spent at Velletri, a city of twelve thousand inhabitants, situated on the descent of Monte Arternisio, at an elevation of perhaps a thousand feet. A waiter at our hotel, doing his best in French, told us that it contained sixteen million people, and was forty miles above the level of the sea ! Here flourished the Volscian Velitre — one of the ancient enemies of Rome. To rid herself of a troublesome neighbor, Rome demolished the city, and took its inhabitants into her own bosom. This was the reputed birthplace of Augustus, and Suetonius states that in his day the house was still shown in which the emperor first opened his eyes upon his future empire. Here were born Pope Julius the Second, Cardinal Borgia, the antiquary, and the learned prelate Latinus — one of the most eminent men of the thirteenth century, and said by his biographers to be the author of the beautiful hymn — "Dies irse, dies ilia." There is nothing very imposing in the architecture of the city, and the streets are narrow and filthy. Some hard fighting was done here during the Lombard invasion, evi- 126 A YEAR IN EUROPE. dences of which are still visible in the crumbling walls and towers. The hills on the north were the scene of the eventful victory of Charles the Third of Naples over the Austrians in 1744. The women of Velletri are thought to be handsome, and their costume is remarkably graceful and picturesque. This whole region is famous for its fruits, and I know not what could be more beautiful than the vineyards and olive-groves which clothe the surrounding hills. As we left the town, a little boy, who had conducted us the evening before to the albergo, but whom now we failed to recognize, ran some distance beside the vettura, expectant of a huono mano ; and when he saw that we were not going to give him any thing, he began to weep bitterly ; whereupon every one of us threw him a piece of money, which made the little fellow dance for joy. From Velletri the road descends gradually for several miles, till it enters the oak forest of Cisterna. This was formerly a notorious haunt of brigands, affording fine facili- ties for concealment and escape to the neighboring moun- tains. But the trees along the road have lately been cut down, and the way is well guarded by soldiers, posted at convenient distances. On emerging from the forest, we passed some massive ruins, apparently quite ancient ; per- haps the remains of Ulubrse, which was situated somewhere in this vicinity. Cisterna stands upon the last elevation, overlooking the Pontine Marshes — the supposed site of Tres Tabernae — "The Three Taverns" — where Saint Paul met his brethren as he " went toward Rome." The view from this eminence I shall never forget. The majestic mountains on the left, the remoter Mediterranean on the right, the vast expanse of the Pontine Marshes before us, and the isolated Monte Circello beyond, more than thirty miles distant," rising in solitary grandeur over the margin of the sea, with all their interesting associations, classical and scriptural, formed VETTTJRA TO TERRACINA. 127 an imposing picture, which daguerreotyped its impression iniperishably upon my soul. Descending from Cisterna, on a pyramidal hill at the foot of the mountains, we saw the modern Cora, occupying the site of the ancient Cora — one of the oldest cities in Italy, and one of the thirty which united to form the Latin League, five hundred years before Christ. There are many ancient vestiges remaining; and a bridge which has stood entire for more than two thousand years is deemed one of the most remarkable monuments of its kind. A little far- ther on, and near our road, was the village of Norma, so called from the ancient Norbo, which stood upon a loftier ridge of rock beyond it. This was one of the first colonies of the Romans, established as a barrier to the warlike inhab- itants of the mountains. During the civil wars it fell into the hands of Lepidus, the General of Sylla; when the gar- rison, rather than surrender, put the inhabitants to the sword, set fire to the city, and then destroyed themselves. The remains of walls, gates, towers, and temples, consisting of immense blocks, are still identified; with numerous tombs, reservoirs, and subterranean aqueducts hewn in the solid rock. At the margin of the Pontine Marshes, we passed over the site of the ancient Trepontium — the Tripos of the mid- dle ages — now occupied by a solitary post-house, called Torre Tre Ponti. Half a mile beyond this, we crossed the Ninfa, by a Roman bridge, bearing on each parapet inscriptions recording its repair by Trajan. Here begins the Grand Canal of Augustus, which runs in a perfectly straight line through the whole length of the Marshes from north to south; and the road, which still follows the course of the Appian Way, lies along its eastern bank, lined on each side by a triple row of stately elms. For thirty miles there is no variation in the scenery, and the dreary desolation of the 128 A YEAR IN EUROPE. plain defies all description. It is a vast waste, bounded on the west by the sea, and on the east by the Volseian Moun- tains, whose rugged steeps display not a particle of verdure. The whole extent seems to be untilled and untenanted, ex- cept by flocks of wild-fowl and grazing herds of buffalo; and the thin and sallow denizens of the dubious straw huts along the margin, and the occupants of the post-stations, which occur at regular distances upon the road, betoken too evidently the deadly dominion of the malaria. How differ- ent the scene when Horace glided along this same canal on his journey to Brundusium, or when the weary-footed "prisoner of Jesus Christ" walked Romeward over this same Appian Way ! Once, according to Livy, the Volseian Plain was the" chief source of supply to the luxurious Mis- tress of the World ; and according to Pliny, no less than twenty-three cities smiled along its border, or looked proudly down from the adjacent hills. The first attempt to drain this vast swamp is supposed to have been made by Appius Claudius, when he constructed the Appian Way. This, however, is uncertain ; and if he undertook the work, it was, probably, but imperfectly done. But we are assured that this object was effected, in part at least, a hundred and thirty years later, by the Consul Corne- lius Cethegus. Julius Caesar again formed the design of accomplishing the arduous task ; but we have no record of his carrying the purpose into effect. Augustus seems to have executed the plan, and to him is attributed the con- struction of the Grand Canal. Trajan and Nerva each reopened and cleared the old water-courses, and perhaps added others to those which before existed. The last work of this kind, before the downfall of the Roman Empire, was conducted by Cecilius Decius, under the reign of Theodoric the G-oth. Boniface the Eighth, in the thirteenth century, did something of the same sort ; and Martin the Fifth, and Sixtus VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 129 the Fifth, both followed the example. But it was Pius the Sixth who completely restored the Canal of Augustus, and constructed the modern road. The latter is kept in fine con- dition by the present Pope, for there is no telling how soon he may want to travel it again ! It is beautifully macadam- ized ; but in many places the large polygonal stones of the old Appian pavement are still seen. About three miles beyond Torre Tre Ponti, we paused for refreshment at the Foro Appio — the ancient Appii Forum, where Horace embarked in the evening on the Grand Canal, and where a greater than Horace met his Christian friends as he went toward Rome. There is something to me very affecting in the record of this incident in the twenty-eighth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. Appii Forum is about forty-six miles from Rome. The apostle is on his way to that city to give account of himself to the Emperor. Here is a little band of brethren, once pagans, but recently won to the love of Jesus. Among them, perhaps, are a few devout Jews. They have heard of his landing at Puteoli, and have come to cheer him on his way. With such affec- tion from brethren whom he had never seen, no wonder "he thanked God and took courage." I stood upon the little balcony of the humble osteria that now marks the place — perhaps the very ground whereon the parties paused — and gazed along the way, till I imagined I saw that blessed pris- oner approaching from the south, weary with his journey, a chain upon his left wrist, a staff in his right hand, and the soldiers riding on either side ; while from the opposite direc- tion came a score of Christian converts to welcome and com- fort the noblest man that ever wore a chain. I saw them quickening their pace to meet him, heard the tender greet- ing, witnessed the warm embrace, and the tears of love and joy that rolled down every cheek; while the stern soldiers looked on in amazement, and the centurion exclaimed, " See 6* 130 A YEAR IN EUROPE. how these Christians love one another V I beheld them journeying on together till they reached Tres Tabernae, where they are met by another party of the brethren, and a similar scene is enacted. Then I descended into the road, and sauntered along the canal, and gathered the wild flowers that grew upon its margin, and wept for joy, to think that I was actually treading the ground consecrated by one of the most touching incidents in the history of original Chris- tianity. Afterward we sat down to our luncheon, where, per- haps, St. Paul had eaten with his friends; and I also " thanked Grod and took courage." Dear reader, did you ever think how much you owe to that journey of Saint Paul ? He remained at Rome at least two full years, dwelling in his own hired house, and preaching the gospel freely to all who came to hear him. During this time many were converted to Christianity. Some of his converts were of " Caesar's household. " One of them is said to have been a Welsh princess, and others were Britons, then sojourning in Rome. These carried Christian- ity home with them • and lo ! the tree whose fruitful branches now shelter and refresh the nations ! But hark ! it is the call of our vetturino : "Avante, Sig- nore! Monte, monte, Signorina!" In three twinklings of an eye we are seated, and rattling away toward Terracina. And here is Sezza, occupying a conspicuous position upon a mountain — the side of the ancient Setia, the native town of Cuius Valerius Flaccus, the author of the Argonauticon ; and Ptperno, the ancient Privernum, the birthplace of Ca- millas, and famous for its long struggles with Rome; and the Cistercian Monastery of Fossa Nuova, where Thomas Aquinas died, on his way to the Council of Lyons, in the' thirteenth century; and the place where, in the days of Horace, stood the Temple of Feronia, with its grove and fountain, nothing of which now remains but a spring, shaded VET TUB, A TO TERRACINA. 131 by three stunted trees. Here we overtook a man riding upon a donkey, while a woman walked by bis side, witb a cbild in her arms, and a heavy burden on her back ; and when we asked him why he did not let her ride, or relieve her of part of her load, he replied, " 0, she is my wife ! " To half-a- dozen little girls, who ran after the carriage, we threw a number of small coins; but one of them, failing to secure any in the scramble, pursued us with most imploring cries, in the name of " Maria Santissima;" and when she had run about three miles, and we feared she would kill herself, we threw her a mezzo paoh, and she returned to her com- panions molto conten to. What a grand object was Monte Circello, lying there at our right, like a great sea-monster sunning himself upon the shore ! This is the ancient Promontorium Circeum — a per- pendicular mass of limestone, several thousand feet high, five or six miles long, and almost surrounded by the sea, situated ten miles west of Tcrracina, at the southern extrem- ity of the Pontine Marshes. There are traces of masonry upon the summit, supposed to be the remains of a Temple of the Sun — perhaps really of an ancient citadel. There are other ruins upon the western and southern sides of the prom- ontory, one or the other of which must have been the location of the city of Circeii : the scene of the exile of Lepidus, a favorite resort of Cicero and Atticus, and afterward of Tibe- rius and Douiitian. Among the Roman epicures it was famous for its oysters; and those who were fond of the sport came hither to hunt the wild boar. This animal still abounds in the Pontine Marshes, and I have once dined at a Roman trattoria upon its meat. Once, I say; and the first time will be the last, so long as I am able to obtain any other sort of food, except blood-puddings and eels. Terracina was our encampment for the second night. This is the frontier town of the papal dominion, and has about 132 A YEAR IN EUROPE. five thousand inhabitants. It is very picturesquely situated, at the southern extremity of the Pontine Marshes, where the Volscian Mountains project into the sea. As we entered the city, the palm-trees along the hillside, with the gigantic cactus, and the yellow orange and lemon groves, told us that we were approaching a more genial clime. Our hotel was close under the cliff, at the very point of the promontory. Across the way, a detached mass of rock shot up several hundred feet like a tower. It is said to have been formerly inhabited by a hermit, and his cell is still seen about half-way up its side. But how he reached it without the wings of an eagle, it is difficult to imagine. We ascended the mountain, twelve or fifteen hundred feet; passing some remains of Pelasgic walls, and several ruined reservoirs, which we found tenanted by kids. Higher up, and almost inaccessible, are the broken arches of Theodoric's Palace, the lower story of which is almost entire. We reached it with great difficulty; but the toil was well rewarded. The view from the top is one of enchanting beauty; including the Pontine Marshes, with the promontory of Monte ffircello; the Mediterranean, with Ischia, and the Ponzan Islands; Lago di Pondi, sleep- ing calmly in the embrace of the mountains ; G-aeta, and many other towns along the coast; and, last of all, Vesuvius, distinctly visible at the distance of eighty miles. As we descended, the sun went down over the distant sea, kindling the waters into flame, and shedding a gorgeous glory on the rocky summits around us. WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 133 CHAPTER XI. WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. A WILD STORY OF THE ALPS — A TENDER STORY OF MOUNT ANXTJR. I know not whether our inn was the one immortalized by Washington Irving in his "Tales of a Traveller/' where he sat all night telling stories with his friends. It was sufficient for us that it was in the same Terracina ; and that a portion of the same spirit fell upon our party. Having refreshed ourselves with a sumptuous repast, we gathered around the fire in our common sitting-room, and Mr. H. began as follows : "You must know, gentlemen and ladies, that I have been some time travelling in Europe, and am a much older man than I seem to be. Once upon a time — I will not say how long ago, for that would spoil the story — in company with a clever English tourist, I was on my way from Lintz to Was- serburg, and approaching the Bavarian frontier. The road was rough and hilly, and the evening twilight overtook us while we were yet many miles short of our destination for the night. Our horses were jaded, and one of them had lost a shoe, which rendered our progress still more tardy and difficult. "Reaching a small and ugly-looking inn upon the margin of an extensive mountain forest, our driver informed us that it was impracticable to proceed any farther that night, and 134 A YEAR IN EUROPE. that it would be unsafe to make the attempt. We remon- strated, reminded him of his engagement, urged the import- ance to us of its fulfilment, and tried by various arguments to stimulate his courage. Finding all unavailing, we pro- posed, by way of compromise, to stop an hour and a half, that he might feed his horses, and replace the lost shoe, and then go on by moonlight. To this, after much parleying, he reluctantly consented. "Entering the inn, we saw eight or ten rough-looking fel- lows sitting around a large fire, and seated ourselves among them. It was plain to me that my companion did not like their appearance; and, for my own part, I was not altogether void of suspicion. The matter looked still worse when we ascertained that there was no female in the house. Resolv- ing, however, to make the best of it, we called for supper," which was soon -ready for us in an adjoining room. As soon as we had an opportunity, we expressed to each other our apprehensions. My friend proposed that we should call in the landlord, and have a friendly chat with him : with a view to ascertaining, if possible, something of his character. He immediately accepted our invitation, and sat down to drink wine with us; while we scrutinized his features, weighed every word he uttered, and carefully noted every tone and gesture. "We were soon satisfied; we could not possibly be mistaken : his physiognomy, his conversation, his manner, proclaimed him one of the worst of his kind. l( We asked him what meant the shooting we had heard as we approached his house. Perhaps, he said, some of the boys were hunting ; or it may have been some of his men trying their hands at a mark ; one would very often hear shooting in the forest ; occasionally he did something at- it himself; and he thought he might have occasion to practice a little to-night. His manner, more than his words, during these remarks, convinced us that we had not judged him WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 135 too severely. Ho endeavored to persuade us to remain till morning; but we told him we must, if possible, reach Wasserburg that night. When we arose to depart he said : ' Well, gentlemen, if you will go, I wish you a pleasant journey, though I think I shall see you again before you reach Wasserburg/ These words grated on our ears rather harshly; but we smiled as naturally as we could, said we should be happy to have his company, and with affected cordiality bade him good evening. " Less than half an English mile from his door we met a carriage containing six men, who appeared to be officers of the Austrian army. Learning, upon inquiry, that they in- tended to spend the night at the inn, we resolved on remain- ing with them. We informed them at once of our suspicions, and it was soon agreed what policy we had better pursue. So turning about, we drove back, and told the landlord, that having unexpectedly met with this party of friends, we had concluded to stay till morning, and have a jolly time together. At our request he gave us a large upper room. We called for much wine, drank but little, yet made a great deal of noise. We told stories, laughed loudly, sang vociferously, and counterfeited drunkenness to perfection. Some time after midnight we gradually grew quiet, extinguished our candles, and lay down, but not to sleep, though some of the party snored. Through a crack in the floor we could see that the lights were still burning below, that the men we first met around the fire were all there, and that others had been added to the number, though there was not a sound to be heard. Soon there were cautious footsteps on the stairway, and soft whisperings at the door. Then all was quiet again. An hour elapsed, and the footsteps and whisperings were repeated; and lights were seen moving to and fro in the passage. JSTow one of our party, as if awakened from sleep, began talking to his 136 A YEAR IN EUROPE. bedfellow; whereupon the sounds without ceased, the lights were suddenly darkened, and we remained undisturbed till morning. ". Before we parted, our new friends informed us that they were not what we had supposed, but police-officers; that several robberies and murders had lately taken place in the forest ; that this inn had been suspected as the head-quar- ters of a desperate gang; and that they were now here for the purpose of ascertaining, if possible, by observation, the true character of the landlord and his house. They fur- thermore requested us, on our arrival at Wasserburg, to go immediately to the police-office, relate all that we had wit- nessed, and request that more officers should be sent to their assistance. My friend gave them his address, and obtained the promise of a letter in case any thing important should" transpire. About six weeks afterward a letter reached him in Paris, informing him that a secret watch had been set upon that inn, that a very large gang of robbers and murderers had been arrested, that the master of the . house himself proved to be the captain of the band, and was executed with eleven others, while several more were awaiting their trial in prison. " Ladies and gentlemen, my story is no fiction, but a sim- ple narrative of facts as they occurred." Mr. H. having ended, Mrs. C, who occupied the next seat in the circle, took up her parable and said : " Theodoric the Goth had supplanted the unworthy Em- peror of Rome, and all northern Italy had submitted to his sway ; but as he proceeded farther south he was destined to meet resistance from the haughty lords whose castles crowned the heights around Terracina. "At the point which we passed this afternoon, where the Volscian Mountains crowd down upon the sea, until only a narrow passage is left, a desperate battle took place ; and WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 187 the hill-sides now glowing with pomegranate, and orange, and lemon, were then reddened by the blood of warriors. Bravely did the Italians defend the pass ; but the arms of Theodoric were triumphant. Happiness seldom comes unalloyed, and in the moment of victory the conqueror found himself deprived of a friend — a companion in arms, who had fought with him side by side from his youth. Kneeling, he received the last sigh of Rudolph, and pro- mised to become the father to his little girl, Elesif, now truly orphaned, as she had lost her mother at her birth. " The promise so solemnly made by Theodoric he deter- mined to fulfil, and by his kindness to the child to atone for any injustice that he might ever have done the father; for who of us, alas ! is it that can see the heart of a friend grow chill in death, and say, ( I have never planted in that heart a thorn V " The advantages of Terracina as a naval station had made it a place of importance; and here upon the high mountain, overlooking the town, the G-othic lawgiver deter- mined to build him a palace resembling that of Nero, at Rome. A quarry was opened in the side of the mountain, and in the course of time a palace arose, whose present ruins attest its former magnificence. When Theodoric came to take possession of this mansion, there was in his court a young girl of some fifteen summers, whose curls of paly gold shaded a face of exquisite fairness. Her cheek was colored with the softest rose-tint ; and in the depths of her blue eye there was a spirit of meditation and pensive- ness. This was Elesif. She was not sorry to have come to Terracina, for her father lay buried near ; and this was a comfort, though his tongue could no more bless her, nor his eye beam with affection upon her. Hours she spent in gathering wild flowers from the mountains to deck his grave ; then seating herself beside it, she pursued her work in 138 A YEAR IN EUROPE. silence, or in this beautiful solitude surrounded herself with pleasant memories of the departed, and wove them into dreams in the midst of the evening sunshine. " But the mornings of Elesif were more cheerfully em- ployed. As she stood upon the terrace of the castle, a smile stole over her face; while she beheld upon one side the Pon- tine Marshes, almost without habitation, yet glittering with fields of grain ; and at their southern extremity the pro- montory of Circe, seeming an inaccessible island, a fit abode for the ancient enchantress. Upon the other hand, far over the waves, were groups of islands, and in the remoter dis- tance light wreaths of smoke floated from Vesuvius. • " Then the young girl hastened down the mountain, down through the olive-grove, crushing with her bounding step the odor from the wild thyme, and scarcely pausing to pluck a flower until she had reached a high and isolated mass of rock near the sea. This is the rock which we all admired so much this evening, as forming so remarkable a feature in the picturesque scene. Midway up was exca- vated a cell, reached only by a ladder, and inhabited by one weary of the world. He was renowned for his learning and reverenced for his piety. The deep lines that sorrow and disappointment had left upon his face were softened by a smile of resignation, as one has seen a rugged landscape made beautiful by the breath of spring. He had met Elesif in her rambles upon the mountains ; and being inter- ested in her, he became, more by accident than design, her teacher. Every day she went to his cell, and listened, well pleased, to the instructions he gave, or to the wonderful legends he related. " The court of Theodoric left for Yerona, but Elesif re- mained behind with the Lady Julia, who had care of her. Pleasantly did the years glide away. Her cheek grew warmer and her eye brighter beneath a southern sun. WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 139 "One day she had rambled far to gather flowers for her father's grave. Her lap was quite full, and she was about to return, when she espied a bunch of the most lovely 1 forget-me-nots' growing on the verge of a crag that over- hung the sea. She thought she might reach it, and clam- bered up after it, but found the task more difficult than she had supposed. At length, however, she gained a point upon which she knelt; and reaching forward, grasped the flowers. Just then the treacherous soil gave way, and she was precipitated into the sea. She uttered a single wild shriek of alarm, and then gave herself up to death. With the ' forget-me-nots' still clutched in her hand, she folded her arms upon her breast. Scenes of her former life floated over her brain, like summer-clouds driven by the wind. Then she felt herself seized by a strong arm — and she knew no more. " Consciousness came with a feeling of confusion, as if she were awaking from chaos. All things swam before her, mingled in inextricable perplexity; and among other things was a vision" of large brown eyes, and a pale face shadowed by dark hair, bending over her. At the same time she heard a voice, as in a dream, uttering most fervently the words, ' Thank God I' . "In a few moments more she had recollected herself; and opening her eyes the second time, she saw again the same pale face, the same dark hair and eyes, but more distinctly. A young man, whom she had never seen before, knelt beside her, alternately chafing her hands and wringing the water from her fair curls. " She murmured thanks to him, and said feebly : ' I think now I can walk home ;' but in making the attempt to rise, she fell back fainting ; and the young man, without fur- ther ado, took her in his arms, and bore her as far as the cell of the hermit. Here he met some of the retainers of the 140 A YEAR IN EUROPE. castle, to whom he resigned his charge. She was placed upon a litter, and borne to the presence of the surprised and terrified Lady Julia. For some weeks after this she was so much troubled with a cough that she was not permitted to leave the castle. During this time the hermit daily toiled up the steep ascent to learn news of her welfare, and to take her fresh flowers. On these occasions he was unaccom- panied, but a figure might be seen walking with impatient steps along the strand, awaiting his return. No sooner did the old man appear coming down the mountain, than this figure was seen rapidly ascending the mountain to meet him. When they met, his first question always was : c How is she V his second : l Did you give her the flowers V And then, as if to justify his interest, he would say : i Poor thing, she seems so lonely here !' He would then assist the hermit down the hill, and being seated upon the shore, where the waves chased each other to their feet, the young man would take from his bosom a book or manuscript, which they would con together. In these latter days, however, the student had grown absent. After reading a passage, he would often let the book fall beside him, and sit looking at the blue sea with half-closed eyes, his face assuming the expres- sion of one lost in a delicious revery. The hermit usually sighed softly as he thus beheld him, and awaited in silence un- til he would resume his book. But one day he said to him : " ' Of what do you dream, my son V " ' Dream V said the young man, starting from his revery, 1 0, nothing ! that is, nothing of any moment. A mere idle train of thought, suggested, perhaps, by the book.' " ' You are not wont, my son, to indulge in idle thought/ said the hermit; 'your life has been one of study, that your name, made glorious by your ancestors, might not be dishonored in you.' " l Yes/ said the young man, musingly, ' it has been a WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 141 life of study ; but, after all, what can I accomplish ? The power of our family broken, our property confiscated, our name itself falling into oblivion, nothing remains to me but the old tower, in which I seem shut out from glory or hope. And whatever I may achieve, who is to be made the gladder by it ? What heart would rejoice V u ' You may so use your knowledge/ replied the hermit, 1 that many lives may be made gladder, and many hearts rejoice. The rose does not hoard her fragrance, but lavishes it, with her life, upon the air; the bee, with patient skill, extracts the sweets destined for others ; the stars shine un- ceasingly, but not for themselves — their trembling rays guide the mariner to his home; and He who was himself "a man of sorrows/' brought joy to every heart.' "'Yes, Father, I know that, I know that/ rejoined the young man, rather impatiently; 'but the human heart seeks sympathy; it yearns for some other heart to rejoice in its success ; and this longing has been implanted in us by G-od himself — is it not so ?' " ' Yes, my child, yes/ answered the hermit, with a soft sigh ; < but leif us be careful that we ask not sympathy where it would be dangerous for it to be given.' " The young, man understood the allusion, and rejoined, with a sad smile : " ' Fear not ; I ask nothing ; I hope nothing.' "After a few moments' silence the book was resumed, but it had lost its charm : ' In its leaves that day they read no more.' " The student arose and slowly wended his way to a soli- tary and half-ruined tower that stood upon a neighboring mountain. As he walked he muttered to himself: 'Fool, fool that I am ! Why have I permitted that bright creature to mingle with my dark dreams ? What can I ever be to 142 A YEAR IN EUROPE. her, or she to me ? No, I will think of her no more ! I will devote myself with fresh ardor to my studies. I may some day achieve a name that even she will deign to pause and listen when she hears it mentioned — -there, again ! she is ever the end of my thought ! I must conquer myself.' And with this he strode rapidly forward, as if he intended to get out of sight of himself. " That was a day of struggle, as the bird struggles with the tempest, beating the air with its wings without ever ris- ing. Book after book was taken up, manuscript after man- uscript ; but the sentences lost themselves in reveries, and a cloud of golden curls quite obscured the sense. " The next morning he started once more to the cell of the hermit with a fresh bouquet, saying to himself : 'At least it can do no harm to send her the flowers while she is sick ; she receives them as the gifts only of Father Paolo/ But as he approached the cell he saw that bright form, which had become so inextricably intermingled with all his thoughts, coming down the mountain path. In the distance he watched her while she moved as if with invisible wings. He was not sufficiently near to observe the egression of her face, but every motion had the joyousness of an uncaged bird. Once her hair became entangled in an olive branch, and she stopped to disentangle it; then she plucked a spray of pomegranate ; and then again she moved gayly forward. The young man stood as in a trance, and she passed as a vision before him. He saw the hermit go to meet her, and then he turned to wander alone upon the mountain. " The hermit arranged Elesif a comfortable seat upon the shore, and there they sat and conversed rather than studied. Father Paolo expressed his gratitude for her preservation. 11 ' I also/ she rejoined, ' am very thankful that I was saved ; for although I trust I shall not fear to die when it is God's will, yet one shrinks from a sudden and violent end. WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 143 But I must know my earthly deliverer — can you tell me aught of hiin, Father ?" " ' He is a son/ replied the hermit, ' of one of those Italian nobles who made a stand against Theodoric when he came to Terracina. His father was wounded in battle, and borne off by his followers to his own castle. Of the wound, though severe, he might have recovered ; but his chagrin at the defeat of his countrymen was so great that it produced a fever of which he died. That, you know, was many years ago. Since then Cecilio has resided with a single domestic in that solitary tower which you see to the left of the palace, upon that high point above the spot where the Emperor Galba was born. There he resides, and has but little inter- est in any thing save his studies.' "'How kind it was in him to rescue me!' said Elesif; 1 how noble !' " The hermit did not answer, for he knew how dangerous this awakened interest might become: "Weeks passed away without Elesif having again seen Cecilio ; but as she stood one day at the portal of the palace, receiving a dispatch sent her from Theodoric by the young knight Atillio, she descried him through the trees, and exclaimed, ' 0, that is he !' " f Is who ?' said Atillio, who had learned before this to appreciate the charms of the maiden. " ' The stranger,' she answered, l who saved me when I fell into the sea.' " 'A very interesting personage, no doubt/ said Atillio, with a slight sneer. " 'At least his saving me was an interesting fact to myself/ answered Elesif. " ' Yes, and to others/ said the knight, with earnestness. "A few days after this, when Elesif visited the grave of 144 A YEAR IN EUROPE. her father, she found some of the flowers she had planted withering. Remembering a spring that burst from the mountain-side not far distant, she ran to it to procure water for the flowers. As she turned abruptly around a projection of rock which concealed the spring, she found herself stand- ing in the presence of her deliverer, who sat beside the gurgling water, deeply absorbed in a manuscript. He looked up as he heard her approach, and the faces of both were suf- fused with a glow of crimson. 11 She, however, instantly advanced, and holding out her hand to him, said : ' I am most happy to have this oppor- tunity of thanking you for having saved my life.' She would have said more, but, overcome by his earnest gaze, she paused, and her face was once more covered with blushes. " He pressed his lip tremblingly upon her proffered hand, and said, ' Speak no more of it, lady ; it was nothing.' ue Nothing for you, perhaps,' she rejoined, 'but an act that can never be forgotten by me.' After a pause, she added : i I come to get water for my flowers. I suppose this cup which I have made of leaves will hold sufficient.' " ' Hold, lady,' said Cecilio, f I think I can do better;' and taking a cup from his pocket, he filled it with water ; ' per- mit me,' he continued, ' to carry it for you.' " Elesif was confused ; she knew not whether to refuse or to accede to his proposition. In the meantime, he walked beside her, and when they had reached the tomb, he was about to pour the water on the flowers, when she said hastily : " 'No, no, that I must do myself!' " He relinquished the cup to her, and said : " ' I can understand your feelings ; I, too, have lost a father, and I may say on the same mournful occasion.' " ' Then we are alike the children of misfortune,' said Elesif; 'the battle-field is dreadful! Yes,' she resumed, WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 145 after a pause, 'Father Paolo had told rue something of your history ; and that you sometimes study with hini, though I never see you there.' " Cecilio did not reply. He spoke of other matters — of the beautiful country, the soft skies and balmy air of Italy. " ' I suppose, however/ said he, ' that you would be will- ing to exchange all these for your northern home again.' "'0 no/ she answered, 'no; I love my northern home because I was born there, but I scarcely know it. Here is my father's grave, and here would I have my home/ " There was something not unpleasant in these words to the young man's ear. " They continued to talk and stroll along the shore, un- mindful of the time, until the sun had sunk behind the horizon, and Elesif, surprised to see the moonbeams trembling on the water, said : " ' I must hasten home ; the Lady Julia will be anxious.' " They parted, and she hurried to the palace, her heart filled with soft music, and enveloped in the rosy light that comes with the morning of love. " The next day, whether it was by accident I cannot tell, but their lessons at the hermit's clashed, for she had not finished hers before he arrived. "Cupid often approaches warily; but once his rosy fetters about the limbs, he is the veriest tyrant. Every day Cecilio and Elesif met, at the cell of the hermit, or on the mountain, or by the spring, or by the shore. No situation could have been more favorable to love. Separated as each seemed from the world, their souls drew nearer to each other for sympathy. " The hermit saw their growing passion with uneasiness. In secret he remonstrated with Cecilio, and tried once more to arouse his interest in his studies; but all the ardent nature of the Italian had been stirred, and he answered : 7 146 A YEAR IN EUROPE. " ' Father, I would not give one smile of hers for all the lore that was ever learned from books/ e [ ' But ; my son/ said the hermit, ' what will Theodoric, what will the stern Goth say when he comes V " 'I know not; I care not; he cannot prevent my loving her, and that is happiness/ " ' But, my son, is there no happiness but your own to be consulted ? The affections of this young creature being entangled, what will be her fate if Theodoric separate you V " 'Alas, Father, I know not ; our best affections make us selfish. I thought only of myself, and I may bring sorrow to that innocent heart, for which I would gladly sacrifice my life. But perhaps she loves me not ; I will know ; and if her heart is still fetterless, I will leave it free as the young bird; I will make no attempt to ensnare it. I will not darken her bright path by my presence ; I will once more bury myself among my books in my own lonely home.' " The conversation ceased, for the hermit was troubled, and knew not what to say. "... The sun was sinking toward the west. The roselight of evening was tinging the wave and the wood, while Cecilio and Elesif wandered along the shore. A jut- ting crag shut out the view of the palace and of the her- mit's cell. Before them was the sea, and behind them the flowery sides of the mountains. It seemed a little world shut in, fit for innocent and peaceful hearts. " Cecilio felt his pulse beat quicker, as he said to Elesif: ' When will Theodoric with his court return V " ' In twenty days/ she replied, ' they are expected/ " 'And then your present dull life will be exchanged for one of gayety and happiness/ " ' Happiness/ said Elesif, ' does not always go hand in hand with gayety — I prefer quiet/ ''But/ continued Cecilio, 'you will then be surrounded WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 147 by many admiring knights and noble gentlemen ; and then perhaps your quiet life, and he whose happiness it has been to share it, will alike be forgotten.' " She looked up into his face with aft earnest and half- reproachful glance. "'Do you suppose/ she exclaimed, 'that I could be so unworthy, so heartless as to forget him who saved my life ?' " ' I claim no gratitude/ he said, with impetuosity ; ' I deserve none, as I knew not at the time whom I had saved. Nay, lady, if that is the only remembrancer of me, forget me altogether !' "Alternately the blood rushed to the brow of Elesif, and then left it pale as death; the tears were in her eyes as she said, in a low and trembling voice : " ' I shall not forget you.' " i Elesif/ he said, and he breathed the words in a fervent whisper, as he gently placed his arm around her, ' do you love me V " The heart of the young girl fluttered, tbe blood glowed in every part of her neck that was visible through her falling curls, as she bent her head. A moment she was silent, then raising her face, the tear-drops glittering on her burning cheek, her eyes looking up trustingly to his, she answered earnestly : 'As my own life.' " ' G-od bless you, Elesif, bless you for those words !' said the young man, and lifting her curls as if with reverence, he pressed them to his lips. " No other word was spoken. They wandered homeward hand in hand, enjoying that one moment of happiness, which in itself 'Is a life ere it closes, A sole drop of fragrance from thousands of roses.' " Swift and bright-winged were the hours of the twenty days until Theodoric's arrival. The last evening had come, 148 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and all the palace was in preparation. Weary at length of the bustle, Elesif had stolen forth, and was sitting alone beside the spring that ran near her father's grave. Her hands slightly clasped had fallen upon her lap, and her eyes were fixed upon the great waves, as they rushed with their white manes to the shore, and she murmured to herself: ' So do our hopes rush forward but to be broken and scat- tered/ She was thinking of the morrow, and her heart had grown sad. She felt that the life of love and joy which she had led for months must now be interrupted ; that her free- dom, which had been almost unbounded during the absence of the court, must be curtailed; that she could no longer hasten daily with joyous steps to meet her lover, or strolling by his side exchange with him vows of tender and innocent love. Their life had been like the life in Eden, but already the gate seemed opening for their departure. In truth, the heart of Elesif was sad. Suddenly she was startled by feel- ing something fall lightly upon her head — it was a wreath of ' forget-me-nots.' Looking up, she saw the dark, laughing eyes of her lover. He, too, knew that this was the last evening; but the human heart is" wayward, and often laughs at the control of circumstance, as if in anticipation of that time when it shall be beyond the reach of the changes of earth. " ( What,' he said, ' my lady-bird, have I found you at last ? I was beginning to fear that the preparations for Theodoric had detained you, and that I should be disap- pointed in meeting you. See, I have woven you a garland of forget-me-nots, to remind you of our first meeting, when I drew you like another Venus from the sea, and your hand still grasped the flowers for which you had perilled your life.' By this time he had reached her side, and noticed the slight cloud of sorrow which his words had failed entirely to dissipate. Taking her hand, he said, ' But you are sad, Elesif; has any thing disturbed you V ■WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 149 " ' Only the recollection that this is the last evening/ she replied. " ' Too true/ he said ; ( I can no more watch day after day for your footsteps, nor look for that smile which has been to me life — -more, more than life, dear Elesif. All that riches, fame, and power are to other men, you have become to me. To live without you now were impossible. Alas ! what do I say ? What right have I to aspire to your hand ? It has been wrong and selfish in me to strive to en- gage, your affections, and yet what human heart could resist the temptation ? And now Theodoric comes perhaps to tear you from me, to give you to another ' " 'Do not speak of it,' she said; 'I can never be an- other's ; and whatever may be our future, you, Cecilio, will never doubt that my heart is true to you even unto death V u ' Never! never!' he exclaimed; and with mutual vows they parted. " The next day Theodoric arrived, and was delighted to see the growing loveliness of his adopted daughter. He designed to bestow her hand upon Atillio, who, it will be remembered, has been mentioned in these memoirs before. " The meetings of Elesif and the young Italian had not been unobserved, and that evening the story of their love was whispered into the ear of the Groth. His brow slightly darkened, but he replied : 'A passing fancy, which will soon be forgotten.' " The next morning he sent for Elesif, and informed her of the brilliant fate to which he had destined her in uniting her with Atillio. She stood before him with downcast eyes, and face as pale as the marble statues that adorned the room. A shade of vexation passed across the face of Theo- doric, as he exclaimed : " ' What, girl ! hast thou no thanks for this care that I 150 A YEAR IN EUROPE. have taken of thy future, for the brilliant destiny that I have provided thee ? There are few maidens that would not be proud to wed Atillio/ " 'Doubtless/ she answered, with trembling lips, 'it would be for many an enviable station, and any woman might be proud of the homage of his heart; but — I can- not marry him. 7 " ' Thou canst not V replied Theodoric, in a rage ; ' we shall see ! G-o to thy room, thou perverse girl, and dare not leave it until thou art in a better humor, and comest to tell me that thou repentest of thine obstinacy — go V "This was the first of a long series of trials to Elesif. In her chamber she wept, as the young heart weeps when it first finds itself in the embrace of sorrow. The thought of Oecilio became consecrated by tears and prayers. She did not care to mingle in the gayeties of the court; she did not dare to take her accustomed strolls, or even to venture so far as the cell of the hermit. " In the meantime Cecilio wandered about the mountain constantly, in sight of the palace ; hoping vainly, from day to day, to catch a glimpse of her he loved. She came not. A feverish anxiety devoured him. He applied to the her- mit; but he could tell him nothing of her. Sleep fled from his eyes. In the night-time he took his lute, and, going beneath her window, he poured forth his soul in strains of the saddest music. Elesif recognized the sounds. She stood trembling. She feared to open her window, lest she should be heard ; yet her heart could not permit him to leave without some token. She took a rose from a vase of flowers, and had quietly opened the window, when she heard the sound of voices as in strife — a struggle — the j airing, discordant sound of the lute, as if it had suddenly fallen to the ground, and then all was silent. Her heart stood still in terror. Falling upon her knees, she poured forth her WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE, 151 soul in supplication for the safety of her lover; then rising, she threw herself upon her couch, but not to sleep, for her heart was filled with the most cruel anxieties. " The next day she received orders from Theodoric to prepare for a high festival that was to be held that night in the palace. She dared not disobey. The evening came, and the rooms flashed with a thousand lamps. All was joy- ous, all but the heart of Elesif. As she appeared in simple white robes, with the blue forget-me-nots twined amidst her hair, and her cheek glowing with the fever-flush of anxiety, a murmur of admiration ran through the assembly. Atillio was ever by her side, heightening her distress by his atten- tions. " Finding themselves at length amid the fragrant gardens of the palace, separated from the crowd, he spoke to her more tenderly than he had hitherto done : he told her of his love and of his hopes. " i In mercy, speak not of it,' she said, ' my soul is already tortured beyond endurance/ Then, seeing his look of surprise, she added, 'Pardon me! you are noble and good ! too noble, too good, not to deserve the whole affec- tion of one whom you would wed. Should I consent to marry you, I should be doing you a gross injustice, for my heart has already been given beyond recall. It has been a fatal gift, I fear, and has already brought pain and misfortune to the possessor.' The feelings of her heart would not be repressed. She told him artlessly and fearlessly the story of her love. She told him the events of the last night, and of her fears, not the less terrible because they were unde- fined. The generosity of the young man justified her trust. ' Lady,' he said, l you shall never be persecuted upon my account. I will learn what tidings I can of your lover; and, though my love must be hopeless, it will ever be my happi- ness to serve you.' These words were sadly spoken, and 152 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Elesif wept afresh, as it appeared that she was destined to give pain to every one aronnd her. " From that evening Theodoric no longer confined her to her own room, nor spoke to her of Atillio. She was per- mitted to wander freely as hitherto ; but nowhere did she find any trace of her lover. The bloom fled from her cheek, and the light from her eye. Her only consolation was to visit the hermit and listen to his counsel. He could tell her nothing of her lover ; but he had himself known sorrow, and his sympathy lulled the poignancy of her grief. She came no more with the blithe, bounding step of former days, for her body seemed to partake of the weariness of- her soul. " Even Theodoric noticed how she was fading, and his heart smote him as he thought of her father. In this melancholy way three months had passed, when Theodoric was alarmed by the news that his enemies were ravaging the more southern portions of his dominions. He determined to go forth and meet them ; but at the same time he wished to place his palace in a complete state of defence. It was unprovided with water sufficient to serve any great number of troops. Theodoric was sorely perplexed how to have it conveyed to that height. He offered a large reward to any one who would supply the want. Atillio had learned, after many inquiries, that Cecilio was held a fast prisoner in the dungeons of the castle; he had learned also from Father Paolo that he was skilled in science, and it occurred to him that this might be an opportunity for his liberation. He mentioned to Theodoric that a young Italian had inhabited the neighboring tower, who, if he could be found, might assist them in the difficulty. Theodoric immediately ordered Cecilio to his presence, and offered him his liberty on condition that he would supply the palace with water. Cecilio immediately undertook it. Reservoirs, in the re- WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 153 mains of which we saw the young kids this afternoon, were constructed, water was conveyed into the palace, and the young Italian was orowned with favors. "Where or how the lovers met, our chronicle does not say, but the light soon came back to the eye of Elesif, and her step was as buoyant as ever. Some days of anxiety she was yet destined to experience, for her lover went forth to battle ; but for this she was repaid when he returned vic- torious, and when Theodoric placed her hand in that of Cecilio, saying, c Pardon the pain I have given you ; your own heart was your best counsellor; for in my dominions there is not a nobler heart nor a braver spirit than his whom you have chosen.' " There was mirth and revelry at the palace — trains of noble lords and gay clames ; wine, and fruits, and flowers decked the feast. The altar in the chapel was wreathed with roses, and Cecilio and Elesif stood before it, and received the blessing of the hermit. Many years of happi- ness remained to them. Under the direction of Cecilio the Pontine Marshes were drained, and the Appian Way repaired — works which Theodoric thought worthy to commemorate on tablets of stone." But telling stories at Terracina is not getting on toward Naples ; and should I undertake to report all that were im- provised on this occasion, I fear the reader would fall asleep over the record, as I did during the entertainment ; and one, at least, of the remaining improvisitori would suffer no small disparagement in comparison with the preceding speci- mens. It was something past midnight when we "Wrapped the drapery of our couch About us, and lay down- to pleasant dreams." 7* 154 A YEAR IN EUROPE CHAPTER XII. JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. WAYSIDE GLIMPSES — FONDI — ITRI CICERO'S TOMB AND FORMIAN VILLA EXTENSIVE PROSPECT GAETA WATER-NYMPHS VALLEY OF THE LIRIS SANT' AGATA SESSA CAPUA AVERSA NAPLES HIS- TORY — POPULATION — TRADE — FORTIFICATIONS. Leaving this romantic town, the road for some distance is overhung by the mountain on the left, and washed by the Mediterranean on the right. In this narrow passage, the Romans encountered the Saninites, three hundred and fifteen years before Christ. In the second Punic War it was the stronghold of Fabius Maximus, who successfully disputed the pass with Hannibal. The cliffs are full of sepulchral excavations, and mouldering tombs and towers everywhere speak of departed glory. Then the road strikes inland, between the mountains and the Lago di Pondi, instead of following the sinuosities of the shore. Upon the mountains we saw the Convent of the Passionists, on the site of the villa where the Emperor G-alba was born ; and in the plain across the lake once stood the ancient city of Amycla3, which, according to Pliny and Servius, was depopulated by swarms of serpents. Passing these, and the picturesque town of Monticello beyond, we ascended a beautiful valley, full of vineyards, and famous for its wines. As we drew near to Pondi, nine miles from Terracina, the groves of lemons and JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 155 oranges constituted a very beautiful sight. The town itself is a more miserable place than an untravelled American can imagine, and from time immemorial has had the reputation of being a nest of banditti. It boasts a population of nearly six thousand souls, and a more beggarly and suspi- cious-looking set of inhabitants I am sure it would be diffi- cult to find. Anciently it bore a better character ; for the family of Livia, the wife of Augustus, was originally of Fondi. Some of the polygonal wall is still seen at the gate by which we entered the city, and a portion of the Appian pavement remains in the principal street by which we passed through it. Here too is the old Dominican convent in which Thomas Aquinas taught theology five hundred years ago, an orange tree which he is said to have planted with his own hands, and a well which yet bears his name. There is a pretty story told of the beautiful Countess G-onzaga, who dwelt here in the sixteenth century, whom the pirate Bar- barossa attempted to seize and carry off as a present to the Turkish Sultan ; but the lady fled naked at midnight from the castle, and eluded her pursuer among the mountains ; where- upon Barbarossa, disappointed of his prize, sacked and destroyed the town ; and pity it is, I cannot help thinking, that it was ever rebuilt ! In Fondi 'we halted an hour; during which our horses were cruelly branded on the side, for what purpose I did nob learn ; and two more were added to the number, so that we had six to draw us up the mountain, through the dreary pass of Itri. This defile was formerly the much-dreaded haunt of banditti ; and even now, it is not altogether secure for the lonely traveller. Here, in the sixteenth century, Marco Sciarra had his headquarters. This notorious brigand, learn- ing that Tasso was to pass this way, sent to offer him a safe passage, and assure him of his protection. The wild and desolate scenery of the mountains on either hand, independ- 156 A YEAR IN EUROPE. eiit of the reputation of the place, is sufficient to justify the worst apprehensions of the traveller. Itri, seven miles from Fondi, is nearly as despicable in appearance, and glories in a still more infamous history. This was the birth- place of the notorious brigand Fra Diavolo — so called from his constant elusion of his pursuers, while he was robbing and murdering all who came in his way; on account of which it was supposed that he was favored with the special aid and friendship of his satanic majesty. Itri and Fondi have contributed more heroes to the lists of banditti than any other two towns in Italy, and each still quarrels with the other for the fame of preeminence in this production. As we passed through the place at a smart trot, a number of lit- tle boys ran along by the side of the vettura, singing a sort of chorus to a not unmelodious air, the twofold burden of which seemed to be a eulogy of Miss P.'s beauty and a peti- tion for alms : " Signorina grazziosa, Date mi qualche cosa." Descending from Itri, the road follows a narrow valley, the hills on either side of which are terraced, and covered with vineyards and olive-groves. A pleasant ride of six or seven miles brought us to the tomb of Cicero — a lofty round tower upon a square base, occupying, according to tradition, the very spot where the executioners overtook the orator, a*s he was escaping in a litter to the seashore, and cut off the noblest head that ever sat on Roman shoulders. We spent a couple of hours at the albergo just beyond, which is called by his name, and said to stand on the site of his beautiful Formian Villa. The grounds around the hotel are full of orange and lemon trees; and, only think of it, classical reader, we feasted on fruit which grew in Cicero's garden ! Scattered here and there, we saw masses of reticulated masonry — probably the remains of Cicero's baths. This wis JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 157 the orator's favorite residence, the scene of his political conferences with Pompey, and the calm retreat where he enjoyed the society of Scipio and Lelius. It was near this that Horace lodged at the house of Murena ; and the whole coast, for a considerable distance in both directions, is lined with the remains of Soman villas. The view from the ter- race of the albergo is one of great beanty, even independently of its classical associations. To the north is the dark -brown mass of bare and rugged mountains. To the east are smil- ing valleys, clothed with perpetual verdure, and clotted with towns and villages. Far to the southeast stands Vesuvius, with his crown of vapor, and the mountains that half encir- cle the bay of Naples. A little farther to the right is seen the blue outline of Ischia and Procida — two vast vol- canic heaps thrown up from the bed of the sea. Next comes the island of San Stefano, where the state criminals are incarcerated ; and near it, Yentotene — the ancient Pan- dataria, to which Augustus banished his dissolute daughter Julia, and where Agrippina and Octavia both perished in exile. Still nearer is Pontia — now called Ponza, the brilliant feat of whose capture by Sir Charles Napier won for him the title of the Count of Ponza; where Nero, the son of G-er- manicus, died by his own hand; and where many of the early Christians, under Tiberius and Caligula, suffered for their faith. Not far from this are seen Palmarola — the ancient Palmaria, and Zannone — the ancient Sinonia. And there, three or four miles to the west, completing the circle, stand the town and castle of Gaeta, on a projecting hill, extending some distance into the sea, and connected by a low and narrow isthmus to the mainland. This is a place of great strength — the key-fortress to the Neapolitan kingdom. It survived the invasions of the Lombards and the Saracens, and maintained its liberty till the thirteenth century; when, 158 A YEAR IN EUROPE. with, the other free cities of Southern Italy, it was absorbed in the Norman conquest. In later times it has been strongly fortified, and again and again has withstood the shock of war. Hither fled the present Vicar of the Most High, when the Roman dirk threatened his bastard divinity. Here lies sepulchred the Constable de Bourbon, who was_ killed in the capture of Rome in 1527. Mola di G-aeta is a smaller town on the opposite or eastern side of Cicero's Villa, lying along the seashore at the foot of the mountains. Our road passing directly through it, we walked forward, and awaited our vettura beyond. As we left the town, we crossed a rapid mountain stream, in which stood some fifteen or twenty women, with cart-loads of soiled linen, pounding and splashing as if for life, and chatting, and laughing, and singing, in the merriest mood imaginable. • Here the modern post-road runs inland, up the broad valley of the Grarigliano — the ancient river Liris — leaving the Via Appia, which follows the seashore to Pozzuoli. At a little distance to the right we saw the village of Mondragone, on the site of Sinnessa — memorable in the journey of Horace, who there met Virgil and his other friends. "We passed close by all that remains of Minturna — the mouldering amphitheatre, a few half-buried substructions, and a long line of aqueduct arches — many of them still entire — stretching across the plain ; and on a hill two miles to the left stood the town" of Traotte, built from the ruins of the ancient city. We crossed the river on a fine suspension bridge, near where Marius concealed himself among the rushes from the pursuit of Sylla; and near the scene of the memorable battle of December 27, 1503; in which G-onsalvo the Spaniard put the French army to Sight, and made himself master of the kingdom. The road follows the sinuous course of the stream for several miles; and then, quitting it, aud climbing the JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 159 lower slopes of the mountains, winds about in a curious manner, among beautiful wheat fields and olive plantations, till it reaches Sant' Agata, where we spent our third night. Arriving here early in the afternoon, we walked over the lofty viaduct to Sessa, the gate of which is less than a mile from our albergo, and took a view of the town. It stands on the site of the ancient Suessa Arunca; and contains about eighteen thousand people — as miserable a herd, I be- lieve, as can be found in any city on earth. Many ancient remains are found here — the ruins of a fine bridge and a large amphitheatre — vaulted reservoirs, and polygonal pave- ments ; and in the volcanic rock beneath are vast excavations, with painted chambers, similar to those of the old Etruscan cities. While looking about we were beset with crowds of beggars, whose clamor was so annoying that we cut short our excursion, and returned to the hotel. The mountains in this neighborhood all indicate former volcanic action; and the hills of Kocca Monfina, at a little distance, are full of extinct craters. A circle of detached elevations, which seems to have formed the outer edge of one of these, encloses an area nine miles in circumference; and within this space are two cones, one of which is thirty-two hundred feet high. Early the next morning we were again en route for Na- ples, passing through that rich and beautiful region so much praised by the Latin poets for its Falernian wine, and about noon reaching the memorable Capua, where we paused for refreshment. The city stands in a curve of the Volturno, which nearly surrounds it, flowing with as rapid a current now as in the classic days of old. We entered by a gate in a formidable wall, enclosed by a double fosso, with draw- bridges. In case of necessity, the fosso can be filled with water from the river; and all external communication, except by ball and bombshell, effectually cut off. The city has about ten thousand inhabitants, and is one of the most 160 A YEAR IN EUROPE. important military stations in the kingdom. Ancient Capua is two miles nearer Naples, where its ruins are still to be seen, with its beautiful amphitheatre. In the year of our Lord 1501, this town was taken and sacked by Caesar Bor- gia, when five thousand of the inhabitants perished by the treacherous cruelty of the conqueror. From Capua to Naples is sixteen miles. The whole dis- tance is one continuous vineyard, and produces the choicest Falernian. The vines are supported by trees, and grow to the height of forty or fifty feet. The fertility of this region is wonderful, and not exceeded by any part of Eu- rope. The country is perfectly level, and the trees and vines, like a perpetual forest, shut in the view, so that nothing is seen except what is immediately on the road. About half-way between Capua and Naples is Aversa,- containing eighteen thousand inhabitants ; but for the rea- son just mentioned we saw nothing of it, except the gate as we approached, and the street through which we passed, and which was very much like those of other Italian cities — narrow, dirty, full of priests and donkeys, monks and sol- diers, police-officers and pickpockets, noisy facchini and lousy lazzaroni. There is one thing here worth mentioning — a famous lunatic asylum, established by Murat, and affording convenience for five hundred patients. It was here, I think, that we saw an interesting work of art — a pictorial admonition for brigands, painted on the out- side wall of a little chapel by the wayside, for the profit of all who pass. A gang of robbers, who had committed some great atrocities, having been taken, were executed upon this spot; and here they are, in hell, the flames curling around them, and long-tailed devils tossing them about with pitch- forks. Soon after leaving Aversa it was very evident that we were drawing near to Naples. The way was thronged with JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 161 people of all descriptions, on foot, on horseback, on oxback, on assback, and in all sorts of vehicles. We frequently met a mule carrying three men ; or a donkey, not larger than a good-sized Newfoundland dog, bestridden by half a dozen boys; or a rickety, two-wheeled nondescript, drawn by a single horse, and containing from ten to fifteen persons — ■ some sitting, some standing, some hanging on behind, and others suspended by hands and feet from the axle-tree. It was quite surprising, after having travelled half a day through a region perfectly flat, to find ourselves suddenly on the brow of a hill, with the beautiful Napoli far beneath us. And there sat the imperial Vesuvius, like a Turkish sultan smoking his pipe, upon his vast carpet of green fields and vineyards, adorned with a hundred towns and villages, and walled in with mountains of amethyst and jasper, and the bay at his feet like a monarch's bowl at a feast. The road descends, by a deep cutting, through the sub- urban San Griovanniello, to the gate of the city. Here our passports were taken from us, and certificates furnished us instead ; and by the payment of a fee to the custom-house officials, our baggage was exempted from examination. This was the policy observed throughout the entire route ; and, indeed, if one has plenty of carlini, he can travel all over the kingdom and never unlock his trunks. As faithful ser- vants of the government, is it not the duty of these officials to make as many piasti'es as possible out of the forestieri ? Is not this the purpose for which they are posted at their several stations along the road ? At any rate, they invaria- : bly proposed, for a consideration, to pass our baggage un- opened ; and their profit, of course, was our preference, since by this method we saved both time and temper. The first thing that strikes the stranger, on arriving in Naples from Rome, is the dissimilarity of the two cities. They say: "Naples for beauty, Home for sanctity." It 162 A YEAR IN EUROPE. may reasonably be questioned whether this is the true point of contrast; or if the true, I doubt if it is the chief. Naples is certainly a very beautiful city, and the Stracla Toledo is pronounced " the finest two-mile street in Europe;" but the beauty of Naples consists mainly in its situation and environments, which can- not be surpassed without the gates of Paradise. Its climate also is milder than that of Rome, and tropical flowers and fruits are abundant, and the ladies sit uncovered in their balconies, and all sorts of artisans are plying their various handicrafts in the streets. The Eternal City looks as if it were just going into an eternal sleep, and the peo- ple are as indolent and stupid as the pope ; but Naples is brisk with business, and its stir and hum constantly remind an American of New York or New Orleans, though the mul- titude perhaps are more intent on pleasure than profit. Its population is twice as large as that of Rome, many living entirely in the open air; and large districts through which we passed seemed crowded almost to suffocation. Naples is the ancient Neapolis. It was originally a Greek city. Four hundred and twenty-seven years before Christ it confederated with the Samnites against the Romans. The latter soon triumphed, but the conquering eagle spread his protecting wings over the conquered. Under the fostering care of the Republic, the city rose rapidly in prosperity and importance. But her strong attachment to the Roman in- terest excited the resentment of Hannibal, who ravaged her territory with more than his usual ferocity. After this it enjoyed a long period of tranquillity, still retaining its ori- ginal language, with most of its ancient laws. The unrival- led fertility of its soil, the incomparable beauty of its coast, and the balmy mildness of its winter climate, drew hither the luxurious Romans; and poets and orators, consuls and emperors, adorned its romantic scenery with their villas. JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 163 Virgil and Horace sang in its groves; Pliny and Cicero so- journed upon its shores; here "Lucullus dined with Lcrcul- lus," and Augustus swept along with his magnificent array ; here Tiberius enacted the beast, and Nero and Caligula played the madman and the fiend. i During the reign of Titus, in the year seventy-nine of the Christian era, occurred the first serious interruption to the prosperity of the city — the first recorded eruption of Mount Vesuvius, terrifying its inhabitants, demolishing its palaces, and desolating its coasts. Then, for a series of centuries, with the rest of Italy, it was wasted by civil wars and bar- barian incursions. It was taken by Theodoric the Goth, but restored by Belisarius to the Grecian empire. It was har- assed and plundered successively by the Lombards, the Saracens, and the Normans; who, in their turn, became the prey of the Germans, the French, and the Spaniards. The latter remained its acknowledged masters, governed it by viceroys for many years, and at last gave it a king. Of all these different tribes many traces may be discovered in the manners, the customs, and the dialect of its people. Pro- bably the Latin was never its popular language ; and there are more Greek words in its present Italian than in that of any other city, of the peninsula. The Prench also has affected its pronunciation, and the Saracenic has left its alloy. No vestiges remain of the ancient magnificence of Nea- polis. Her temples, palaces, theatres, and basilicas, de- spoiled by the barbarian conqueror, have been shattered by the sledge of Vulcan, and Neptune has covered their frag- ments with his waves. Her modern edifices are less remark- able for their taste and elegance, than for their wealth and magnitude. Her population, however, is undoubtedly greater now than at any former period ; perhaps also her opulence, her industry, and her general prosperity. True, 1G-JL A YEAE IN EUROPE. never was there a greater swarm of soldiers in Naples dur- ing a season of peace; and never, perchance, were they more essential to the royal safety and the popular quiet. At the same time, never was there so great an influx of tourists and transient sojourners; while, as I am told — Heaven grant it may be true ! — the class of lazzaroni is constantly decreasing, and likely soon to be unknown. Containing within her walls nearly half a million of people, her suburban towns and villages number not less than a hun- dred thousand more. The third city of Europe — the queen of the Mediterranean — she sits enthroned in beauty upon the border of the bay, with all her maids of honor beside her; and Vesuvius, her royal spouse, with his crown of fire, overlooking the array. From the deck of a steamer, or from the distant heights of Sorrento, the whole assumes the appearance of a continuous city, stretching in a semicircle eighteen miles along the shore, from the Punta di Posilipo on the left, to Torre del Annonziata on the right. Of the many thousands that eat their daily maccaroni within the gates of this fair metropolis, though pretending to love their native city to distraction, where is the man that would lift his little finger for her benefit ? Her artisans are snails; her tradesmen are greedy jobbers; her soldiers are servile hirelings ; her nobles, such as have not yet taken to street-begging, care for nothing but the table and the thea- tre ; the king himself is the greatest gambler in the world, and derives his largest revenue from the lottery; while his subjects, of both sexes and all classes, live, move, and have their being in its hazards and its hopes. The most independent class of citizens are the lazzaroni. See that specimen yonder, with head, and neck, and bosom bare, toasting himself upon the glowing pavement. What cares he for yesterday, or what for to-morrow ? His aban- don is perfect. With a wit proverbial, a temper invariable, JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 165 and a patience inexhaustible, he unites the art of an impro- visitore, the tact of a diplomatist, and the grace of an Apollo. All this is indigenous with him : if he ever stoops to the drudgery of what Coleridge calls " originating an idea," it is in the way of pondering a lucky number for the lottery. ! The morning after our arrival I saw a woman lying upon the naked stones, in front of the theatre of San Carlo, with four ragged little children around her, and she was weeping amain. I threw her a few carlini, and passed on. When I returned, an hour afterward, she was sitting erect, and play- ing with the children; but as soon as she saw a forestiero ap- proaching, she threw herself flat upon her face, and " lifted up her voice and wept." Subsequently I met with her often, and in various places; and she was generally lying upon the ground, and howling as loud as she could. Not understanding how she managed to maintain such constant intensity of grief, I one day asked our cicerone about it. He replied: " 0, that is her business; she weeps for her maccaroni ; she will never cease weeping till the forestieri depart I" Without the regularity of what we call a market, certain districts here have a traffic peculiar to themselves. If you would see oranges, step down to the quay when the boats from Sorrento are unloading. If you like oysters, go along the street next the bay toward the Villa Reale. There is a place near the heart of the city where you may purchase almost any thing that ever breathed the ocean brine. There you will see the delicate little sardine, fresh from its watery home ; the skait and the sole, with eyes in the wrong place, and mouth all askew; beautiful creatures of all colors, pink and purple, green and yellow, blue and scarlet, all intermin- gled and changeable ; great crawling masses of nondescript pulp — half-animal, half-vegetable — contracting and expand- 166 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ing like living jellies; huge eels — the real progeny of the sea-serpent — squirming and writhing in their tubs, in antici- pation of the frying-pan; little transparent monstrosities, all head; and ninetieth cousins of the crab and the lobster, all claw. You will find any desirable number of glove- stores in the JStrada Toledo, and the article in Naples is equal to any you get in Paris, and cheaper than in any other city in Europe. You should walk the whole length of this fine street, and you will be astonished at the amount of mercantile business in sundry departments. Of belle arti shops there is no lack in Naples. Who under the sun buys all these imitative wares, to say nothing of antiques — real or supposed — lava ornaments from Vesuvius, and coral trinkets from the sea? In this rainbow-tinted climate, everybody is a painter, but every painter is not an artist, and most of the pictures are copies, and most of the copies are caricatures. But he who has seen only the Toledo, and the broad streets and beautiful open spaces along the margin of the bay, knows nothing yet of Naples. He must dive into the populous centre, and thread the narrow lanes and alleys, where two-thirds of its people dwell in their dark and filthy dens. I had wondered how it was possible that nearly five hundred thousand human souls embodied should live within an area only some two miles wide and five miles long, till one day I accidentally wandered into the locality to which I now allude. It is impossible to describe the scene which I there beheld — streets without sidewalks, scarcely wide enough for a cart; buildings so lofty as entirely to shut out the sun, and almost the daylight; and these literally crammed, from cellar to garret, with a miscellaneous and miserable population. Thousands also seem to live altoge- ther in the streets — if that is the appropriate name for such dismal ditches — and thousands in the open air carry on their JOURNEY RESUMED AND EINI&iHED. 167 various handicrafts. The cobbler, the tinker, the bootblack, the blacksmith, the carpenter, and even the public cook, pitch their industrial apparatus against the wall, reckless of hoof and wheel, and work away as if the city were their shop. In other localities, frequented by such as read and shave, you will see bookstores and barber-shops apparently doing a brisk out-door business ; and the mantuamaker and merchant-tailor arrange their respective assortments along the . swarming avenues ; and here are drygoods and groceries, hardware and cutlery, and all imaginable vendi- bles except cleanliness and virtue. Even water for drink- ing is publicly sold in the streets, carried about in earthen jars, and dispensed at the corners for a grano a glass. Half the people one meets with here are soldiers. You see a company or two march by your hotel every hour; and from sunrise to sunset, there is scarcely a moment when you may not hear the sound of trumpet and drum. The castles that guard the harbor command the city too; and their bas- tions are bristling with cannon, pointing down into the streets and squares ; and armed sentinels are pacing the walls, and clustering at the corners, and crossing their bayonets at every portal. Sant' Elmo stands upon a conical hill, over- looking every thing; and an enemy in possession of it, though an enemy would have something to do to get there, might demolish Naples in a few hours. The Ovo and the Nuovo could sweep the harbor, and make the bay in front of them a hot place for a hostile fleet. Every guard-house has its row of mounted guns ; and the royal residence looks doubly formidable, with its dark array of iron muzzles. I never saw another city so earnestly watched over, and so evidently ready, at a moment's warning, for an outbreak of the people. All is quiet now, but there have been recent mutterings underground, and there is no telling how soon the smothered fires may burst forth. Where is Masaniello ? 168 A TEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER XIII. NAPOLI LA BELLA. ENVIRONS VILLA REALE CHIESE DE PARTU POETRY A PICTURE BURYING IN CHURCHES — 'GROTTA DI POSILIPO TOMB OF VIRGIL THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OP ST. PAUL OTHER CHURCHES ROYAL PALACE CAPODIMONTE THE CAMALDOLI. Deep bosomed in the still and quiet bay, The sea reflecting all that glows above";. Till a new sky, more soft, but not so gay, Arched in its bosom, trembles like a dove. The situation of Naples is one of unrivalled beauty. Whoever would look upon the grandest of terrestrial pano- ramas, should climb up to the citadel of Sant' Elmo, or ascend the lofty ridge of Posilipo. There he will see at his feet, lying in a semicircle along the margin of the most beautiful bay in the world, a city as fair as a pearly shell just cast up by the purple wave. To the east he will see Vesuvius, ris- ing in imperial majesty from the level Campagna — nature's great altar, smoking with perpetual sacrifice. At its base are four populous towns, sitting as gayly upon the shore as if Herculancum did not slumber in her lava tomb beneath, or the excavated palaces and temples of Pompeii continually rebuke their temerity. At its southern sido flows the Sarno, NAPOLI LA BELLA. 169 through, a valley brown with vineyards and bright with vil- lages ; while the Apennines in the background stretch away to the right and the left, " all glowing of gold and amethyst." Farther southward the Sorrentine Promontory runs far out into the sea, its dark side studded with five gemlike cities, and the three-pointed Sant' Angelo shooting boldly up five thou- sand feet above the waters which lave its base. Still turning westward, the eye rests upon the broad expanse of azure, where the bay opens out into the Mediterranean ; with Capri on the one hand, and Ischia on the other, lifting their rocky battlements three thousand feet toward the sky, like two great marteilo towers, reared by nature, on opposite sides of a channel fourteen miles in width, to guard the entrance to her loveliest domain. Naples is a city difficult to describe. The Italians call it betta, and certainly there is about it something of strange and wondrous fascination. The grounds of the Villa Reale are delightful, with open walks and umbrageous avenues, and the fresh breeze from the wave which breaks just below the terrace. In the main promenade you see the enormous granite bowl from Pestum, supported by modern lions. And here are busts and statues — saints and sages, poets and ora- tors, heroes and emperors — for those who love to look at such things. But let us pass on to the MergiUina, where the tide of life ebbs away. Haste, or that pernicious musician will craze you with his bagpipe. I myself narrowly escaped with my hearing the other day, when one of them walked along by my side, blowing most dissonantly in my ear; and, when I quickened my pace, he quickened his ; and the more I cried Non c'e niente, the more lustily he blew. Those half-clad urchins, groping among the slippery rocks for crabs and sea-horses, seem brothers to the gulls that soar and swoop so familiarly about them. Every one of the little ras- cals can dive like a dolphin ; and even now that roguish eye 8 170 A YEAR IN EUROPE. is watching to see if you will not cast a carlino into the thundering surf. The fishermen yonder are noble, stalwart fellows, the honest expression of whose swarthy countenances gives them an appearance of decided superiority to the mass of lower-class Neapolitans. Let us proceed. Here is a church, which, though a little one, is one of the most interesting in Naples. It was built by the poet Sannazarius, on the site of his favorite Villa Mergillina, which had previously been destroyed by the Prince of Orange, who commanded the garrison during the famous siege of Naples by the French. Its builder dedicated it to the Virgin, and called it De Partu, endowed it richly, and sung its charms in true Virgilian verse. The poem with which its name is chiefly associated is deemed one of the most beautiful that has appeared in the Latin language since the revival of letters. Thus it opens : " The virgin-born, coeval with his sire, Who left the mansions of celestial bliss, To wash away from fainting man the stain Of sin original, and opened wide The long-obstructed way to light and heaven — Be he my earliest theme! with him, my Muse, Begin ! Ye Powers above, if naught forbid My pious task, unfold the hidden cause, And all the progress of a scheme so great!" Then follows a magnificent appeal to the Virgin : "Celestial Queen! Thou on whom men below and saints above Their hopes repose ! on whom the bannered hosts Of heaven attend — ten thousand squadrons armed, Ten thousand cars self-moved — the clarion shrill — The trumpet's voice — while round in martial pomp, Orb within orb, the thronging seraphs wheel! If on thy fane, of snow-white marble reared, I offer yearly garlands; — if I raise NAPOLI LA BELLA. 171 Enduring altars in the hollowed rock, Where Mergillina, lifting her tall head, A sea-mark to the passing sailor's eye; — If, with due reverence to thy name, I pay The solemn rites, the sacrificial pomp, When each returning year we celebrate The wondrous mystery of the birth divine ; — Do thou assist the feeble bard, unused # To tasks so great, and wand'ring on his way, Guide thou my efforts, and inspire my song !" Whether the " Celestial Queen" heard and answered the prayer of the " bard/' I will not presume to say. Certainly she would have done so, if capable of any thing like gratitude; for never before was woman invested with so magnificent an array — not even Beatrice by her adoring Dante ! He appears, at least, to have obtained help from some quarter; for, beyond all question, he sings very sweetly. But what of the church? Well, it is neither spacious, nor splendid, nor pretty ; but it is most poetically situated, as the poet intimates in the foregoing verses, on the side of the hill which slopes gently toward the bay, not far from the tomb of Virgil, and the poet himself sleeps within its walls. His resting-place is adorned with statues and basi relievi, representing, among other things, pagan divinities, satyrs, and nymphs — not very suitable ornaments for a Christian sanctuary; but the fathers of the convent connected with the church have ingeniously obviated the incongruity, by inscribing the statue of Apollo with the name of David, and that of Minerva with the name of Judith — an expedient which has often been resorted to, I believe, in Borne; and certainly quite as consistent as christening a bronze statue of old heathen Jupiter after " the prince of the apostles," and requiring the whole Catholic creation to come and kiss his great toe ; or putting a Saint Peter upon a pillar, whose sculptured ornaments perpetuate the fame of the Emperor 172 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Trajan ; or a Saint Paul, with a sword in his hand, upon a column sacred to the memory of Marcus Aurelius ! But look we into this little chapel. Here is a picture- Michael the archangel trampling Satan under his feet. But what a curious conceit of the artist ! the old serpent has a, female face of most exquisite loveliness ! The reason is as curious as the fact. A lady of uncommon beauty unfortu- nately fell in love with the Bishop of Ariano. Whether the* Bight Keverend Father returned her tender passion for a season, I am sure I cannot say. Certain it is, however, according to the story, that sooner or later — perhaps about the age of sixty-five, or in the near prospect of death — he was smitten with abhorrence of the fair one's sacrilegious temerity ; and when fitting up this chapel as his mausoleum, he ordered the painter to degrade her into the infernal spirit, and lay her prostrate at the point of the archangel's spear. This Joseph died, and was not canonized ! By the way, what a lamentable, disgusting, pernicious, and impious practice is that of heaping up putrid carcasses in holy places, and making the house of Grod a graveyard ! How strange it is, that so odious a custom should have been so obstinately retained, not only in Papal Italy, but also in Protestant England and America ! It would be difficult to educe one argument in its favor, either from the principles of religion, or from the dictates of reason ; while its incon- veniences are obvious, and its evil consequences are unde- niable. Among the early Christians, the honor of being deposited in the church was reserved for martyrs. Constan- tine only desired to lie in the porch of the Basilica of the apostles, which he himself had erected at Constantinople. Therefore the eloquent Chrysostom, speaking of the triumph of Christianity, proudly observes, that the Cassars, subdued, through the grace of God, by the fishermen whom they had persecuted, now appeared as suppliants before them, and NAPOLI LA BELLA. 173 gloried in occupying the place of porters at the doors of their sepulchres. Bishops and distinguished divines were after- ward gradually permitted to share the honors of the martyrs, and to repose with them in the interior of the sanctuary. A pious wish in some to be entombed near such holy persons, and to rest under the shadow of the altars ; in others, an absurd love of distinction even in death — to which may be added the avarice of the clergy, who, by making the privi- lege expensive, rendered it enviable — by degrees broke through all the wholesome restrictions of antiquity, and at length converted the temples of the living God into the loathsome dormitories of the dead ! But let us proceed, submissive reader, for there are won- ders beyond. See you that lofty promontory, projecting far out into the bay ? That is the Punta di Posilipo. See you that dark aperture, looking like a great Gothic arch in the brown tufa ? That is the Grotta di Pozilipo — an ancient tunnel, half a mile long, twenty-two feet wide, and at the entrance seventy feet high, by which the road passes through the hill, from Naples to Pozzuoli and Baise. Observe, as we approach it, how the long lines of dimly- burning lamps glimmer through the darkness on both sides of the little patch of daylight, apparently not larger than your hat, at the other extremity. Hark ! as we enter, how voice and footstep echo along the subterranean gloom, and the single horseman that comes yonder makes more clatter than a whole troop of the old Roman cavalry, and the thunder of a solitary vettura is as if Caesar were at hand, with a hun- dred triumphal chariots. Who knows the origin of this great tunnel? In the middle ages it was supposed to be the work of Virgil, and the common people believed it to have been done by the poet's magic. It must have existed from the early days of Borne, but we have no distinct mention of it till the time of Nero. Seneca 174 A YEAR IN EUROPE. passed through it on his way from Baiee to Naples ) and he describes it as a long and gloomy prison, in which he " found nothing but mud, and dust, and darkness visible." In the fifteenth century, the floor was lowered, the roof was raised, and two air-shafts were opened above. A hundred years later, it was paved with large polygonal blocks of lava, a la Via Appia ; and since that period sundry other improve- ments have been added. One sees now, upon the walls on either side, at different elevations, the grooves made by the axles of vehicles in former times. Some of these are twenty or thirty feet .above our heads at the entrance, indicating that the floor has been as much higher than it is at present. About midway of the cavern, we find a little chapel cut in the wall, in which a light is ever burning before the image of the Virgin. These scanty lamps are not half sufficient' for the length of the passage, and one would think it must be a dangerous place for pedestrians. But here it opens to the western daylight, toward the ancient Elysian Fields, and a hundred scenes of classic interest beyond. These, how- ever, at present we cannot visit. Let us retrace our steps through \ho. darkness, for we have left behind us one object which no tourist in Italy neglects — the tomb of Virgil. Just where we entered the Grotta, a steep flight of steps leads up the rugged precipice into a vineyard. The custode already awaits us there, with the key. We follow him to the very top of the stupendous arch under which we lately passed. Here is a vaulted chamber, with a dome over it, and niches for urns and statues in the walls. Here, tradi- tion says, sleeps the great Latin poet. He died at Brundu- sium, and was brought hither at his own request for burial. Somewhere upon this picturesque promontory he had his villa ; where he wrote his Eclogues, his Greorgics, and per- haps his .ZEneid. The laurel planted by Petrarch over the tomb has disappeared piecemeal beneath the knife of the NAPOLI LA BELLA. 175 tourist, and many a twig and chip of it lias travelled to England and America. From this advantageous eminence, one has a delightful view of the city and the bay, with Vesuvius across the water, whose cloudy pillar props the incumbent heaven. It is a delicious day, and sea and sky combine to produce an effect which defies alike the pencil and the pen. The purple sheen of the wave, the pearly radiance of the shore, the opal tints of the surrounding hills, and a heaven whose blue seems melted down in a way never witnessed out of Italy, invest the prospect with an ineffable beauty, making sight a wondrous blessedness, and giving a new luxury to life. Let us return into the city, and take a view of some of its churches. And first to the Neapolitan Cathedral. It stands upon the substructions of a temple of Apollo, and is adorned with more than a hundred columns once belonging to that ancient edifice. It was originally a Gothic structure ) but having been shattered by successive earthquakes, it has been repaired in so many different manners, that it presents now no particular order, but rather a combination of all. Its ornaments are in perfect keeping with its architecture — a jumble of beauties and deformities. Its most sacred depos- its, and indeed the most valuable treasures in the city — not excepting even the great sardonyx in the Museo Borbonico — are, first, the remains of Saint Januarius, which lie in a chapel beneath the choir ; and, secondly, his blood, which is kept in a bottle, and said to liquefy twice a year, while the stone on which he suffered martyrdom breaks into a crimson perspiration. Into the truth of these phenomena the Neapo- litans never give themselves the trouble to inquire; acting on the maxim of the ancient Germans, that it is more rever- ent and holy to believe things relating to the gods than to know them. And why should they not believe ? Have not the bones of Saint Januarius, borne in procession through 176 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the streets of Naples, more than once appeased the wrath of old Vulcan, and arrested the fire-torrent that was rolling down the steep of Vesuvius ? The Church of Saint Paul occupies in part the site of a temple of Castor and Pollux, and in part that of the theatre where Nero first made his appearance in the imperial charac- ter of an actor on the stage. In its front are two of the fine Corinthian columns which formed the portico of the original building ; six others were destroyed by the earth- quake which overthrew it. The interior is spacious, well proportioned, and encrusted with precious raarble. The chancel is extensive, and supported by beautiful antique pillars, which possibly belonged also to the ancient temple. I must hasten. The Church of SS. Apostoli stands on the ruins of the temple of Mercury, is supposed to have been erected by Constantine, has been several times shat- tered and rebuilt, and is now a magnificent structure. That of S. Lorenzo occupies the site of the Basilica Augustalis — a noble hall, demolished in the thirteenth century, and replaced by the present comparatively tasteless building. That of S. Spirito is of a purer and simpler style ; adorned with fine Corinthian pilasters, entablature, and cornice ; en- cumbered with a superfluity of ornament, and wanting a softer color to please the eye. That of S. Dominico Mag- giore is remarkable for the tomb and bronze bust of the poet Marini, erected at the desire of Manso, the friend of Tasso and Milton, who left a bequest for the purpose. That of S. Filippo Neri is one of the finest churches in Naples, and famous for the number of ancient pillars that support its triple row of aisles on each side of the nave. That of S. Gaudioso, belonging to the Benedictine convent, con- tains the blood of St. Stephen, which, like that of Saint Januarius, liquefies annually on the day of the martyr's fes- tival. That of S. Giovanni — ; — NAPOLI LA BELLA. 177 But I am sure you are tired, dear reader, and so am I. Let us have done with churches. If I should devote half a doze n lines to every one of the S. Giovannis, and Giocomos, and Gregorios, and Giorgios, and Genaros, and Martinos, and Antonios, and Gatarinas, and Augustinas, and Annun- ziatas, and Incoronatas, and Ascensiones, I fear you would never forgive me ; and if I should add all the Marias, of which there are not less than thirty, surely I should ruin myself with all my readers. There are more than three hundred churches in Naples; and some of them, artistically considered, are of immense value ; but religiously regarded, the African church in Nashville, or the basement of Trinity in Charleston, is worth a million of them ! The Royal Palace is a spacious and magnificent structure Its front is five hundred feet long, and more than a hundred feet high. The columns and pilasters of its three stories exhibit three orders of architecture — the Doric, the Ionic, and the Composite. Its furniture is equal to that of any palace in Europe. One of its upper saloons has twelve of the largest mirrors in the world, simply empanelled in a delicate border. On the ground-floor is a suite wholly wain- scotted with real frescoes and arabesques from Pompeii. Capodimonte is the King's suburban villa. It occupies an elevated site, strangely beautiful, upon the undermined crust of a tufo quarry, which has been artificially strength- ened to support the superincumbent structure. The grounds are delightful, and there is an ilex-shaded avenue more than a mile in length. Its farm is said to supply the royal table, and send a surplus to the Neapolitan market. Its balconies afford refreshing views of the city and its environs. Its pictures are not despicable, especially those which relate to events in the national history. Particularly interesting is u The Brave Girl of G-aeta/' who, after dispatching the French sentry & la Jael, spikes the guns with a store of 8* 178 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ready nails from her apron, and then delivers over the for-. tress to her townsmen. Occupying the highest point of a range of hills north- west of Naples, overlooking the city, and commanding a view of the bay, and many a scene immortalized by Livy and Virgil, stands a monastery, called the Camaldoli. Of course the ladies of our party were not permitted to enter the cloisters, and we preferred their company to that of the monks, and the view we enjoyed without must have been infinitely better than any thing to be seen within. There were the bay and the sea, as blue as the azure above them ; and there was the capital of the Two Sicilies, with the fine promontories of Posilipo and Misinum ;. and there was the modern representative of the town, where Paul, the prisoner, with Luke, his companion, first touched the Italian shore ; and there were Avernus, and Lucrinus, and the Acheron", and the Elysian Fields, and the site of the beautiful Baiae, and of CumaB and Liturnuin, and the two villas of the, greatest of Roman orators; and there were the sweet islands of Nesida, Procida, and Ischia, with Capri beyond, lying like a great sphinx upon the water; and the Sorren- tine coast, with its mountain crest, and its smiling cities; and Vesuvius sending up its vapory column to the sky, like the fume of a mighty sacrifice ; and the vast panorama of the Campania Felix, with its far-spreading vineyards and olive-groves, and here and there a village gleaming out from the foliage, walled in by the purple Apennines. It was a scene to intoxicate the soul ; and, in the satisfaction of the hour, we forgot the monks and the monastery, and all the little sorrow of life floated off into the blue ether above us. MOUNT VESUVIUS. 179 CHAPTER XIV. MOUNT VESUVIUS. THE ASCENT THE SUMMIT ANCIENT CONDITION GRAND ERUPTION OF A. D. 79 CONSTANT CHANGES OTHER ERUPTIONS VIEW FROM THE TOP DESCENT VARIOUS IMPRESSIONS. Mount Vesuvius was in full view from our hotel ; its dark swelling outline forming a grand pedestal for the column of cloud which stood upon its summit during the day, and which the night kindled into a pillar of fire. The sun had just risen above it, and hung tremulous in his lurid canopy, as if ready to fall back into the crater whence he seemed to have come, when we set forth on a visit to the volcano. Six miles from the city we rattled through the main street of Resina, with the palaces and temples of the buried Herculaneum eighty feet beneath our wheels. Here begins the ascent, where carriages are usually exchanged for horses and donkeys. Forty persons, at least, offered their services as ciceroni. Advertised of the impositions con- tinually practiced by these fellows, and desirous of obtaining the well-known veteran who has had the honor of conduct- ing Baron Von Humboldt and many other scientific gentle- men, we inquired at once for Vincenzo Cozzolino. One of the crowd promptly replied, " I am Cozzolino f and our driver, who knew him well, promptly confirmed the declara- tion. Unwilling to take the word of either, we applied to a 180 A YEAR IN EUROPE. shopkeeper for further information. He pointed us to a sign across the street, where we had the good fortune to find the real Cozzolino at his breakfast. Cozzolino, the pre- tender, was now ready to furnish us with beasts, and in five minutes more we were mounted and on our way. Our caval- cade was a most ludicrous spectacle, climbing a steep and narrow alley in single file, a dozen men and boys belabor- ing the poor animals with clubs, and shouting and yelling like a whole tribe of Indians. This assistance was more than we had bargained for; and we had actually to beat the rabble off, before we could pursue our way in peace. A rough ride of an hour and a half, by a gentle ascent, first through gardens and vineyards, and then over succes- sive beds of lava, some of them only a few years old, brought us to the foot of the great cone. Here we left our animals, and began the ascent on foot. It was the steepest and roughest road I had ever travelled. The lava, which contracts in cooling, and breaks into a thousand fragments, has precisely the appearance of cinders from a furnace, only the masses are larger, and their sharp angles form as uncomfortable a pavement as can well be imagined. We saw other ladies carried up in chairs, each upon four men's shoulders, a la pope in Saint Peter's ; but ours were American ladies, and declined all such assistance. We then, advised, and even urged, that they should allow the guides to aid them with straps; but they stoutly resisted our impor- tunity, and worked their way over the sharp masses with characteristic independence and energy. It was a long and toilsome effort ; and ever and anon, as they paused for breath, our officious Italian friends would call out one to another — " Signora 4 medza morta, Signorina e pronta di morire !" but our fair heroines pressed bravely on, literally, panting for the summit, and insisting that their promenade was very pleasant; till their score of kind attendants, find- MOUNT VESUVIUS. 181 ing all their arguments and entreaties thrown away, forsook them, and returned in grievous disappointment to the foot of the cone. We were all under the necessity of stopping frequently to rest, and it was amusing to hear old Cozzolino urging us forward, with his mingled French, English, and Italian — " Courage, Signora ! Avante, Signorina ! Allez, allez ! Come along, Come along !" The ascent occupied nearly two hours, and the whole company was sufficiently fatigued ; but when near the summit we found a large mass of snow, which proved a delightful refreshment. We could not have had a more favorable day for our purpose ; for the shy was perfectly clear, and a light breeze bore the vapor and ashes in the opposite direction, so that we breathed a pare atmosphere, and had an unobstructed view. I shall never forget the moment when I first stood upon the verge of the great crater, and looked clown into the fierce cauldron at my feet. It is a round hole in the top of the mountain, about three hundred feet deep, and something more in diameter. Its walls are perpendicular, and appear to consist of solid masses of sulphur. From the centre rises a black cone nearly to a level with the surrounding rim, pre- cisely in the form of a funnel inverted in a tub. In the apex is an opening some twenty or thirty feet in width, puffing and blowing like fifty steam-engines, and pouring forth a tremendous volume of smoke. Occasionally the liquid mass is seen boiling and surging within, and ever and anon it flows over the edge, and rolls down the outside, like a stream of melted iron. At irregular intervals, varying from one minute to five, a grand explosion, like the blowing up of a Mississippi steamer, sends the red-hot .stones five or six hundred feet above the summit ; and these fall back into the glowing furnace, or come rattling down upon the sides of the cone. When these phenomena occurred, our old guide would clap his hands, and shout — "Bravo, bravo, Fra 182 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Diavolo I" and challenge Ms infernal majesty to a bolder demonstration: Indeed, he entered heartily into the enthu- siasm of the company, and seemed to enjoy the scene as much as any of us, though he had witnessed it a thousand times. Several black masses beneath our feet, he told us, had fallen there during the preceding night ; but there was no danger now, for the wind was blowing in the other direc- tion. He showed us two large stones, one of which, in falling, some time ago, had killed an American officer, and the other had broken the skull of an Englishman. He said he had attended Humboldt in twenty-seven visits to the mountain, during three months which the philosopher spent at Naples for this purpose. While we were there, an Eng- lish party came up, under the guidance of the old man's son, some of whom ventured too near the brink to suit his ideas of prudence, and one of them, in spite of his admoni- tions, exposed himself to great danger, whereupon Coz- zolino exclaimed — " 0, he is an Englishman : he is a fool I" Very near this crater is another, of about the same diame- ter, but not quite so deep, with a smaller cone near its western wall, whose action was similar to that of the former, though less violent. One side of this crater is sloping ; and we descended, ankle-deep in hot ashes. The bottom is a level space, about two hundred feet across, and looks like a mass of melted pitch, the surface of which has hardened in ridges, contracting as it cooled, producing many cracks and chasms. The sulphurous vapor that came up through these openings was almost suffocating; and though we remained there not more than two or three minutes, and kept stepping continually, our boots were burned, and our feet well-nigh blistered with the heat. In the fissures, as we crossed them, we could see the red mass boiling beneath us; and here and there it was slowly oozing up, and flowing over the surface. We dipped coins into it, and brought away with MOUNT VESUVIUS. 183 us, as a Yankee once said, " some of the saliva of Mount Usorius." The bottom of Mrs. C's dress took fire, and she beat a hasty retreat. As she stepped from the edge of the black crust, it broke beneath her tread, and the red lava came gushing up from the crack, and the fragment went slowly under, like the scum in a boiling pot. This black crust, indeed, is but the surface of a lake of fire, partially cooled upon the top by the action of the atmosphere. When we ascended, we found a collation awaiting us, con- sisting of bread and wine, with oranges, and some eggs, which an old man had cooked in a crevice, whence hot vapor issued. But poor Mr. Dey sank fainting from the effect of the sulphurous fumes he had inhaled, and it was a long time before he fully recovered. He had u taken too much of the crater !" Viewed from Naples, Yesuvius appears to have two sum- mits, with a deep valley between them; the southern or right hand one being the volcano, and the other called Monte Somma. From the top, however, the latter seems to be the segment of a circle, extending nearly half-way round the former, and perpendicular on the inner side. It is sup- posed ta have formerly encircled the present eruptive cone, and formed the wall of the original crater, which rose to a much greater height ; but the top of it, with all the southern and western sides, was blown away in the terrible eruption of seventy-nine, which destroyed Herculaneum and Pompeii. This supposition is abundantly confirmed by the history of that eruption, as well as by geological investigations and the ancient descriptions of Yesuvius. The old geographers, before the reign of Titus, speak of it as much larger and higher than it is now, and covered with a luxuriant vegeta- tion to the very rim of the rocky hollow upon its summit. There were traditions of its having vomited fire and smoke ; but the first recorded eruption was that just mentioned, in 184 A YEAR IN EUROPE. which the elder Pliny perished, and of which his nephew — the younger Pliny — was the historian. The latter tells us that the column of smoke which heralded that grand disas- ter was similar in form to a pine-tree. This will hardly be understood by one who has never seen the stone-pine of Italy, of which I believe we have no specimen in America. The tree shoots up to a great height without limbs, and then spreads out into a broad top, something like an umbrella. Such was the appearance of this tremendous cloud > ascend- ing to an immense altitude, and then spreading over the heavens. Afterward it settled down over land and sea, .pro- ducing darkness deeper than the blackest night; and ever and anon broad vivid flashes of lightning broke through the gloom, with reports which made heaven and earth to quake. The steam which ascended from the crater fell in torrents of hot water, bringing with it the light ashes which filled the air, and sweeping down the loose cinders from the side of the mountain, burying Herculaneum in a deluge of mud, which penetrated all its houses, and afterward hardened into stone. Meantime the glowing ashes piled themselves over the loftiest palaces and temples of Pompeii, producing a destruction not less effectual than the former. An im- mense column of flame shot up from the mountain, and fire and noxious vapor burst forth from the plain. The elder Pliny, who was creeping along the coast in a galley to rescue his friend at Stabie from the danger, saw huge masses, rent from the summit, roll down into the sea ; while a tempest of fire and ashes, flint and pumice-stone, beat incessantly into the ship. The smoke extended over a vast area, the scoria fell in very remote localities, and the greater part of the mountain was torn away. But this tremendous dis- charge exhausted the volcano, and it remained quiescent a hundred and twenty-four years. After this, eruptions suc- ceeded one another at long intervals, the greatest being two MOUNT VESUVIUS. 185 hundred and sixty-nine years ; during which, the mountain became covered with trees, and the thick copse-wood within the crater was a covert for wild boars. In the seventeenth century, however, there were six distinct eruptions ; in the eighteenth, no less than thirty ; and the nineteenth promises a still greater number, for seventeen have occurred already. There are fifty-four of these destructive phenomena on record, besides many smaller ones, which did little or no damage. The form and appearance of the mountain are constantly changing, and often an eruption alters the entire aspect of the great central cone. During the last twenty-five years, its altitude has varied about seven hundred feet. It is now about four thousand feet high ; and, according to Humboldt, is constantly growing higher, being lifted up by the tremen- dous force within ; and this process" may still go on, till another grand explosion shall rend it asunder, and demolish the mountain as before. An American gentleman, long resi- dent in Rome, informed the writer, that when he visited Vesuvius, soon after the eruption of 1850, there was but a single crater, and that apparently bottomless ; that by means of a rope fastened around his waist, he descended to a great depth, and then could see nothing but an immense black orifice beneath him. But when we were there, there were two active craters, divided by a narrow ridge, both nearly full ; and the fiery mass was heaving and boiling with a heavy sound below, and the two black cones, with frequent terrific explosions, were gradually piling up the material for the magnificent eruption which has since occurred. What would I not have given for such a spectacle ! Old Cozzo- lino warned us of its approach, and prophecies of the event were rife among the Neapolitans, who seemed anxious to get up an eruption, probably less for our benefit than their own; but our time was short, and our purse was shorter, and the 186 A YEAR IN EUROPE. old'fire-king was too tardy in his grand pyrotechnical display. From the top of the mountain we could trace a dozen dis- tinct streams of lava down its sides, into the plain below, eight or ten miles from their source ; the more recent look- ing like rivers of pitch, streaked here and there with sul- phur. We passed solid masses of this latter substance, some of them very large; and walked over extensive beds of it, as pure and beautiful as any I ever saw in the shop of an apothecary. The glory of Vesuvius is terrible. Even in the compara- tively tranquil mood in which we beheld him, " the hiding of his power" impresses the mind with astonishment and awe. What a sight, when he is licking the sky with tongues of flame, and flooding his broad flanks with fire ! There lies Herculaneum, buried beneath six successive deluges of lava, to the depth of eighty or a hundred feet. There lies Pom- peii, just emerging from her volcanic grave, preserved by the very agent of her destruction. This mighty ruin, so sudden and entire, more than any thing else, aids us to a proximate idea of the tremendous forces at work in the interior of the mountain, and the fiery depths below. The eruption which happened in 472, described by Procopius, is said to have " covered Europe with ashes, which fell even at Constantinople and Tripoli." That of 1500 left an opening five miles in circuit, and a thousand paces deep. In that of 1631, the column of vapor extended more than a hundred miles, and many persons were killed by its incessant dis- charges of electricity ; while seven distinct torrents of fire flowed from the crater, destroying four towns and eighteen thousand people. When it was over, the mountain was only half its present height, with a crater whose sloping sides might safely be descended; but the next eruption, in 1660, completely cleaned out the vast cavity, and left the interior inaccessible from the steepness of its walls. In MOUNT VESUVIUS. 187 1695 the mountain poured out a fiery stream, five miles long, three hundred feet hroad, and more than a hun- dred feet deep; and when examined six years afterward, the inside of this mass was found to be in a glowing heat. In 1707 it sent forth a shower of ashes, which produced total darkness in Naples, accompanied with the most appalling thunder and lightning. In 1780 it hurled red-hot stones to the height of fifteen hundred feet above the orifice whence they issued. In 1737 the ashes and pumice-stone fell four feet deep at Ottaiano, eight miles dis- tant; and trees were broken and houses crushed by the weight. In 1760 fifteen small craters threw out immense quantities of ashes, and two of them discharged torrents of fire. In 1767 the decks of vessels sixty miles distant were covered with the falling ashes, and a river of lava seventy feet deep ran six miles down the mountain, which was hot enough to set a stick on fire thrust into it a year afterward. In 1779 there was an explosion which shook the whole country, and a stupendous column of fire suddenly rose to three times the height of Vesuvius itself, and vast stones were hurled two thousand feet toward heaven, many of which burst like rockets in the air, and some of the fragments which fell weighed over a hundred pounds, and the roof of every house in Ottaiano was demolished by the fiery hail, and the black cloud of smoke and ashes travelled a hundred miles in less than two hours, and so fierce and frequent were the lightnings that darted from it that the Neapolitans were in the utmost consternation, fearing the destruction of the city. In 1794 there was a still more tremendous explosion, and the surface of the ground along the coast was seen to undulate from east to west like the sea in a storm, and a fis- sure opened down the south-west side of the mountain three thousand feet long, and fifteen distinct streams of lava poured forth, which united as they descended, passed 188 A YEAR IN EUROPE. through the town of Torre del G-reco, and ran nearly four hundred feet into the sea, and two days afterward the water was in a boiling state at the distance of a hundred yards, and no vessel could approach without melting the pitch from its bottom. In 1822 ashes and stones were thrown out, which fell for four days in one continual shower ; and the column of vapor, which rose ten thousand feet above the mountain, descended in deluges of scalding rain upon the surrounding villages ; and the eruption left a hollow place in the top, with perpendicular walls, three miles in circumfer- ence, and two thousand feet deep. In 1834 the river of lava ran nine miles, and radiated a heat which was felt at Sor- rento — eighteen miles distant. In 1850 Bosco Reale was overwhelmed ; and the large and beautiful ilexes which shaded the village, as soon as the fiery flood enveloped them/ with sudden explosions burst into columns of flame. In 1855 the current of lava descended ten miles into the plain, destroy- ing vineyards and houses in its course; and there it lies now — jagged, and rusty, and streaked with sulphur — like a vast furrow ploughed up by confederate thunderbolts. For an account of this eruption the reader is referred to an extract from the manuscript notes of an eye-witness, in " Reflected Fragments/' by the Other Side of the House. iEtna and Vesuvius are two hundred miles apart. It is a remarkable fact, that when the former is in eruption, the latter is perfectly tranquil ; and, when the eruption ceases, immediately resumes its action. It is equally remarkable, that before the first great eruption of Vesuvius of which we have any account, Ischia and the Solfatara — twenty or thirty miles distant — were both active volcanoes; but since the internal fires found vent in Vesuvius, they have been con- stantly dormant ; though the Solfatara is always steaming, and gives out an unusual volume of vapor when the old monarch slumbers. These facts indicate a subterranean con- MOUNT VESUVIUS. 189 nection. All southern Italy, indeed, seems to be volcanic, and the mountain range which runs through its centre is probably but the vaulted covering to a vast furnace of fire. The view from the top of Vesuvius is inconceivably fine ; including Naples, with its unrivalled bay; the bold head- lands of Posilipo and Miseno ; the beautiful islands of Pro- cida, Ischia, and Capri; the broad expanse of the blue Mediterranean beyond ; and the vast prospect of the Cam- pagna, enclosed with mountains, mantled with vineyards, and dotted over with numerous towns and villages. It is all bright and be-autiful now ; but who knows how soon the fair scene may be buried again in ashes, and the villages that are climbing the mountain-side swept down by floods of fire ? We returned as far as the Hermitage, which is about mid- way up the mountain, and then took the new road, con- structed upon a lofty and narrow ridge of lava, which runs directly down toward Naples, with a deep gulf on either side. The road is exceedingly fine, and winds to and fro along the summit of the elevation like a great serpent, in the most regular and beautiful manner, through terraced vineyards, and gardens, and groves of golden fruit. Resum- ing our carriage at Resina, we reached our hotel in Naples about half-past six in the evening, having been absent ten hours and a half — all thoroughly fatigued with the trip, but a thousand times repaid for the toil. Some writers and tourists in Italy have spoken of Vesu- vius in language of great disrespect ; and so, I am sorry to say, did one of our own company, when we were standing upon the brink of the crater. Horace Binney "Wallace, an Amer- ican poet, calls it " an accursed monstrosity" — " a vision of the second death" — "a fetid cancer upon the breast of earth" — " a raw and open ulcer threatening its destruc- tion" — "a black bosom in which sensual passion has 190 A YEAR IN EUROPE. burnt itself to exhaustion" — " the parched shore of the ever-absorbing and ever-empty sea of annihilation" — " cov- ered with brilliant knoblike blossoms, the sulphurous flowers of hell !" Madame de Stael, in Corinne, says that it is " nature committing suicide" — that the lava is " of such a lurid tint as might represent infernal fire," advancing with "the united strength and cunning of a great serpent/' or of " a tiger that steals upon his prey" — that the rocks at the source of the flood are " covered with pitch and sulphur whose colors might suit the home of fiends, forming to the eye a dissonance like that which the ear would experience if pierced by the harsh cries of witches conjuring down the moon from heaven," furnishing " all the materials of the poets' portraitures of hell," suggesting "a power of evil that labors to thwart the designs of Providence," and. starting the inquiry "whether goodness presides over the phenomena of the universe, or some hidden principle forces nature like her sons into ferocity." All this is to me as "revoltingly beautiful," as "dis- gustingly splendid," as to one of these authors was the aspect of Vesuvius. It is a libel upon the character of the volcano, and an unworthy reflection upon the benevolence of the Creator. To me, the variegated and blended hues of the crater were exceedingly beautiful, while its form and action were incomparably sublime. The scene thrilled me with ineffable pleasure, and gave me new and delightful thoughts of the power of God and the glory of his works. One of our party, after descending, said he felt as if he had been in the infernal regions ; for my part, I felt as if I had been somewhat nearer heaven. The smoke and fire made me think of Moses upon " the Mount of God," while the glorious prospect that lay spread out beneath and around reminded me of his Pisgah-view of the Promised Land. One of the writers referred to above says he cares not " to MOUNT VESUVIUS. 191 see such a thing again in this world/' and prays that ho " may never see any thing like it in the next." For my part, I should like to see it once a week as long as I live ; and daily, while we remained at Naples, the first thing I did after leaving my chamber in the morning, and the last before retiring at night, was to take a look at Vesuvius. v 192 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER XV. THE BURIED CITIES. MUSEO B0RB0NIC0 WORKS OP ART DOMESTIC ARTICLES HERCULA- NEUM THE THEATRE "NEW EXCAVATION"— POMPEII TEMPLES "STREET OF ABUNDANCE" THEATRE MISCELLANEOUS OBJECTS VIA APPIA VILLA OF DIOMEDE. Taking the advice of Francis, Murray, and others, we visited the Museo Borbonico, the Royal Museum of Naples, preparatory to an excursion to the Buried Cities. Here is a large collection of curious and interesting things, found during the excavation of Herculaneum and Pompeii — illus- trating more perfectly than any history could do it, the manners and customs of the ancient times. The first hall we entered contained frescoes, transferred from the disin- terred walls. Some of these are indeed wonderful produc- tions, considering the age in which they were executed, and the centuries they have lain concealed in their lava shrouds ; and, even independently of these circumstances, many of them are intrinsically interesting as works of art. There are already nearly two thousand objects, and the number is con- stantly increasing as the excavations progress. Pew of the subjects of these paintings are historical; many are natural, and more are mythological. The last seems to have been the favorite department of the Pompeian and Herculanean artists, and nearly all their larger works consist of delinea- THE BURIED CITIES. 193 tions of the more sentimental scenes of mythological litera- ture. Some of the best pieces are Hercules strangling the serpent, Telephus nursed by the hind, Theseus killing the centaur, Iphigenia borne to the altar, Ariadne abandoned at Naxos, Polyphemus receiving a repulsive letter from Gala/tea, Achilles delivering Briseis to the heralds of Agamemnon; Pylades and Orestes conducted in chains to the sacrifice; and then there are the love-bargain, the rope-dancers, the thirteen Danzatrici, a lady at the toilette, a blind man led by a dog, fruits and flowers, birds and fishes, men and donkeys, temples and landscapes, battles and festivals, with other objects too numerous to mention, but too curious not to be observed. From this we passed to the galleries of sculpture, occupy- ing three large porticoes, six smaller apartments, a cabinet, an ante-room, and a spacious open court. Our hasty walk through this rich storehouse of beauty was, of course, insuf- ficient for any adequate impression of its details; and select- ing such objects as seemed most worthy of our attention, we were obliged to pass the rest with the briefest side-glance. Of equestrian statues, those of the Balbi — father and son — found in the Basilica of Herculaneum, are the most remark- able. The Farnese Minerva, a colossal figure in Parian marble, cost nearly forty thousand dollars, yet it does not appear at all conspicuous in the collection. The Farnese Bacchus is exquisitely graceful; and the Wounded Grladi- ator, and the sitting statue of Agrippina, are scarcely sur- passed in their kind. The Venus Callipyge stands like a queen amid a crowd of Venuses. The busts are innumerable — busts of gods and goddesses, of poets, sages, orators and emperors. To describe minutely one in fifty would be to write a volume, and a mere catalogue could not be very edifying to the reader. The ancient bronzes constitute the largest and finest col- 9 194 A YEAR IN EUROPE. lection in the world, occupying some nine or ten spacious rooms, and most of them found at Herculaneum and Pom- peii. A statue of Mercury in repose, from the former, has been pronounced the most perfect in existence. A sleeping- fawn, a dancing fawn, a drunken fawn, six statues of actresses, found in the theatre at Herculaneum, busts of three of the Ptolomies with diadems, of Plato, Berenice, and Scipio Africanus, are among the chief beauties of this incom- parable collection. Bronze seems to have been the common metal of the ancients, answering nearly all the purposes for which we now employ iron. Here is one room occupied entirely with cooking utensils — pans, skillets, kettles, egg- boilers — all of bronze, lined with silver, and many of them filled with lava. Here is a Pompeian cooking-stove, which would afford an interesting study for a New England genius, and which any modern housewife might deem an acquisition. Another room is full of weights, scales and measures, candel- abra, and so on, many of them of the most curious and fanciful construction. Another contains vessels and instru- ments of sacrifice — knives, hooks, plates, braziers, tripods, caldrons, and altars. And" then there are the weapons of the warrior, strangely grouped with the tools of the citizen and the husbandman — the sword hanging with the carpen- ter's saw, and the spear with the vine-dresser's knife. There was the helmet of the soldier whose skeleton was found guarding the gate of Pompeii, where he had stood 1678 years — the helmet and nothing else ! And there were musical instruments, surgical instruments, and the gambler's cards and dice, with the stylus and tablets of the scribe. And there were nails, and locks, and keys, and thimbles, and needles, and bodkins, and tickets for the theatre, and nice little soap dishes for the toilette, and tiny pots of whiting and rouge for the necks and cheeks of Pompeian beauty. The sixth and seventh chambers contain a hetereogeneous THE BURIED CITIES. 195 assemblage of the most recently discovered articles — kitchen furniture, bathing vessels, the tools of all arts and occupa- tions under the sun ; most of them as ingenious in contriv- ance, and as convenient for use, as any thing of the kind now found in France, England, Grermany, or America; and some of our party were constantly exclaiming, " The nine- teenth century has nothing better than this \" Then we came to the cabinet of gems, containing all the articles of jewelry found in the buried cities. Here is a wonderful collection of gold and precious stones, a large proportion of which was taken from the house of Diomede at Pompeii. Here are earrings, pendants, brooches, bracelets, and necklaces, all of the costliest gems, set in the finest gold. Some of the golden bands for the wrists and ankles, I should judge, would weigh two or three pounds a pair. "We saw rings still upon the fingers, just as they were found; and one large case is filled with rings recently taken from the fingers that wore them two thousand years ago. The hand of a woman, grasping a purse of money, retains its per- fect shape, though charred by volcanic fire. Of cameos, en- taglios, and the like, there seemed to be no end. A single onyx, six inches or more in diameter, carved with the most curious devices, is said to be worth every thing else in the collection. Then there were spoons, forks, knives, plates, silver kettles, and elegantly engraven mirrors. And there were figs, olives, walnuts, lentiles, barley, rice, and wheat, and seeds of various sorts, all completely calcined. And there were corks and sponges, nets, ropes, and linen clothes, in the same condition ; but showing distinctly their texture, and giving us an insight of the household economy of a for- mer age. And there were paints, and oils, and dyes, and chalk, and soap, and putty, and white lead, still in the glass jars in which they were exposed for sale. And there were bottles of wine, not easy to drink at present, and loaves of 196 A YEAR IN EUROPE, bread stamped with the baker's name, and meats and vege- tables in the pot, which the red lava finished cooking, when it roasted the cook in his kitchen. One very interesting object was a large piece of cloth, of very coarse texture, not ■unlike American tow-cloth, which, we were assured, was asbestos, found near a tomb, and used for wrapping the body when it was burned, in order to preserve the ashes. The collection of ancient medals, numbering fifty thou- sand, and the terra cotta articles, amounting to six thousand, and the curious hall of mosaics, and the fine array of sepul- chral vases, and the incomparable assemblage of antiquities from the Nile, these, " all and sundry," we passed unseen for want of time. Nor is it to be much regretted that we could not even look into one of the fourteen rooms of paint- ings, when we remember how useless is the hasty examina- tion which the tourist usually bestows upon such produc- tions; for it has been truly said, that " He who has seen but one work of ancient art has seen none, and he who has seen a thousand has seen but' one." Having examined the Museum, we were now ready for a survey of the buried cities, whence most of its treasures were taken. The sun rose, wreathed with smoke, over the cone of Vesuvius, as we rushed merrily along the curving shore toward the scene of his triumph, seventeen hundred and seventy-eight years before, over the pride and the power of man. Three quarters of an hour brought us to the royal villa at Portici, a handsome building, with fine gardens and shrubbery. It spans the street, and you pass through its court on your way to Vesuvius. One of its rooms is inlaid with porcelain, representing flowers, fruits, birds, and various animals, copied chiefly from frescoes found in Herculaneum. In another department were formerly deposited the various interesting objects taken from the buried cities; but, as they increased in number, the place became "too strait" for THE BURIED CITIES. 197 them, and they were removed to the Royal Museum in Naples. The palace contains some fine paintings and statues ; which, however, we did not tarry to examine, for a vast city lay beneath, and we were anxious to explore its subterranean halls. Herculaneum was destroyed in the seventy-ninth year of the Christian era, when Titus was on the imperial throne, not by a flood of fire, but by a torrent of volcanic mud, which rolled down the mountain-side, filled and covered all its houses, and afterwards hardened into stone. Subsequent eruptions buried it still deeper beneath alternate strata of ashes and lava, till it lay eighty feet under the surface. Its name and catastrophe were too well recorded to be for- gotten ; but its site, though marked out by the ancients with tolerable precision, was a subject of debate among the learned, till an accident determined the controversy. Near the beginning of the last century, a peasant, sinking a well in his garden, found several fragments of marble. Excava- tions were now instituted, and a marble temple was disco- vered, adorned with the finest statues. Then the Neapoli- tan government interposed, and all further investigation was suspended for the next twenty years. At the end of this period, the ground was purchased, and a palace built upon it for the king. How much better it would have been to order extensive excavations, and lay open to public in- spection the buried glories of antiquity ! But such is a specimen of royal stupidity. More recently, however, other openings have been made in the tufa; but more for the purposes of gain than of a liberal curiosity. A basilica has been discovered, two tem- ples, and a theatre ; all of which have been stripped of their numerous pillars and statues, and nothing has been left that could be turned into money. Streets have been opened, well paved, with sidewalks; and private houses, and sepul- 198 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ehral monuments, have been explored, and rifled of their treasures. Columns of marble and alabaster, numerous bronze statues, paintings and mosaics, many of them per- fectly preserved, others fractured and damaged, have been brought up from their dark concealment; with various pieces of armor, articles of jewelry, chirurgical and agricul- tural instruments, kitchen utensils and domestic furniture. But the most curious and valuable things found in this sub- terranean city were the manuscripts, Greek and Latin, which had slept here for so many centuries. It was impos- sible to recover them uninjured, and many of them were totally ruined in the process of unrolling. Hundreds and hundreds have been obtained, but the excavations are as yet very limited and partial, and who can tell what literary trea- sures — what extensive libraries — lie yet entombed in these beds of tufa ? Perhaps some future excavator may be for- tunate enough to find here some of those great works of antiquity, the loss of which has been so long lamented — the books wanting in Tacitus, the Decades of Titus Livius, the treatise of Cicero De Gloria, or his dialogues De Republica, that grand repository of all the political wisdom of the ancients. But royalty moves slowly, and Herculaneum must bide her time. The entrance to the buried city is from the main street of Resina. The guide furnished each of us with a light, and then led the way down a dark staircase hewn in the solid lava. We soon came to the area of the great theatre, larger than any modern theatre of Europe. There were the semi- circular seats, cut in the everlasting travertine, and rising one above another like a flight of steps. The walls, pillars, and arches which are laid bare display occasional patches of frescoes, mosaics, and inscriptions, though most of these or- naments have been removed to the Royal Museum. The orchestra is very spacious, affording ample room for more THE BURIED CITIES. 199 than a hundred musicians. We went " behind the scenes/' and stood upon the stage, where the actors strutted in mimic royalty, or fumed and fainted with counterfeit passion, two thousand years ago. We entered the " G-reen Room/' where we saw the impress of a comic mask in the volcanic stone ; and where, when the place was first opened, were found inscriptions relating to the erection of the theatre, and recording the names of the architects, and of the cen- sor and judge at whose expense it was built. From this great theatre were taken the fine equestrian statues of the Balbi, mentioned in my account of the Museo Borbonico. While there we heard the thunder of the carriages upon the paved street above us, faintly representing the terrific noises which accompanied the catastrophe of the city. For a long time past there have been no new excavations in this direc- tion, and probably it will be a long time before there will be any more ; for the depth and hardness of the tufa renders it very laborious, and the property above is deemed too valua- ble to be endangered. It is a pity, however, that the streets and buildings formerly opened should be filled up again with the rubbish of more recent excavations; but such is the characteristic indolence of Italian laborers, and such the vandal indifference of those who have charge of the work. Having explored these interesting vaults, we retraced our steps, up the dark staircase, into the light of day. The next thing to be seen was the " New Excavation/' near the sea-shore, where several houses have been opened, and a villa of large extent. These, having been buried to no very great depth, are completely uncovered to the sun. There were walls, and pillars, and frescoed chambers, and mosaic pavements, in a wonderful state of preservation. There was an inn, with some of its ancient amphorsc — or wine-jugs — still remaining; but the vessels were empty, and barkeeper and landlord and guest were gone. There was a chapel, 200 A YEAR IN EUROPE. with its altar still standing, as if awaiting the victim and the priest; a prison, in whose dark cells skeletons were found sitting in the stocks ; and a well, whose marble curb is grooved by the chain of the bucket. In various places in the walls, and over the doorways and windows, the remains of the woodwork were visible, reduced to charcoal by the intense heat of the fire-torrents which rolled over them long after the original deluge of mud and ashes. There is a flower-garden within the enclosure of the villa, not quite so well kept as it was by its ancient proprietor ; and we plucked roses, and wall-flowers, and sweet-scented violets, from amid the ruins. From Herculaneum we drove to Pompeii. The distance is about seven miles — perhaps fourteen from Naples. Our road lay along the margin of the bay, at the base of Mount. Vesuvius, crossing numerous beds of lava, poured out at different periods, running in vast ridges down the mountain- side, and here and there jutting far out into the sea. We passed through Torre del Grreco and Torre del Annonciata — towns, each of about fifteen thousand inhabitants. They have both been several times destroyed by eruptions, evi- dences of which are everywhere apparent. Many of the present houses are built upon the lava which buried the old ; and others, which were not entirely covered, were so sur- rounded by the rolling mass, that they are now entered at the second story, and the way into one of the churches is through the great window over the ancient door. It was a festa day ; and the air was musical with the voice of bells ; and men, women, and children thronged the streets, the neat and gayly-dressed mingling with the ragged and filthy rab- ble that swarm in all Italian towns ; and the places of wor- ship were so thronged, that the kneeling crowds overflowed at the portals, and down the broad steps into the public ways ; for there were relics to he shown ! THE BURIED CITIES. 201 Reaching the little inn at Pompeii, we took a hasty lun- cheon ; and then one of the government guides conducted us through the "Sea Grate/' into the silent city. It was with a feeling like that which one experiences on entering a vast cemetery by moonlight, that I first looked along the de- serted streets, and the walls of palaces and temples, parched by volcanic fire — a pale ghost of the mighty past — a dead city, untimely disinterred from its ashy sepulchre ! Pompeii was destroyed not by a stream of lava, or a deluge of mud, but by showers of ashes and pumice-stone, the loose nature of which rendered its excavation comparatively an easy work ; and many of its streets and forums, dwellings and theatres, laid entirely open to the day, sun themselves amid vineyards and flowery fields — a pleasant contrast to the darkly-buried Herculaneum. The largest temple, and the first shown us, was that of Venus. It consists of an area paved with marble, surround- ed by a portico, and having at one end a raised platform, with an altar upon it, and rooms in the rear for the priests. Near this" is a spacious forum, also paved with marble, and showing the bases of several statues. At its northern end is the temple of Jupiter, raised upon a lofty basement, having a portico of Corinthian pillars, some small chambers at one extremity, and part of a staircase that led to an upper story. Then we cam.e to the temple of Augustus, called also the Pantheon, in which was found the statue of Augustus, with the statues of Livia and her son Drusus, now in the Neapolitan Museum. It was built around an atrium or court, in the midst of which are twelve pedestals arranged in a circle, and believed to have sustained the sta- tues of twelve divinities, and on the south side are twelve small chambers for the twelve priests. We passed through a long street, sometimes called " the Street of Abundance," from a statue of that goddess .which 9* 202 A YEAR IN EUROPE. was found at one end of it; and sometimes "the Street of the Silversmiths/' from the quantities of jewelry discovered in its houses. The buildings are nearly all of the same size and form, and painted in the same manner. They were chiefly of one story, built around an open court. The apartments, especially the sleeping-rooms, were very small. Some of the frescoes and mosaics were beautiful, and in a good state of preservation. In this street are several large fountains or reservoirs, evidently intended for public use. At one end of it was found a skeleton with a sack, con- taining a large number of silver coins, with some of bronze and gold. The theatre, which was found entire, lies fairly open to the day; but its statues and other ornaments have all been removed to the metropolis. It stood on the slope of the hill facing the bay, the stage and the orchestra being at the foot, and the seats rising in semicircular ranges up the acclivity. The seats were divided and numbered, and it is calculated that five thousand people could have found accommodation there. It was well furnished with means of ingress and of egress ; and as it was without a roof, there was no want of ventilation; and the audience might enjoy a glorious view of the outspread waters before them, with Stabiae and Sur- rentum beyond, and the mountain heights of the promon- tory, while they sat witnessing the play. We now passed through several streets, visiting numerous shops and dwellings, some of them quite remarkable for their contents and decorations. There were stores for wine and oil, with the great earthen vessels still standing, in which those things were kept. There were restaurants and baker-shops, with ovens and flour-mills exactly like those now used in Naples and Rome. There was the custom-house, where weights and measures were found, and a great pair of scales. There was a basilica, with a raised tribune for the THE BURIED CITIES. 203 judges, and dungeons beneath for criminals. There were the barracks, with the names and jests of the soldiers scribbled on the walls, as fresh as if it had been done but yesterday. There were the public baths, with all the appur- tenances of such an institution complete, and separate apart- ments for hot water and cold. Men evidently shaved in those days, for there was the barber-shop, though its occu- pant appeared to have stepped out for a moment or two. Two houses, standing side by side, were remarkable for their beautiful fountains, with large semicircular niches fronting the atriums, and elaborately ornamented with mosaics, shell- work, bas-reliefs, and statuary. In many of these places, when they were opened, skeletons were discovered, with coins of various metals, and quantities of gems and gold. The Via Appia runs through the centre of the city. It is rather narrow, but has sidewalks three feet wide, and elevated about twenty inches above the central pavement. The stones are worn into deep ruts by the wheels, about four feet apart ; showing that the carriages of the Pompeians were much narrower than ours, and that they generally kept the same line. We passed through this street, leaving the city at the " Porta Herculanea." Here was found the skeleton of a soldier who was on guard when the fiery tempest came down, and here he had stood at his post nearly two thousand years. Some distance without the gate, on the Street of Tombs, is the superb villa of Diomede — the largest and finest establishment hitherto discovered, and which has furnished more than any other of the curiosities and works of art now in the museum at Naples. Close by the garden-gate were found the skeletons of the master and an attendant — the one grasping a key, the other a purse of gold. In the vaulted basement, whither the household seem chiefly to have fled for shelter, seventeen skeletons were discovered, principally of women and children ; and on the side of one of the subter- 204 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ranean passages is still to be seen, as distinct as if painted there, the outline of the nurse's form, with an infant in her arms. But -what avail such details ? The reader must see and survey these ruins for himself. He must walk these silent streets, and enter these tenantless houses, before he is pre- pared to appreciate any description of them from another. We spent four or five hours here, but needed as many days. As we wandered about, it seemed difficult to realize that Pompeii had been hidden under ground for so many centu- ries; and at every corner I almost expected to see some old Roman patrician sweep by in his toga, or hear the children chattering Latin to one another in their sports. But all around is silence — the silence not of solitude and repose, but of devastation and death — the silence of a great city without a single inhabitant; and there, hanging its white signal-vapor in the sapphire sky, stands the destroyer, look- ing down upon the destroyed ! THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 205 CHAPTER XVI. THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. NOCERA— LA CAVA — BEAUTIFUL SCENERY — THE CONVENT — CHARMING DRIVE AMALFI — ITS HISTORY — BEGGARS AND BEGGING —r WILD NIGHT-SCENE — MONTE SANT ANGELO — COURAGE, MACCARONI, AND CHEESE GLORIOUS PROSPECT CASTELLAMARE PLAIN OP SOR- RENTO — THE TOWN AND ITS ANTIQUITIES — POETIC CURIOSITY. Know ye the land of the cypress and vine, "Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfumo, Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gull* in their bloom ; Where the citron and orange are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute; Where the tints of the earth and the hues of the sky, In color though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all but the spirit of man is divine? Bride op Abydos. We had communed with the ghost of antiquity in the dark vaults of Herculaneum. We had wandered many hours through the silent streets of Pompeii, amid ruined palaces and theatres, forums and temples, baths and tombs. To this dreary and deathlike solitude, the bustle of a railway station and the rapid motion of the train afforded a refresh- ing contrast ; and as we rushed past villa and vineyard up * The rose. 206 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the sweet valley of the Sarno, it was delightful to find our- selves once more surrounded by the realities of the living world. A visit to Pestum, the brief time we had allotted ourselves would not allow us to enjoy; but we determined to see all we could of Southern Italy, especially of the classical localities and incomparable scenery of the Salernian and Sorrentine coasts. It was nearly sunset when we left the little inn at Pompeii; and before we reached the railroad terminus at Nocera, the gray evening had mantled the plain, and hung a soft veil over the mountains. It was a festa day in honor of some one or other of the saints, and had been worthily kept by the agents and drivers of the various public vehicles. Powerfully wrought the spirit that was in them, and bravely did they contend for the privilege of conveying us to La Cava. The Italians always talk louder than any other peo- ple, and an extra glass amazingly augments their vocal powers. They surrounded us like a pack of hungry wolves, yelling like panthers, and fighting like tigers. The ladies were not a little frightened, and I know not what would have been the result, had not a stalwart policeman come in good time to our rescue. He stalked in among the rabble like a Hercules, smiting right and left with his ponderous mace. A peace was soon conquered, and through the imperfect Italian of Mr. Hall — the standing spokesman of our party — We were enabled to bargain for a ride to La Cava. Six car- lini, without " buona mano," was the stipulation, thrice repeated. Away we went, as if flying from the wrath of Vesuvius. Our carriage was as crazy as the drunken driver, yet it would have tried the railroad locomotive to keep our company. Half an hour's race, and we were at our hotel ; but here occurred a scene demanding the pen of a Dickens. Mr. Hall offers veturino his fee — veturino starts back in astonishment — insists on a piastre, with buona THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 207 inano — is reminded of the contract — declares it is too little — will have more or none — dashes the money upon the pave- ment — raves — threatens — curses the foreigners — is suddenly left to his own reflections — quietly picks up the discarded coin, mounts his box in the most exemplary manner, and manifestly molto contento drives away. Such is a specimen of the scenes we witnessed almost every day in Italy. An Italian is never satisfied with what he receives, though it be all that he at first demanded, and twice the worth of the ser- vice rendered, so long as he deems it possible to get an additional grano. We had a comfortable supper, and a refreshing sleep. When we rose in the morning, we found ourselves in a charming villa, surrounded with a luxuriant lemon grove. The scenery was altogether of a different character from any we had seen before. Behind us towered the majestic Fenes- tra, far into the turquoise firmament ; while before us many an isolated cone shot up from the loveliest of valleys, clothed with forests of oak and chestnut, and crowned with grand old ruins. These were the scenes that inspired the genius and formed the taste of Salvator Bosa. La Cava seems to be a thriving little town, but claims no classical antiquity. It dates from the invasion of G-enseric, and was formed gradually by the attraction of a rich Bene- dictine abbey. When the neighboring town of Marciana was destroyed, its dispersed inhabitants took shelter in the mountains, settled around the monastery, and subsequently built La Cava. The convent is beautifully situated on a lofty sandstone cliff, and is approached by a steep winding path through a shady copse. A stream brawls below, which the fratti have widened into a small lake under the very walls, where fish are fattened for the frying-pan. In a deep recess of the . chapel lies the body of Alpherius, the first abbot, whom the inscription on his tomb declares to have 208 . A YEAR IN EUEOPE. died at the " good old age" of a hundred and twenty years. Here is one of the finest organs in Italy, containing, they say, six thousand pipes; a number which appears incredible! But what of Nocera? The dusty evening, and the civil war that raged around us, allowed us to see but little of it ; we saw, however, that it was without walls, and scattered over an extensive area — more like an American town than an Italian. It is a place of great antiquity, remarkable for its constant loyalty to Rome, and the misfortunes which have befallen it in consequence of that loyalty — first, the vengeance of Hannibal, by whom it was sacked and de- stroyed; afterward, the fury of Ruggiero, king of Naples, who razed its walls to the ground, and dispersed its citizens over the campagna. It is still called Nocera dei Pagani — Nocera of the Pagans — from the circumstance of its having been once a long time in possession of the Saracens. Judg- ing from that evening's demonstration of its character, the appellation seems quite appropriate; yet not more so, per- haps, than to most other towns of Southern Italy. Mrs. Eaton, in her work on Rome, observes, that artistic repre- sentations of God in the churches are less frequent than those of the saints, simply because he is not so much wor- shipped as they. If there is no idolatry now in Italy, there was none in the days of Cassar or Porsenna ! Breakfast, settlement, and vettura for Amalfi. Our road wound down a valley scarcely surpassed in Paradise. On one side the terraced mountain was covered with tropical fruit-groves; and on the other, the sparsely wooded slope was matted with primroses and violets, among which the nightingales sang divinely. Shortly the valley opened upon the fine bay of Salerno, and Vietri at our feet overhung the purple waves. Here the road turns westward, over a deep gulf, toward the Promontory of Minerva and the Isles of the fabled Syrens. The mountains before us rose abruptly from THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 209 the edge of the water; here jutting out in a hold precipice, and there retiring in a wild ravine. Our road, than which there is no better in Italy, was cut through the solid rock, and followed the irregularities of the shore ; now running along the verge of the cliff, and then crossing a deep chasm upon a series of lofty arches. Towns and villages looked down from, dizzy heights upon us as we passed, or hung upon the precipices beneath us, as if meditating a plunge into the sea. Wherever a terrace was possible, the rocky steeps were green with olives, or golden with lemons. The sky was clear as sapphire, the sea was blue as lapis lazuli, and at every turn in the road some new beauty broke upon our sight, thrilling our hearts with a strange, unwonted joy. Never, till all earthly impressions perish, can the memory of that morning be effaced from my soul ! But here is Amalfi, with its little patch of snowy beach, its boats drawn up upon the sand, and its brawny fisher- men spreading their nets in the sun. The town lies at the mouth of a deep gorge in the mountains, through which a torrent rushes into the sea. The Hotel of the Capuchins, at whose base beats the Mediterranean surf, is to be our tempo- rary "Alabama." The scenery of Amalfi is famous through- out the world. I will attempt no description. There is nothing equal to it but the maccaroni which we ate for dinner. The article is produced here in great abundance; and after visiting several of the large manufactories, we sat down to feast upon it with a new relish. The crypt of the cathedral is said to contain the body of Saint Andrew, brought hither from Constantinople in the thirteenth century. It is a grand old edifice, and has one of the most beautiful campaniles I have met with in Italy. The convent of the Capuecini retains its cloisters as perfect as they were six hundred years ago. There is a grotto hard by — a stu- pendous vaulted chamber jn the mountain-side — from the 210 A YEAR IN EUROPE. mouth of which the traveller gets one of the finest seaward prospects in the whole country. The origin of Amalfi is assigned to the fourth century. The legend is, that it was founded by some Roman patricians wrecked upon the coast. It afterward became a great city, the capital of a flourishing republic, the first naval power of Europe, the Athens of the middle ages. Here, if tradition is to be relied upon, was born the inventor of the mariner's compass. Here was preserved the first known manuscript of the Pandects of Justinian. Here originated the famous order of the Hospitallers of Saint John, afterward denomi- nated the Knights of Malta. In the tenth century Amalfi had fifty thousand inhabitants, and its dependent territory a hundred thousand. In the twelfth century it was taken by King Roger, and sacked by the Pisans, who carried off, and retained three hundred years, the Pandects of Justinian. From this disaster Amalfi never recovered. The barbarians overwhelmed it with double destruction, and successive vol- canic convulsions sank its very ruins beneath the sea. A solitary tower now stands upon a lofty rock, almost the only representative of its ancient grandeur. All else that the traveller sees is comparatively modern. As we walked about the place, we were followed by crowds of beggars ; and when we returned to our hotel, a large number of them collected upon the beach beneath the balcony, to whom we threw a few grani, saying : "Be ye warmed, be ye filled !" I have nowhere else seen so many of this wretched trade, as in some of those beautiful locali- ties of Southern Italy. The streets were thronged with them ; they pursued us into the churches, followed us over the mountains, and ran for miles by the side of our carriage, with ceaseless importunity and impassioned gesticulation, pleading for qualche cosa. I never felt so forcibly the utter inadequacy of a passing aid. Alas ! the very flagrancy of THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 211 the case — the undisguised fact that one-third of the popula- tion are starving mendicants — renders habitual lookers-on indifferent to their needs. What is everybody's business is nobody's business. The public is an abstraction, and does not recognize the evil, though it is gnawing at the roots of society. The mischief is aggravated to hopelessness by the universal propensity for begging. The servants beg at the hotels; the postilions beg upon the highways; the woman spinning at the door rises to beg as you approach; the peasant laboring in the field drops his hoe, and runs to beg, as you pass; even the infant in its mother's arms, before it can utter its mother's name, learns to stretch out its little hand, and twist up its face into a petition, when- ever it sees a foreigner. The genial warmth of the climate, and the comparative cheapness of food, more, perhaps, than the perpetual influx of tourists, tend to encourage this ruin- ous proclivity, whose fruit is emaciation, and indolence, and disease, and rags. The King of Naples sees and knows it all; but are not the people his? and has he not a right to drain their money into his lotteries ? and does he not need the revenue to pay the soldiers that are hired to keep them in order ? Once more, • "Hail, Columbia, happy land!" Night fell over the waters. The sirocco, which had been blowing gently during the day, rose to the majesty of a tem- pest. Amid the gusty winds, the rain fell pattering against the window, and the surf beat heavily upon the shore. Through the roar of the storm we heard the faint accents of a single voice, apparently calling for help. Soon there were torches gleaming along the strand, and other voices rose upon the wind. Then a bonfire was kindled, in the broad glare of which we saw a motley crowd of both sexes ; while out upon the dark waters was discerned the dim outline of a 212 A YEAR IN EUROPE. fishing-boat, with several men in it, toiling to effect a land- ing. Two or three heroic fellows, stark naked, with ropes fastened around their waists, were endeavoring to force their way through the boiling surf. Several unsuccessful at- tempts were made, apparently with great danger, and amidst a mighty clamor of voices. At last the object was gained, a rope was carried to the boat, all hands on shore laid hold upon it, and with shouts of triumph drew their comrades far up upon the sand. It was a wild scene, and a worthy close to a day spent amid the most beautiful scenery^ in the world. One of the most prominent and picturesque objects in- cluded in a southward view from Naples is the Isle of Capri, lying about four miles from the point of the Sorrentine Promontory. To visit its far-famed Blue G-rotto, and see what remains of the baths and aqueducts of Augustus, and the Twelve Palaces of the Twelve Superior Divinities built by " that deified beast Tiberius," constituted one of the chief pleasures we had promised ourselves in a southern excur- sion. But after waiting twenty-four hours at Amalfi for per- mission of the winds and waves, the sirocco still blew, and the troubled sea could not rest. Thwarted in one plan, we were not long in projecting another. With an agreeable accession of three Englishmen to our party, and half-a-dozen Italians for an escort, making about fifteen in all, we set forth on donkeyback, across Monte Sant' Angelo, to the northern side of the promontory. The distance may be twenty miles; the mountain is the loftiest on the Bay of Naples ; and the scenery along our path, of the most varied and romantic character. For two full hours we climbed the rugged steep, chiefly by steps cut in the solid limestone ; often winding along the brink of the precipice, with a frightful gulf a thousand feet below; and occasionally obliged to dismount, and clamber THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 213 up the rocks upon our hands and knees. At length, we reached the first table-land, occupied by a picturesque vil- lage, three thousand feet above the beach of Amalfi. Here our cunning escort desired to rest thirty minutes, and re- fresh themselves at an osteria, doubtless at our expense ; but the Monte Sant' Angelo still towered before us two thousand feet above the village, and we promptly negatived the pro- posal. Yet we could not help pausing a few moments to admire the glorious view behind us. There rolled the white surf three thousand feet beneath ; and green vine- yards and yellow orchards, interspersed with modern towns and ancient ruins, hung like a jewelled wreath along the terraced rocks. And there sat Salerno, like a little Naples, nestling in the curve of a charming bay, with its mountain- amphitheatre in the background ; while in the dim distance beyond were faintly seen the temples of Pestum, and the mountains toward Calabria, and the fair Lucanian coast. And there stood the myrtle-crowned Promontorium Mi- nervse; where, according to Seneca and Strabo, Ulysses erected a temple to the goddess; where, in the sixteenth century, Charles the Fifth built a martello tower to warn the inhabitants of approaching danger; and where the last King of Naples reared a lighthouse, which still gleams nightly over the waters. And there rose the three rocky islands, now called the Gralli, inhabited only by seafowl, and beaten by the eternal surf; where, as classic fable tells us, the Syrens lured their victims to destruction by the very sweetness of their songs ; where, as authentic history assures us, wandered the banished tyrant of Amalfi — Doge Mansone the third — after his brother had deprived him of his eyes ; and where, during the middle ages, many a criminal felt the republican vengeance, and expiated his oifences by a dreary exile and a lingering death. "We resume our course, and for two hours more toil up the 214 A YEAR IN EUROPE. mountain. It was not a little amusing to hear one of our English friends cheering on his jaded donkey, with the small stock of Italian which he had acquired, and manufac- tured into a couplet for the occasion : " Cor agio — Cor agio ! Maccheroni e fromagio !" which is, being interpreted : " Courage — Courage ! Maccaroni and cheese !" Some of the company seemed quite exhausted before we reached the summit; but once there, what a prospect re- warded the toil ! The bay lay spread out before us, bathed in as pure a light as ever fell from heaven ; and its semicir- cular coast, for fifty miles a string of towns and villages, in- terspersed with groves and gardens, seemed a colossal neck- lace of alternate emeralds and pearls, with Capri and Ischia for its golden clasps at the two extremities, and Naples and Vesuvius — the one a huge diamond, and the other a mon- ster amethyst- — for its central ornaments. Beyond this stretched the vast Campagna, with its boundary-wall of Apennines — "The masonry of God!" As we descended the mountain, I paused and gazed again and again upon the goodly prospect; and my soul, with un- speakable satisfaction, drank in full draughts of beauty. We passed two or three villages, picturesquely situated on the flanks of Sant' Angelo, with churches perched upon the most inaccessible heights, and old castles and towers crum- bling on the cliffs. It was amid these lofty solitudes that Salvator Rosa dwelt a long time with the brigands, enjoying their protection while he pursued his art. At the foot of THE SORRENTI-NE PROMONTORY. 215 the mountain we entered G-ragnano — the city of rnaccaroni. There are no less than seventy-five large manufactories of this Italian indispensable in the town. Everywhere the yellow fringe hung on poles and lines along the streets. We breathed rnaccaroni ; and the very houses, as we looked into them,- seemed built of that material. Two miles farther we came to Castellamare. Stabias, which once flourished here, was destroyed by Sylla. In Pliny's time the place was occupied by the villas of several Roman patricians, attracted hither by the fame of its mine- ral waters, and by its salubrious climate. Pomponianus was sojourning or residing here when the first great eruption of Vesuvius occurred, in the year seventy-nine. The elder Pliny, then in charge of the Roman fleet lying at Misenum, came in a galley to aid his friend's escape. Such, however, was the darkness, and such the agitation of the water, that they dared not put to sea. With pillows upon their heads, to protect them from the falling stones, they retired along the shore. Pire and vapor frequently burst up from the ground around them ; and Pliny, as his nephew supposes, was suffocated by one of these eruptions. The ruins of an- cient Stabise are still seen, though many of its remains are sunk under the sea. Castellamare was sacked in the fif- teenth century by Pius the Second, and again in the seven- teenth by the Due de Guise. It is now a flourishing town, and a popular summer resort of the Neapolitans, and of invalid forestieri; who come hither for its incomparable climate, and its twelve medicinal springs. At this place we discharged our donkeys and escort ; and after the usual quarrel about buona mano, engaged a vettura for a piastre to take us to Sorrento. The distance is nine miles ; and the road, which is an exceedingly fine one, runs along the brink of the precipice, several hundred feet above 216 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the sea; crossing the ravines on tiers of lofty arches, and winding in and out with the indentations and projections of the shore. Passing several small villages^ we reached an elevated terrace, on the point of a small promontory, over- looking the Piano di Sorrento. It is a broad table-land, bounded on one side by the Bay of Naples, and on the three others by precipitous mountains, separated from it by a deep and narrow ravine. It is evident from the form of the surrounding hills, and from the nature of the soil, that its entire area is the bed of an ancient crater. I have never seen any thing comparable to it in fertility. Orange and lemon trees, loaded with golden fruit, overhang the road; the fig tree stretches out its crooked arms at the height of fifty or sixty feet ; the gray olive soars upward like a cypress, overshadowing the tallest dwellings ; while the grape-vine, interlacing the lofty branches, or hanging in festoons from tree to tree, runs riot over all. We drove into the town, and found a pleasant home at the Villa Nardi, embosomed in a dense grove of lemon, and orange, and pomegranate, on the very brink of the bay, whose waters chafe the base of the precipice three hundred feet below the walls. As soon as we could the next morning, we went forth on an exploring expedition among the antiquities of Surrentum. The ancient aqueduct, repaired by Antoninus Pius, still supplies the people with water from the mountains, and is remai-kable for the musical echo of its vaults. With this exception, there are very few remains of the former city — a few arches-, and grottoes, and massive substructions, which they call the Temple of Neptune, the Temple of Ceres, the Temple of the Syrens, the Caves of Ulysses, the villa of Pollius Felix, the shattered walls of some nameless baths, and the mouldering corridors of a supposed amphitheatre. This was the native city of Torquato Tasso, and the house in THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 217 which he was born is still standing, and occupied as an albergo. In a small piazza near the middle of the town, we met with a curious relic of Egyptian art — a headless kneel- ing statue of black marble, dating from the reign of Sethos, the father of Ramses the Second, more than fifteen centuries before the birth of Christ. Capo di Sorrento — a small promontory just west of the city — is covered with Roman remains ; foundation walls of large stone, and reticulated brick-work ; ruined chambers, with relics of faded frescoes and broken mosaics ; — extending over a large area, and visible beneath the transparent waves. In our walk we met men and women carrying large baskets of lemons and oranges upon their heads, and saw great heaps of the golden fruit in storehouses, awaiting exportation. The streets are narrow and dirty, and the inhabitants much like those of La Cava and Amain; yet Sorrento seems to be almost as much fre- quented now, as when the Roman patricians had their villas here, and Antoninus and Augustus came to inhale new health from its balmy climate. One of the greatest curiosities we saw at Sorrento was a piece of poetry, engraved on a slab of marble inserted in the outer wall of a church. The lines began and ended alter- nately with the words croce and cuore. The following is, as nearly as possible, with the preservation of the measure and peculiar form of the original, a literal translation : Cross, most adored ! to thee I give my heart : Heart I have not, except to love the cross. Cross, thou hast won my wayward, alien heart : Heart, thou hast owned the triumph of the cross. Cross, tree of life ! to thee I nail my heart : Heart cannot live, that lives not on the cross. Cross, be thy blood the cleansing of my heart : Heart, be thy blood an offering to the cross. 10 218 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Cross, thou shalt have the homage of my heart : Heart, thou shalt be the temple of the cross. Cross, blest is he who yields to thee his heart : Heart, rest secure, who cleavest to the cross. Cross, key of heaven, open every heart : Heart, every heart, receive the holy cross. A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 219 CHAPTER XVII. A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. PUNTA ' DI POSILIPO BAGNOLI NISIDA POZZUOLI MONTE NUOVO LAGO D'AVERNO VIEW FROM THE CLIFF CUM.E BAMS PROMON- TORIUM MISENUM THE SOLFATARA LAGO D'AGNANO — GROTTA DEL CANE — FUORIGROTTA FRIGHTFUL ASSAULT CASERTA CAPUA ADIEU TO NAPLES. The road from Naples, around the Punta di Posilijyo, to Bagnoli, and thence along the coast to Pozzuoli and the classical localities of Baiee and the Misenian Promontory, is full of interest to one who has an eye for the beautiful, or any reverence for antiquity. Who will not pause a moment as he passes the little church of Santa Maria, when he learns that it occupies the probable site of the ancient Pharos? The shore beyond is everywhere lined with ruins of Roman villas, of tombs and temples, baths and theatres. The tufa hills are pierced with tunnels and canals, which date from the days of the Emperors. The headlands and islands are covered with massive fragments of reticulated masonry. You ride over broken marbles, and prostrate columns look up to you from beneath the translucent waters. Parts of this coast seem to have sunk, submerging the relics of imperial grandeur in the sea ; while other portions, espe- cially those farther westward, have been elevated fifteen or twenty feet above their ancient level ; an effect nowise to be 220 A YEAR IN EUROPE. wondered at, when we recollect the frequent volcanic con- vulsions of this whole district in the twelfth and sixteenth centuries. Here is a miserable hamlet, called Bagnoli, the first we reach upon this classic coast. It consists of only three or four houses, with two warm mineral springs. This was the birthplace of Sebastiano Bartolo, the reputed inventor of the thermometer. The grand villa of Vedius Pollio was situated here ; and you may still see the artificial ponds, built of brick, and faced with pozzolana, where, according to Dion and Seneca, he fed his immense eels with human flesh. During a feast which he gave to Augustus, a slave accident- ally broke a valuable glass, for which his master ordered him to be thrown to his fishes; but the Emperor arrested the inhuman mandate, and directed all the glass vessels of the villa to be cast into the ponds instead of the slave. That bluff island, standing like a tower in the sea, now called Nisita, is the ancient Nisida. Thither Brutus fled after the assassination of Caesar. There he parted with his faithful Porcia, when he sailed for Greece. There Cicero conferred with Pompey, and wrote several of his letters to Atticus. There Lucullus had a princely villa, the ruins of which form the foundations of a lazzaretto and a prison. Our next point, and the only town on the Bay of Baise, is Pozzuoli, the ancient Puteoli, where Paul tarried a week on his way to Rome. The modern inhabitants, however, seem to think much more of San Genaro than of Paul. He is their patron god. It is a most filthy and miserable place ; and the people look as if they might all be bought for a piastre apiece ; and at half that price the purchaser would probably make a bad bargain. It was anciently, however, a town of considerable commerce, a favorite resort of the Roman patricians and Emperors ; and Cicero, in one of his orations, describes it as "a little Rome." This was the A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 221 scene of the last debaucheries and miserable death of Sjlla. There is little now to be seen of its architectural glory. What Alaric and Grenseric left, was shaken to pieces by earthquakes, and the very fragments submerged in the encroaching sea. When partially restored, it was again spoiled by the Saracens and the Turks, and overwhelmed with volcanic scoria. There are two statues here, as old as the time of the Caesars ; albeit, one of them has lost his ancient head, and wears a modern substitute. Here also are the broken columns of the beautiful temple of Jupiter Sera- pis, which was one of the very finest in Italy, and perhaps more richly adorned with marbles and mosaics than any other of its age. And here are the massive Temple of Nep- tune, and the Temple of the Nymphs, both submarine at present; a temple to Juno, another to Diana, another to Antinous, all doubly ruined; one to Augustus, partially pre- served, extensively repaired, and transformed into a cathe- dral ; a noble amphitheatre, with baths, reservoirs, aque- ducts, mouldering tombs, and many nameless ruins, which the antiquary labors in vain to identify. A little beyond the town, beaten by the everlasting surf, are the remains of Cicero's Puteolan Villa, which he dignified with the name of Academic/,, and esteemed so highly for its delightful promenade along the shore — the place of Hadrian's burial, whence he was subsequently removed to his grand mauso- leum at Rome, the present Castel Sant' Angelo. Immediately on the coast, a mile and a half west of Pozzuoli, is Monte Nuovo, thrown up by volcanic force in 1538. The eruption was preceded by violent convulsions, which upheaved the whole coast, and drove the sea " two hundred paces" within its ancient boundary. These were succeeded by a dense volume of smoke and steam. Then followed enormous jets of hot water and black mud, which fell in a destructive deluge. Next, the new crater, with 222 A YEAR IN EUROPE. tremendous explosive noises, cast up immense masses of red hot pumice, amid a cloud of fiery ashes. Some of the stones, which are described by two eye-witnesses as being " larger than an ox," were hurled a mile and a half high, and then fell back into the glowing orifice. The ashes covered the surrounding country, and were carried one hun- dred and fifty miles by the wind. Birds fell dead upon the field, suffocated by the noxious gases ; and many men and animals, in the immediate neighborhood of the volcano, were killed by the falling pumice. The eruption lasted only three days, but during its continuance it formed a mountain nearly two miles in circumference, and four hundred and fifty feet in altitude. As soon as it ceased, Toledo ascended the mountain, and found a circular crater, full of liquid fire, in which the stones that had fallen were boiling up as in a great caldron of melted metal. Since that the mountain has remained quiescent, and is now overgrown with trees and brushwood. The crater is a cavity, with steep walls, a quarter of a mile in circumference, and nearly as deep as the bottom of the mountain. A little farther west is the Lago d'Averno. Here is the Sybil's Bath, still warm and comfortable, in a dismal grotto, within a deeply wooded glen. It is here .ZEneas is first in- troduced to the prophetess, and conducted down into the realm of spirits. Reader, have you the curiosity or the courage to follow him ? Passing the outer grotto, we enter a dark avenue, winding under low arches. Here a stout Italian, in stockings such as Adam wore in Eden, takes you upon his back, and bears you through the tepid water into a gloomy chamber. The smoke of the torches, however, which are necessary to make the darkness visible, is not very agree- able to weak lungs and tender eyes. I think iEneas, with all the superstition of his time, must have been something of a hero. And did the Carthaginian general descend into CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 223 this dismal hole to sacrifice to Pluto ? It is scarcely to be supposed that the Sybil herself dwelt perpetually in this pitchy night. Here is an ancient passage, now closed up by a mass of fallen rock, which no doubt led to better apart- ments. Very likely the cunning sorceress had subterranean galleries known only to herself and a few interested persons. There appears at least to have been an underground commu- nication with Cumse on the north, and Lake Lucrinus on the south. Her palace, if such it was, on the heights above us, is now occupied as a stable ; and if you go there to con- sult the oracle, you will probably get a response from a calf, a goat, or a donkey. Agrippa felled the surrounding forest, and cut a canal from Avernus to the Lucrine, and another thence to the Bay of Baise ; by which means the waters of the lakes were reduced to the level of the sea, and a spacious harbor formed for the Boman fleet. The eruption of Monte Nuovo filled up this canal, and half the Lucrine ; and where the ships of Agrippa once rode at anchor is now a dank copse of myrtles, and a marsh overgrown with reeds, and tenanted by innumerable wild ducks. From the hill above Avernus one gets a fine view of the queenly Cumse on its " sea-girt cliffs;" once immensely rich, and deemed impregnable ; now a mass of indistinguishable ruins. The Arco Felice was probably the gate on this side ; and a few columns, half buried in the soil, possibly belonged to the temple of Apollo. There the valiant Xenocrita won her immortality ; and Sempronius Tiberius Gracchus bravely repelled the attack of Hannibal ; and Tarquinius Superbus, expelled from his throne, lived and died in exile. Beyond is Lago di Licolo, by which Nero would have connected the Avernus with the distant Tiber ; and farther north, the Sacred Grove, celebrated for its nocturnal sacrifices, and for the treachery and subsequent massacre of the Campanians ; and still farther, the Lago di Patria, with its solitary tower, 224 A YEAR IN EUROPE. marking the site of Liternum, the scene of the voluntary exile and melancholy end of Scipio Africanus. On the other hand, toward the southwest, are the remains of Cicero's Gumsean Villa among the hills, where the orator received the young Octavius — the future Emperor Augus- tus — on his return from school in Macedonia. No traces are found of the villas of Varro and Seneca; but here are the ruins of that of Servilius Vatia, to which he retired from the perils of public life during the reign of Nero. And here is Virgil's Acheron, now called Lago cli Fusaro, sur- rounded with antique funereal monuments, and abounding in what is better — the finest oysters in Italy. You will find a Charon ready to ferry you, soul and body, over the flood ; and a pretty casino beyond, where you may dine on fish which you select while swimming about in their native ele- ment; and the accompaniment of maccaroni and genuine Falernian, added to the bivalvular testacea aforesaid, will fui'nish you a fare by no means despicable. Nothing could be more beautiful than the approach to Baiae from the Lucrine Lake. The shore is crowded with instructive ruins ; and masses of crumbling masonry, broken columns and cornices, elaborate mosaic pavements, and frag- ments of precious marbles, cover the hills to their summits. There towers the castle of Toledo over the beach, and here a finely paved street is visible beneath the waves. The palaces of Csesar and Lentulus have perished; but the Picina Mirabilis, built to water the Roman fleet at Misenum, still remains as perfect as when it was first constructed. Here are the hot baths of Nero, where you can get an egg boiled for a carlina. The Via Herculea may still be traced by the eye ; but the giant could not travel it now without wading in several feet of water. Among these shattered heaps, could they be identified, we might find fragments of the villa of Cornelia, daughter of Scipio Africanus, and mother A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 225 of the Gracchi ; where, like her noble father at Internum, she ended her days in voluntary exile ; also of that in which Octavia resided after the death of Marc Antony, and her son Marcellus died ; and that in which Tiberius was suffo- cated by the captain of his Pretorians, and Nero planned the murder of his mother; and that in which Piso listened to the conspirators against the tyrant, and afterward avoided the imperial vengeance by suicide. The port of Misenum, where Augustus, Anthony, and the younger Pompey held their conference, is now the Mare Morto, and well deserves its name. Virgil's Amplum Elysium is a richly cultivated plain, covered with vineyards and gardens; and the road which runs through it is lined with ancient tombs. The Monte cli Procida is a noble headland, and the Promonto- rium Misenum rises like a pyramid from the margin of the sea. On its southern side is the Grotta Dragonara, a long and intricate subterranean passage, containing five galleries, with a vaulted roof resting on twelve pilasters, of which the origin and the use are not yet determined by the antiquaries. It is here that Virgil drowns the trumpeter of .ZEneas by the agency of a triton. This whole region is now a vast soli- tude, presenting a perfect contrast to its appearance in the days of imperial Rome, when Puteoli was the Saratoga of the luxurious Italians, and Baife was their Baden-Baden. Hither in those days resorted the wealth, the pride, and the beauty of the Eternal City ; wit, genius, eloquence, and philosophy followed ; and to popularity succeeded profligacy, and infamy, and ruin ! Just behind Pozzuoli is the old volcano, called the Solfa- tara. The earth is everywhere full of sulphur, and jets of sulphurous vapor rise from a thousand crevices. And here is the evident bed of the ancient crater, with the opening in its southeastern wall, whence flowed the fiery steam into the sea at the end of the twelfth century. It is a level area 10* 226 A YEAR IN EUROPE. now, surrounded by broken bills, and overgrown witb myr- tle, and arbutos, and tbe wbite-belled heatber. Tbere is a place which emits a respectable volume of smoke, with a deep murmuring sound, when Vesuvius is clear and quiet ; but all this ceases as soon as the old fire-king resumes his action. In a neighboring ravine one hears a noise, as of boiling water, in the hollow caverns of the mountain; and a little farther down, a torrent, at boiling heat, is actually gush- ing from a chasm in the rock. The ground is hot, and resounds to tbe tread; and numerous fumeroli give out large quantities of sulphuretted hydrogen gas. Every thing betokens au abyss of fire beneath. A short distance to the east of the Solfatara, between it and the heights of Posilipo, lies the beautiful Lago d'Agnano, a sheet of water three miles in circumference, occupying the crater of an extinct volcano, and covering the remains of a ruined villa. The lake is alive with various wild-fowl, and surrounded with luxuriant vegetation ; but the constant exhalation of warm vapors, impregnated with noxious gases, generates malaria, and renders it a dangerous resort. On its banks the subterranean forces play some singular freaks. In the Grotta del Cane torches expire as well as dogs, and you cannot fire a pistol within a foot of the bottom. Tbe white vapor lies like a napkin extended in the air, about fourteen inches from the ground, supported by a layer of car- bonic acid gas. The deadly current flows over the thresh- old like a stream, and may be traced by a chemical test some distance along the surface of the earth. The hardiest terrier will not live in it more than five minutes ; and a ser- pent, which I believe survives longer than any other animal that has been tried, not more than ten. A man standing erect is safe, for the destructive agent does not rise above his knees ; but if he stoops, so as to inhale it ; he is imme- A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 227 diately stupefied ; and if he dashes a handful of it up into his face, it produces a sensation like that of brisk soda- water. The grotto was once used as a place of execution for criminals, who were shut up within its walls, and left to die of suffocation. A neighboring cavern is impregnated with ammonia; in which, if an animal is immersed, it lives but a few seconds. Half a mile north of the Lago d'Agnano, overlooking the Phlegrean Fields, is Astroni, the most spacious and most perfect of all the volcanic craters in the district. Its rim, four miles in circuit, is entirely unbroken, except in one place", where an opening has been cut for an entrance. Its bottom is a beautiful park, full of stately ilexes, and encir- cled by a carriage drive. Here wild animals are kept for the sport of the royal household, and a high wall is built around to prevent their escape. In this grand amphitheatre Alfonso the First, in the fifteenth century, gave a magnificent enter- tainment to thirty thousand people, in honor of the marriage of his niece — Eleanor of Aragon — to the Emperor Frederick the Third. Returning to Naples, we pass through the village of Fuorigrotta — -Beyond the (xrotto — so called from its situa- tion with reference to the Grotta di Posilipo. Here sleeps the poet Giacomo Leopardi ; and a simple monument in the porch of the little Church of San Vitale indicates the place of his repose. "Qualche cosa, Signori ! Qualche cosa per carita ! Qualche cosa per Vamore di Dio !" Verily, the whole population must be lazzaroni ; and they are all after us, men, women, and children ! Mount, mount, and ride for life ! it is the only way of escape ! But in the dismal Grotta they overtake us; and a Qualche cosa per carita" with the names of "Maria Santissima," and "San Genaro," and every other saint in the calendar, fol- low us into the subterranean a, loom ! The few carlini we 228 A YEAR IN EUROPE. are able to spare procure us no relief. The clamor continues, and waxes louder as we advance, till echo makes it deafen- ing, and darkness makes it terrible. But here is the day- light again, and we escape safe to Naples. Ancient Capua we have not yet seen. An hour or two by strada /errata will take us thither. We have another day to spare, and how can it be better improved? Caserta lies in our way, and we shall see the most imposing of all the palaces of His Neapolitan Majesty. Well, here it is — a stupendous pile, uniting four cubes upon a square base, any one of which might serve as the abode of a king. The sur- rounding grounds are exceedingly fine, and afford views of most romantic beauty. Nothing could be more picturesque than the crumbling walls and bastions of the old Lombard city, whose isolated gables and gaunt arches, on their hill of emerald, admit the blue sky through the rents of ruin. Here is also an artificial waterfall, descending from a lofty ridge, over accommodating rocks, into a broad basin, full of disporting life. This is advantageously seen from the entrance of the palace, through a portico which pierces its entire depth, several hundred feet long. Part of the old feudal forest is still standing, upon the height beyond the ancient town; and its majestic oaks, if not the very same, are at least the descendants of those which flourished there a thousand years ago. This paradise is nearly twenty miles from Naples, and has long been the favorite summer resi- dence of the royal family. Farewell, Caserta ! Twenty minutes more bring us to the ancient city of the Vulturnum. Its modern representative has about twenty thousand inhabitants; but the Capua so wretchedly helped by Hannibal, numbered not less than three hundred thousand. Her ambition was her ruin, and her alliance with the foe of Koine brought down upon her the full weight of Roman vengeance. In the time of her A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 229 extremity, the Carthaginian proved "a broken reed;" and the conqueror, who knew no mercy, made her palaces a slaughter-house. After lying a long time enslaved and half- ruined, she found grace in the sight of the Caesars, and re- gained something of her former magnificence ; but the Goth, the Vandal, and the Lombard came, and Capua fell with her ancient conqueror. There are now to be traced the fragments of its walls, five or six miles in circuit ; with the towers of its seven gates, through which as many roads lead out in different directions to the Campania. There is the pavement of the Via Appia, lying through the centre of the ruins; and the Porta Jovis, pointing to the site of the temple of Jupiter on Mons Tafata. But the most remark- able thing there is the Amphitheatre, the oldest perhaps in Italy, and the pattern after which all others were modelled. Three of its corridors are almost perfect, and the remains of two more are seen beyond them. This place, according to Cicero, was capable of accommodating a hundred thou- sand spectators — more than twice the entire population of Charleston. This was our last excursion in Southern Italy. The time came when we must bid adieu to Naples. Never did I leave any other place with so much regret; we had seen so many beautiful things, and still left so many interesting localities unvisited. We had not been to Psestum, to Capri, to Ischia, to Procida ; and I must depart without the hope of ever beholding them even in the dim distance again. I should like to have spent a whole week at Pompeii, and to have climbed the rough scoria of Vesuvius daily for a month ; but time will not tarry for the traveller, and his money is fleeter than his moments. Bills are settled, baggage is on board the steamer, and a little boat is bearing us out into the open bay. An hour of sad, last, long, lingering looks; and the anchor is lifted, and wc are away. Farewell, sweet 230 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Napoli ! My sojourn with thee has been one protracted throb of joy, and my soul has drunk in continual streams of pleasure through every sense. Farewell ! never again shall I behold thy beautiful shores. Farewell, Posilipo ! never again shall I enter thy ancient Gratia, or walk thy classic heights. And thou, dread Mountain, great Preacher of " the wrath to come I" lift up thy voice, and publish to deceivers and deceived " the day of the Lord that shall burn as an oven !" but never more shall these ears hear thy awful prophecy, nor these feet tread the crusted surface of thy " lake of fire !" Surely, no city needs less of architectural magnificence or internal attractions than Naples. With fewer of these, indeed, it would be a most desirable residence — so charming- its scenery, so balmy its atmosphere, so blue its waters, and so bright its sky ! Before it spreads the sea, with bays, islands, and promontories almost worthy of Paradise; be- hind it rise romantic hills, clothed with fruitful vineyards, and ever-blooming gardens, and groves of living green. Every morning a gale from the Mediterranean brings health and refreshment on its wings, and tempers the fervid day to pleasure ; every evening a breeze from the campania comes laden with the perfumes of flowers and the songs of nightin- gales, filling the darkness with fragrance and with melody ! THE CRADLE AND THRONE OF ROME. 231 CHAPTER XVIII. THE CRADLE AND THE THRONE OP ROME. THE PALATINE AND THE DOMUS AUREA PRESENT APPEARANCE THE CAPITOL ITS DESTRUCTION ITS RESTORATION TEMPLE OF JUPITER ITS INFLUENCE AND UTILITY PRESENT BUILDINGS FORUM RO- MANUM JULIAN FORUM AUGUSTAN FORUM FORUM OF NERVA FORUM OF TRAJAN FORA VENALIA TEMPLE OF PEACE FLAVIAN AMPHITHEATRE. A stormy night on the Mediterranean, with something more than our equitable share of sea-sickness, and we are again at Civita Vecchia the despicable ; where we are doomed to spend twenty-four hours, in no very neat hotel, at no very moderate charges. The next morning — bills rendu, baggage plonibe, passports vis6, sundry paoli paid to waiters, facchini, commissionaires, and custom-house officials, besides a dollar to the ever-needy American consul, and all our carlini and bajocchi to the importunate lazzaroni — at pre- cisely " past thirty minutes half nine," as our Italian host most intelligibly expressed it — we were en route by vettura for Rome ; and about eight in the evening we greeted our friend, His Holiness, again in " The Capital of the Chris- tian World;" not Pio Nono the livery servant, who once upon a time, in some degree of excitement, went by dili- gence, on an important errand, to Gaeta ; but a very placid and amiable Pio Nono, who stands upon a pedestal in one corner of our little parlor, smiling benevolently upon the 232 A YEAR IN EUROPE. forestieri, and fearless of insurrection from the faithful. All bail, thrice reverend Rome ! however impoverished by the rapacity of tby priesthood, and degraded by the tyranny of superstition, yet consecrated by the memory of the good, the sepulchres of the great, and the struggles of the brave ! To all true souls, thou must ever be venerable and sacred ! An inexpressible solemnity reigns upon tby seven hills, and the spirits of sages, heroes, and martyrs hover over the wrecks of tby perished glory ! And now for a leisurely sur- vey of all that is impressive in the mouldering relics of the Rome that was ; and whatever is grand, gorgeous, or beauti- ful, in the Rome that flourishes upon her tomb. Let us first to the ancient nucleus, the Palatine and the Capitoline Hills, the cradle and the throne of empire. The humbler structures reared by Romulus gave place to the palace of the Caesars ; and the eminence which had borne a city was found too small for the residence of a single man. The buildings erected by Augustus were enlarged and beautified by Tiberius and Caligula. Then came Nero with his Domus Atirea, which extended over the neighboring Coelean, and covered the intervening valley. To this structure the world has never seen a parallel. Its rooms were lined with gold and mother-of-pearl, adorned with a profusion of sparkling gems. The ceiling of the dining- saloons was formed of ivory panels, so contrived as to scat- ter flowers and shower perfumes upon the guests. The principal banqueting-hall revolved upon itself, representing the revolutions of the firmament. The baths were supplied with salt water from the sea, and mineral water from the Aqua Albula. In the vestibule of the palace stood the colossal statue of the Emperor, a hundred and twenty feet high. There were three porticoes, each a mile in length, and supported by three rows of lofty pillars. The garden con- tained lakes and fountains, groves and vineyards, herds of THE CRADLE AND THRONE OF ROME. 233 cattle, enclosures of wild beasts, and clusters of buildings resembling towns. Here the luxurious fiend found himself " lodged almost like a man." But he fell, and went " to his own place." Vespasian and Titus demolished that part of the palace which extended beyond the Palatine. Domitian enlarged and decorated it, and Septimius Severus added the magnificent Septizonium. This consisted of seven porticoes, supported by pillars of the finest marble, and rising one above another, in the form of a pyramid, to a prodigious ele- vation. In consequence of its great solidity and strength, it survived the disasters of the city, and suffered less during the triumph of barbarism than most other public edifices of ancient Rome. Three stories remained entire at so late a period as the reign of Sixtus Quintus, who took its pillars to adorn the basilica of Saint Peter, and demolished the rest of the building. Alas ! all the monuments of Roman power and splendor, so dear to the artist, the historian, and the antiquary, depend upon the will 'of an arbitrary sove- reign ; and that will is influenced too often by interest, ambi- tion, vanity, or superstition. Such rapacity is a crime against all ages and all generations; depriving the past of the tro- phies of its genius, and the title-deeds of its fame ; the pre- sent, of the noblest objects of curiosity, and the strongest motives to exertion ; the future, of the most admirable mas- terpieces of art, and the most perfect models for imitation. To guard against the repetition of such depredations, must be the desire of every man of genius, the duty of every man in authority, and the common interest of the whole civilized world. The palace of the Caesars is now a heap of ruins, nearly two miles in circuit, of which it is impossible even to make out the plan. Its area is covered with a rich soil, from fif- teen to thirty feet deep, in which potatoes, artichokes, and cauliflowers flourish with great luxuriance. There are two 234 A YEAR IN EUROPE. villas upon the top, and a prosperous convent. I have walked around its base, and over its gardens, and through its crumb- ling arches and subterranean corridors, till its mournful spirit took possession of my soul, and I could have wept for the fall of the imperial glory. On the southern and western sides of the hill are immense fragments — some of huge rec- tangular blocks, pointing to the times of the Republic; and others of opus reticulatum, indicating their imperial origin — all overgrown with weeds and briers, amidst which the wild hare makes her home, and the serpent and the lizard sun them- selves without fear. Deep under ground, at the northern angle of the eminence, looking toward the forum and the capitol, is a set of vast arches, now occupied as a stable ; in passing through which I came near being torn to pieces by a furious dog, and eaten up by fleas. About a century and a half ago, an immense hall was uncovered, which had long lain concealed beneath its own ruins ; but its pillars, statues, mosaics, and precious marbles were immediately removed by the Farnese family, who owned the soil, to enrich their galleries and beautify their palaces. The Capitoline was originally a precipitous hill, covered with a dense grove of trees ', and from the very foundation of Rome, regarded with awe and veneration as the abode of celestial powers. "Some god they knew — what god they could not tell — Did there amid the sacred horror dwell: The Arcadians called him Jove, and said they saw The mighty Thunderer, with majestic awe; Who shook his shield, and dealt his bolts around, And scattered tempests o'er the teeming ground." This superstition doubtless led to the subsequent glorious destination of the place. Romulus consecrated it by erect- ing the Temple of Jupiter Feretrius ; and the kings, consuls, and emperors added structures of a solidity and magnificence THE CRADLE AND THRONE OP ROME. 235 which, says Tacitus, the wealth of succeeding ages might adorn, but could not increase. Thus it became both a fortress, frowning defiance on the foes of Rome ; and a sanctuary, crowded with altars and temples, the repository of the fatal oracles, and the seat of the tutelar deities of the Empire. Twice the buildings were destroyed by fire; first in the civil wars between Marius and Sylla, and afterward in the dreadful contest between the partisans of Vitellius and Vespasian. Tacitus deplores this event as "the most lament- able and most disgraceful calamity that ever happened to the Roman people." But the Capitol rose once more from its ashes, more splen- did and majestic than ever; and received from the munifi- cence of Vespasian, and of his sou Domitian, its last and richest embellishments. On its two extremities stood the Temples of Jupiter Feretrius and Jupiter Custos, flanked by those of Fortune and Fides, and of other inferior divini- ties. In the centre, crowning the majestic pyramid, rose high over all the residence of Jupiter Capitolinus, the guard- ian of the Empire, on a hundred steps, supported by a hundred pillars, adorned with all the refinements of art, and blazing with the plunder of the world. Within the splen- did fane, with Juno on his left and Minerva on his right, sat the Thunderer on a throne of gold, grasping the light- ning in one hand, and with the other wielding the sceptre of universal dominion. The walls glittered with jewelled crowns and various weapons of war — the offerings of empe- rors and conquerors — the spoils of vanquished and subju- gated nations. The portals flamed with gems and gold ; and pediment, niches, and roof teemed with the costliest treas- ures. The building was covered with bronze, the mere gilding of which amounted to the enormous sum of fifteen millions of dollars — an item which, perhaps more readily 236 A YEAR IN EUROPE. than any other, suggests the incalculable wealth of this Throne of Empire and Religion. Hither the consuls were conducted by the senate, to assume the military dress, and implore the favor of the gods, before they marched to battle. Hither the victorious generals used to repair in triumph, to present the spoils and royal captives they had taken, and offer hecatombs to " Tarpeian Jove." Here, in case of danger and distress, the senate assembled, and the magistrates convened, to deliberate in the presence and under the immediate influence of the tutelar gods of Rome. Here the laws were exhibited to public inspection, as if under the sanction of the divinity; and here also they were deposited, as if intrusted to his guardian care. Manlius, as long as he could extend his arm, and fix the attention of the people upon the Capitol which he had saved, suspended his fatal" sentence. Caius Gracchus melted the hearts of his audience, when he pointed to the Capitol, and asked with all the em- phasis of despair, whether he could hope to find an asylum in that sanctuary whose pavement still streamed with the blood of his brother. Scipio Africanus, when accused by an envious faction, and obliged to appear before the people as a criminal, instead of answering the charge, turned to the Capitol, and invited the assembly to accompany him to the Temple of Jupiter, and give thanks to the gods for the defeat of the Carthaginian invader. And to the Capitol Cicero turned his hands and his eyes when he closed his first oration against Catiline with that noble address to Jupiter, presiding there over the destinies of the Empire, and doom- ing its enemies to destruction. Such was the solemn inter- est of this consecrated eminence, the awe which it inspired in the Romaji mind, and the influence which it exerted over the populace, that the poets, orators, and historians of Rome are constantly referring to the Capitol as the most sacred THE CRADLE AND THRONE OP ROME 237 locality in the world, and appealing to the gods who were supposed to dwell there as the guardians of their favored city. The hill is now occupied by three fine palaces, designed by Michael Angelo, but vastly inferior to those which adorned it in imperial times. It is ascended from the modern city on the northern side, by a long broad flight of steps, at the top of which are the ancient statues of Castor and Pollux holding their horses. Here you enter upon a spacious square, with the mansion of the Roman senator in front, two large buildings with fine porticoes on the right and left, and in the centre the noble equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, which originally stood in the forum. The palace of the senator — there is but one Roman senator now, and he is nothing more than a name and a fine carriage — is a tall and unattractive edifice, with Corinthian pilasters, heavy grated windows, and a campanile as ugly as it is elevated. In this tower is an immense clock and several bells. One of the latter, which is very large, is rung only at the begin- ning and the end of the Carnival, and the inauguration and death of the Pope. The view from the top is the finest that can anywhere be enjoyed of the limits and ruins of the ancient city. In the basement of the building is the lately excavated Tabular ium, where were preserved of old the archives of the Empire. The other two buildings contain an immense collection of busts, statues, bas-reliefs, sarco- phagi, galleries of paintings, and numerous relics of Repub- lican and Imperial Rome. Here is the only authentic statue of Julius Caesar. Here is the most beautiful Venus in the world. Here is the she-wolf of bronze, scarred with the thunder of Jove. Here are all the emperors, orators, heroes, sages, and poets of Rome, and the chief celebrities of Greece, immortalized in marble. In short, the Capitol is consecrated no longer to the tutelar divinities of the city; 238 A YEAE IN EUROPE. but to her arts, to the remains of her grandeur, the monu- ments of her genius, and her high-sounding hut empty titles. At the foot of the Capitoline, on the southeast, looking toward the Coliseum, lie the august fragments of the Forum Romanum, where foreign monarchs trembled in their chains, and thousands hung breathless on the lips of Cicero. In the days of its gloi*y, with its grand and gorgeous environ- ment of temples and statues, porticoes and palaces, it pre- sented one of the most imposing exhibitions that ever greeted the e3^e of man. Nothing remains but its ruins. The naked wall of the rostra stands there, stripped of its mar- ble, and silent for ever. This, with the column of Phocus in front, the arch of Septimius Severus at one end, eight Doric pillars of granite at the other, three elegant Corinthian shafts in the rear, a patch of the massive pavement of the Via Sacra, a few fragments of variegated marble, broken capitals and cornices, and heaps of solidly cemented brick- work, about which antiquaries quarrel in vain, is nearly all that is left to remind the stranger that here once stood the pride of the Roman people, the theatre of immortal elo- quence, the centre of imperial power. To crown its ruin and complete its degradation, it is now the common rendez- vous of cattle, and called the Campo Vaccino, or Cow-field. Rome grew, and the crowds that flocked to the public assemblies increased, and in course of time the forum was found too small for their accommodation. But its limits could not be enlarged, for it was encircled with buildings whose demolition would have been sacrilege, and consecrated by omens, and auguries, and the fame of heroic deeds. Julius Caesar therefore, without violating its dignity or destroying its preeminence, took upon himself the popular charge of providing the Roman people with another, which, after him. was called the Julian. The ground itself cost THE CRADLE AND THRONE OP ROME. 239 about four millions and a half of our money. It was on the eastern side of the Roman Forum, and connected with it. In its centre stood the temple of Venus Genetrix, and in front the bronze statue of Caesar's favorite horse. It was here that he first offended the Roman people, by receiving the senators sitting in front of the temple, when they had come to him in solemn state. There is nothing of this forum remaining that can be identified. Adjacent to this Augustus erected another, lined with a magnificent portico, and enclosing the temple of Mars Ultor, whose stately columns — a mere fragment — constitute its sole remains. It was adorned with many bronze statues of the finest workmanship. Those on one side represented the Latin and Roman kings from .ZEneas down to Tarquinius Su- perbus ; and those on the other, the Roman heroes, all in triumphal robes. The base of each statue was inscribed with the history of the person whom it represented. In the centre stood the colossal Augustus, towering above all the rest. The Forum of Nerva was so named because it was finished by that Emperor, though it was begun by Domitian, his predecessor. Sometimes it was called the Forum Tran- sitorium, because it formed a connection between those already described and that which was afterward constructed by Trajan. Part of the wall which enclosed it still remains, and is one of the grandest ruins of ancient Rome ; with the front of the temple of Pallas Minerva which it encircled, whose fine Corinthian columns stand buried to half their height in the ground. The Forum of Trajan was last in date, but first in beauty. The splendor of these edifices was indeed progress- ive. The Julian is said to have surpassed the Roman ; the Augustan is described by Pliny as the most beautiful of all structures; yet it was afterward acknowledged inferior to 240 A TEAR IN EUROPE. that of Nerva; and the latter yielded in its turn to the matchless fabric of Trajan. This consisted of four porticoes, supported by pillars of the most beautiful marble, their roofs resting on brazen beams, and covered with brazen plates. It was paved with variegated marble, and adorned with numerous bronze statues. At one end stood a temple, at the other a triumphal arch ; on one side a basilica, on the other a public library ; in the centre the celebrated column, recording in bas-relief the history of Trajan, and crowned with his colossal statue. This column still stands entire, surrounded with many fragments of granite and marble pil- lars ; but the Galilean fishermen, with the keys, occupies the place of the Roman emperor at its summit. When Constantius first beheld this forum, he was struck dumb with astonishment; and Ammianus Marcellinus pronounced it unsurpassed beneath the sun, and admirable even in the estimation of the gods. These were the fora civilia, devoted to public matters relating to the welfare of the state. There were also fora venalia, which, as the name indicates, were merely places of trade. One of these, the Forum JBoarktm, is still iden- tified by the massive arch of Janus Quadrifrons, west of the Forum Romanum, and not far from the Tarpeian Pre- cipice. Midway between the Great Forum and the Coliseum, at the highest point of the Via Sacra, stands the Triumphal Arch of Titus, the most beautiful of all the Roman struc- tures of this character remaining. It was erected by the senate, in honor of the general who subdued Judea, and spoiled the Holy City. A little to the left of this, as you look toward the Coliseum, are seen three stupendous vaults — the remains of the Basilica of Constantine, built upon the ruins of the Temple of Peace. The latter was reared by Vespasian at the conclusion of the Jewish wars; and THE CRADLE AND THRONE OF ROME. 241 filled with the spoils of the temple at Jerusalem, and the chief wonders of art collected from all the provinces of the empire; so that, according to Josephus, it constituted the most splendid museum in the world. This gorgeously-fur- nished edifice was consumed by fire in the reign of the Em- peror Commodus; and its destruction, ascribed to the vengeance of the gods, was regarded as a melancholy omen to the empire. The popular sentiment was verified by the event ; for the fall of the Temple of Peace was followed by centuries of rebellion, convulsion, and disaster. The Coliseum, stripped, as it is, of its external decora- tions, and its very walls more than half-demolished, still astonishes and delights the beholder. I ranged through its lofty arcades, and trod its vaulted galleries, with ever- increasing wonder at the grandeur of its immense propor- tions. Around, beneath, above, was one vast spectacle of magnificence and devastation, of glory and decay — a mould- ering mass of ruined masonry, covered with weeds and shrubs, and sweet wall-flowers blossoming amid the stones which had been stained with the blood of the martyrs. Yet this mighty structure, "Which, on its public shows unpeopled Home, And held uncrowded nations," was erected by Vespasian and Titus out of part only of the materials, and on a small part of the area, of Nero's Grolden House. The Coliseum, owing to the solidity of its structure, sur- vived the era of barbarism ; and was so perfect in the thirteenth century, that games were celebrated in it for the amusement of the Roman public. Strange as it may appear, its destruc- tion was the fruit of Roman taste and vanity. When the city began to arise from its ruins, and a desire for fine archi- ll 242 A YEAR IN EUROPE. lecture began to revive, the wealthy citizens — princes, nobles, and cardinals — carried off its materials to build their own sumptuous palaces. It is said of Cardinal Farnese, that when erecting his most superb mansion, he requested permission of his uncle, who was Pope at the time, to pro- cure marble from the Coliseum. After much persuasion His Holiness granted the petition, limiting the privilege to twelve hours. Hereupon the wily cardinal turned into the building a force of four hundred men, and within the allotted time, furnished himself with all that he desired. Several other palaces — as the Barbarine, and I believe also the Doria — were constructed chiefly of stone from the same quarry. Probably the immense structure would have been totally demolished had not Benedict the Fourteenth arrested the process of destruction. Out of respect for the memory of the martyrs who had suffered there, he erected a cross in the centre of the arena, and declared the place sacred. This measure, two or three centuries earlier, would have preserved the grand fabric entire ; it can now only protect its remains, and transmit the ruined pile to posterity — a mere fragment of the Flavian Amphitheatre. The last time I passed it was on a Sabbath afternoon. I had always found a soldier on guard at the principal en- trance ; but now there were two, who crossed their bayonets as I approached them. When I urged my desire to enter, they shook their heads, and answered: "C'est impossible, Monsieur" I walked around without the wall; and, look- ing through one of the arches from the other side, dis- covered the reason why I had not been admitted : two French soldiers, stripped to the waist, were fighting a duel with swords. MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 248 CHAPTEK XIX. MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. MILLEARIUM AUREUM — VIA APPIA — OTHER ROMAN ROADS — CLOACiE — ■ AQUEDUCTS FOUNTAINS THERMiE OE DIOCLESIAN THERMiE OF TITUS THERMS OF CARACALLA THERMiE OP AGRIPPA, OF CON- STANTINE, OF ALEXANDER SEVERUS CIRCUS MAXIMUS CIRCUS OF MAXENTIUS TEMPLE OF QUIRINUS TEMPLE OF THE SUN POR- TICOES. In the Roman Forum, at the west end of the Rostrum, stood the pillar called the Millearium Aureum, on which were inscribed the distances from the Capitol to all the great cities of Italy and of the empire. At this column the Vise or military roads commenced, diverging in every direc- tion as they left the city, generally running in straight lines as nearly as possible, sometimes cut through the solid rock, and sometimes carried on lofty arches over broad valleys and deep ravines. They were the most remarkable high- ways ever constructed by any nation in any age. In process of time they were extended to the most distant parts of the empire, and formed a means of easy communication with its remotest provinces. The most famous of all these military roads was the Via Appia. This was begun by Appius Claudius more than three centuries before Christ. At first it terminated at Capua, but was subsequently continued to Brundusium. It was paved with solid blocks of basaltic lava, exceedingly 244 A YEAR IN EUROPE. smooth and hard. These blocks were not square, but poly- gonal, yet fitted together in the exactest manner. They were from two to three feet in breadth, and from one to two in thickness. The most interesting part of this road, from the tomb of Osecilia Metella to the Alban Hills, has been excavated during the reign of the present pope, under the direction of the eminent and indefatigable Roman archaeolo- gist, Commendatore Canina ; who, when the work was finished, in 1853, published an interesting account of it in two volumes, with detailed topographical plans, and restora- tions of the principal monuments. One fine morning in May, I procured a carriage, and we drove out eight miles on this ancient thoroughfare. Passing the Porta Sabastiano, we met a priest who spoke a little English, and asked him, as our vetturino seemed not to know, which was the way into the Via Appia. u yes," he replied, "it is very happy; you must not fear; it is quite safe for you." Thus encouraged, though little enlightened, we proceeded, but soon found that we were going astray, and were obliged to take a cross-road, which brought us to the Via Appia near the catacombs of San Sebastiano. From this point, for more than seven miles, it is a continuous street of tombs ; none of them entire, and most of them in utter ruin. Among the rest is one, near the fourth mile- stone, which Canina supposes to be that of Seneca, where he was murdered, by order of Nero, for his endeavors to reform his imperial pupil; and two near the fifth mile-stone, evi- dently more ancient than their neighbors, and somewhat Etruscan in their style, which he identifies as the sepulchres of the immortal Soratii and Curiatii. The largest of all these monuments is called Gasal Rotondo, about seven miles and a half beyond the city wall. It is built of small frag- ments of lava, imbedded in a strong cement; and was origin- ally encased in large blocks of travertine, and covered with MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 245 a conical roof. Travertine and conical roof, however, long since disappeared under the hand of the spoiler ; and there is now upon the top of it a farm-house, with outbuildings, and a garden of olives. It is not certain to whom this majestic mausoleum belonged, but an inscription discovered in the course of a late excavation has led to the belief that it was reared by Marcus Aurelius Messalinus Cotta, who was Con- sul in the twentieth year of our era, in honor of his father — the orator and poet, Messala Corvinus — the friend of Augus- tus and Horace, who died nine years before. If this opinion be correct, this monument was built to perpetuate the name of the dead, while he who "abolished death, and brought life and immortality to light through his gospel," was per- sonally upon the earth. What I have to say of the sepulchre of Ccecilia Metella I reserve for another chapter. The fragments of fine statuary and beautifully-wrought marbles, which lie scattered along the way, are truly a melancholy sight. In some places the road is actually macadamized with these fragments, which have been broken up for this purpose. Much of the dis- tance, however, the ancient pavement is nearly perfect, and here and there one sees something of the narrow sidewalk with its curbstones — the very pavement over which rolled the wheels of Augustus, and the very sidewalk trodden by the weary-footed Paul, " a prisoner of Jesus Christ," as he came to stand before his imperial pagan judge. The Via Aurelia was more extensive than the Via Appia. Reaching the Mediterranean coast at Alsium, it ran along the shore to Genoa, and thence to Forum Julium in Graul. Besides these, there were the Via Latina, the Via Labi- cana, the Via Collatina, the Via Prenestina, the Via Tiburtina, the Via Nomentana, the Via Carniola, the Via Veientana, the Via Solaria, the Via Flaminia, the Via Cassia, the Via Claudia, the Via Vitellea, the Via Lau- 246 A YEAR IN EUROPE.. rentina, the Via Ardeatina, the Via Portuensis, the Via Ostiensis, and perhaps several more. Most of these were constructed in the same manner as the Via Apjpia, though in some instances they were paved with large rectangular blocks of hewn stone, joined so closely as to appear but one continuous rock. These great military ways are among the most remarkable memorials of the Roman power. You meet with their remains in every direction across the wild cam- pagna; and some of them may still be traced a hundred miles from the capital. They have resisted alike the influ- ence of time, and the march of marshalled hosts, with the roll of triumphal chariots, and the heavy engines of war; and where they have not been torn up by human hands, or shaken to pieces by earthquakes, or undermined by torrents, they are as perfect now as they were two thousand years ago. Another of the most noticeable relics of ancient Rome — remarkable as well for its utility as its antiquity and solidity — is the Cloaca Maxima. This is an arched subterranean gallery, sixteen feet wide and thirty feet high, constructed in the reign of Tarquinius Superbus, for the purpose of draining the city. It was built by Etruscan hands, in the Etruscan style — that is, with large square blocks of Traver- tine, nicely fitted together without cramps or cement. So solid is the structure that it remains as perfect, after the chariot-wheels of twenty-four centuries have rolled over it, as it was in the day of its completion. Communicating with this great sewer were many smaller ones of like construction, also called Cloacse, carried under the city in every direction, sufficiently large for a boat or a loaded car to pass through them. To cleanse them, streams from the aqueducts were turned into them, and torrents rushed through them with a force which would soon have torn to pieces any ordinary masonry of our day, and swept MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 247 the fragments into the Tiber. Since the ruin of the aque- ducts, the expense of clearing them from time to time has been enormous, and on one occasion amounted to more than sis hundred thousand dollars. Notwithstanding the im- mense superincumbent weight of modern buildings and ancient ruins, these gigantic works for the chief part still remain entire, serving to drain the present as they did the former city, and exciting often in the tourist a wonder equal to that which they produced in the Grothic conqueror. Of all the ruins of imperial Rome, the most stupendous are the broken arches of its aqueducts. From the city wall you see them stretching away across the dreary campagna for six or seven miles ; and in some places, where they cross the little valleys, they are a hundred feet high. The origi- nal structures were of stone, but many of the additions and repairs are of brick. There were nine of these aqueducts on this side the Tiber, and three on the other. One of the nine conveyed the water more than sixty miles. Two of them were carried more than twenty miles, over these lofty arches. The others were partly subterranean. The first was built by Appius Claudius, as its name indicates, three hundred and eleven years before Christ. Two others dated from the days of the republic ; but the rest were all of im- perial origin. They were all broken and destroyed by the barbarians in the sixth century ; but three of them have been restored by the popes, and still serve to supply Rome with abundance of pure and salubrious water from the distant mountains. The streams from these aqueducts anciently flowed into large reservoirs, elevated on towers called Castella, whence it was distributed over the city. These towers were massive and solid structures, and some of them were very magnifi- cent, being faced with marble, and adorned with pillars and statuary. The number of public reservoirs, from their ex- 248 A YEAR IN EUROPE. tent and depth called lakes, is supposed to have been over a thousand. The fountains also were exceedingly numerous, and tastefully ornamented. Agrippa alone, according to Pliny, opened a hundred and thirty in one year, and beauti- fied them with three hundred statues of brass and marble. Strabo tells us that such a quantity of water was introduced into the city, that whole rivers seemed to flow through the streets and sewers ; and every house, by means of conduits and cisterns, was furnished with an unfailing supply. If the Glaudian aqueduct alone afforded eight hundred thousand tons of water a day, how copious must have been this grand provision for the popular convenience ! When the utility of these public works is considered, one does not wonder a,t their estimate by Frontonius, who preferred them to the idle bulk of the Egyptian pyramids, and to the more grace- ful though less profitable edifices of Greece. Only three of these aqueducts, I have said, are now in use ; yet Rome is better supplied, perhaps, with good water, than any other city in the world. Its streets, courts, and squares are adorned with numerous fountains ; not throwing up each a mere thread of water into the air, or distilling a few drops into a dirty basin ; but pouring forth magnificent jets and torrents, which never intermit nor diminish. The Fontana di Paolina, just under the brow of the Janiculum, is the source of three rivers, which drive a dozen flour-mills, and all the other machinery of the Trastevera. And there are several others — as the Fontana di Trevi in the centre of the city, that on the Quirinal, where Moses stands smiting the rock, the two in front of St. Peter's, and those of the Piazza Navona, of the Piazza di Spagna, of the Piazza del Popolo — which rival this in the grandeur of their arrange- ments, and the quantity of water which they yield. With the aqueducts and fountains of imperial Rome are naturally connected the Thermse, which ranked among the MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 249 most magnificent as well as the most useful of its architectu- ral wonders. There were at least sixteen public baths, sup- plied with hot and cold water, and open at all hours of the day. They differed in magnitude and in splendor, but all had some features in common. Besides the conveniences for bathing, they contained spacious halls for reading, decla- mation, gymnastic exercises, etc. These balls were lined and paved with marble, and adorned with the most valuable works of art. They were surrounded with groves, and gardens, and promenades, and combined every species of refined and manly amusement. One who looks upon the modern Romans must conclude that they have sadly degene- rated in respect of personal cleanliness since the days of Diocletian ; and we may well envy the ancients, who could enjoy, every day, without trouble or expense, scenes of splendor and luxury which the proudest monarch of the present age might in vain attempt to emulate. The Thermse of Diocletian, situated on lions Quirinalis, were the most extensive and the most magnificent in Rome. The buildings covered an area nearly a mile in circuit, and occupied forty thousand Christians in their construction. There are no ruins more grand and imposing witbin the walls of the city. One hall, nearly as large as St. Peter's, has been converted into a church, in the form of a Greek cross, after the designs of Michael Angelo. Tbe vaulted roof still retains the rings by which the ancient lamps were suspended, and eight lofty columns of oriental granite still stand in their original positions, though their bases are con- cealed by the elevation of the floor several feet above its for- mer level. Near this are the remains of a vast reservoir in nine compartments, and of several large saloons, with arches of immense span, now filled with hay, and tenanted by myriads of fleas. The Baths of Titus 7 enlarged and adorned by Domitian 11* 250 A YEAE IN EUROPE. and Trajan, stood upon the Esquiline, north of the Coliseum. They were of great extent and magnificence, though inferior to those of Diocletian. Parts of a temple, of a theatre, and of a capacious saloon, remain above ground ; and many spacious vaults, and reservoirs, and corridors, below. Some of these subterranean apartments are curiously painted, fur- nishing the best specimens of ancient fresco that have been preserved in Rome ; and though buried for so many centuries, they still retain much of their original beauty. Giovanni and Rafaello were so pleased with them that tbey copied them for the logia of the Vatican. These vaults were filled up in the seventeenth century, to prevent their being made a place of refuge by banditti; but in 1813 they were opened again, and have since remained much as we now see them. From these stately ruins was taken the famous group of the Laocoon, with several fine pillars of granite, porphyry, and alabaster. If completely excavated, and all their recesses explored, there is no telling what treasures of ancient art might here be brought to light. With these remains are connected the Sette Sale, or Seven Halls — vast vaulted rooms, intended originally, perhaps, as reservoirs to supply the baths with water. It is difficult, however, to say with confidence what here belonged to the buildings of the Thermse, and what to the Villa of Maecenas, and the Grolden House of Nero, which occupied the same elevation. Next to the Coliseum, the largest ruin in Rome, and the best preserved of all similar structures, is that of the Baths of Caracalla. They are entirely stripped of their pillars and statues, both within and without; but the walls are still standing, and the principal apartments may be easily distin- guished. The ruin is oblong, and nearly a mile in circuit. Besides its great halls and numerous chambers, this estab- lishment contained the temples of Eseulapius and Apollo, as the genii tutelares of a place sacred to the care of the MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 251 body and the improvement of the mind; and two others dedicated to Bacchus and Hercules, as the protecting deities of the Antonine family. There wei*e also a gymnasium and a library, as well as spacious rooms where poets recited, rhe- toricians declaimed, and philosophers lectured. All these apartments were paved and vaulted with mosaics, and deco- rated with paintings and statues. There were walks shaded with rows of stately trees, and bounded by a magnificent portico. This immense structure was probably entire so late as the sixth century, when the destruction of the aqueducts which supplied the baths rendered it useless, and it fell rapidly into decay. When the granite columns of the porti- coes were removed, the roof came down with a crash which shook the city, and the people thought it was an earthquake. Among these splendid ruins were found the two magnificent basaltic basins now in the Vatican, also the Farnese Hercules, the two gladiators, the Atreus and Tlbyestes, the colossal Flora in the Neapolitan museum, and the Venus Galipygc — one of the finest statues in the world. Among these glori- ous fragments poor Shelley used to wander, " conipanionless As the last cloud of an expiring storm, Whose thunder is its knell." Here, he tells us, he wrote the greater part of his Prome- theus Unbound; and in the Protestant burying-ground, just beyond the Aventine, less than a mile distant, I have seen a tombstone, with the simple inscription, " Shelley — Cor Cordium." The Baths of Agrippa, which he bequeathed • to the Roman people, were in the rear of the Pantheon, where the remains of a grand circular hall are nearly concealed by modern dwellings. They had connected with them exten- sive gardens, a fine artificial lake, and a portico more than a 252 A YEAR IN EUROPE. mile in length. The two colossal horses on Monte Cavallo, the statues of the Nile and the Tiber at the Capitol, and a few other works of art in the Rospigliosi palace, are the only relics of the Baths of Constantine. For those of Nero and Alexander Severus one inquires in vain : Canina himself cannot tell where they stood, and all the Koman antiquaries have been unable to identify a single trace of their magnifi- cence. In the valley which divided the Palatine and the Aven- tine, on the very spot where the games were being celebrated when the Romans seized the Sabine women, Tarquinius Priscus constructed the famous Circus Maximus, which was enlarged and improved from time to time, till, in the reign of Constantine, it was capable of accommodating half the population of Rome. In this circus an astonishing number of wild beasts were exhibited : two hundred and fifty-two years before Christ, a hundred and forty-two elephants; during Csesar's third dictatorship, four hundred lions; but the Emperor Grordian, and forty years afterward the Empe- ror Probus, converted the circus into a temporary wood, and turned into it an incredible multitude of wild animals of every kind for the amusement of the people, who were at liberty to take whatever they could catch. The popularity of the circus increased with the corruption of morals which accompanied the decline of the empire. Ammianus Marcel- linus, animadverting on the avidity with which such amuse- ments were sought, and the zest with which they were en- joyed, holds the following language : " The Circus Maximus is their temple, their dwelling-house, the place of their pub- lic meeting, and of all their hopes. In the forum, in the streets, and the squares, multitudes assemble together and dispute, some defending one thing and some another. The oldest take the privilege of age, and cry out in the Temples and the Forum that the republic must fall, if, in the MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 253 approaching games, the person whom they support does not win the prize, and first pass the goal. When the much- desired day of the equestrian games arrives, before sunrise, all rush headlong to the spot, exceeding in swiftness the, chariots that are to run, and upon the success of which their wishes are so divided that many pass the night without sleep." Lactantius confirms this account, and adds, that the people, from their great eagerness, often quarrelled and fought. Very little remains by which to identify this renowned resort ; nothing, indeed, but a few fragments of its porticoes along the slopes of the Palatine and the Avan- tine ; while the place of the Spina is occupied by the unclas- sical gas-works of modern Rome; and its two Egyptian obelisks have been transferred, the one to the Piazza del JPopolo, and the other to the Piazza di San Giovanni in Later ano. The Circus of Maxentius, near the tomb of Csecilia Metella, presents such remnants of its ancient walls as enable us to form a pretty correct idea of its different parts and its general arrangements. We stumbled upon this extensive ruin quite accidentally, in one of our miscellaneous perambu- lations through the chaos of antiquities which environs Rome; and an English party soon entered the enclosure, whose better information answered instead of our guide- books, which we had left at home. A large portion of the exterior of this circus remains, and the foundations of the two obelisks which terminated the spina and formed the goals. Near the principal goal, on one side, behind the benches, stands the tower whereon the judges sat to observe the contests. One end supported a gallery, which contained a band of musicians ; and was flanked by two towers, whence the signals for starting were given. Its length was a third of a mile, its breadth two hundred and sixty feet, the extent of the spina nine hundred and twenty-two feet, the distance 254 A YEAR IN EUROPE. from the career, or starting-point, to the first 'meta, or goal, five hundred and fifty feet; yet these dimensions were not near as great as those of the Circus Maximus. There were seven ranges of seats, which would contain, perhaps, fifty thousand spectators. As jostling was allowed, and no exer- tion of strength or skill was prohibited, the chariots were occasionally overturned; and as the drivers had the reins tied around their bodies, so that they could not suddenly disengage themselves, fatal accidents sometimes occurred. To remove those who were killed or injured, there was a large gate opposite the first meta ; and this was necessary, as the ancients deemed it an evil omen to go through a gate defiled by the passage of a dead body. Over the end oppo- site the career was a triumphal arch, through which the vic- torious charioteer drove, amidst the joyful acclamations of the multitude. There were originally four sets of drivers, named from the four colors which they wore : the Albati, white, the Russati, red, the Prasini, green, and the Veneti, blue ; to which Domitian added two more, the Aitrei, yellow, and the Purpurei, purple. Each color drove five rounds with fresh horses ; their stables, therefore, were close to the circus. I trust, kind reader, thou wilt appreciate these classical dissertations. I trust, also, thou hast some reverence for Romulus, the father of this classical city. If so, accompany me to the Quirinal, and let us look for his temple, where he vanished amidst the tempest that constituted the chariot of his ascension. Here it stood, "sublime with lofty columns/' on the ground now occupied by the gardens of the Jesuits. But there are no traces of it left, and its last remains were removed by Otho of Milan, when Senator of Rome, to form the steps of the Ara Coeli on the Capitol. It is commonly supposed that Romulus was assassinated by his senators, who covered their crime by making him a god. He was wor- MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 255 shipped under the name of Quirinus, and the eminence whereon his temple was reared was thence called Mo?is Quirinalis. The edifice was supported hy a colonnade of seventy-six majestic pillars, and its portal was approached by a noble flight of more than a hundred steps. We may judge some- thing of the reverence felt by the ancient Romans for the founder and tutelar divinity of their city, from the fact that Julius Csesar ascended those steps on his knees, as pilgrims now do the Scala Santa at the Saint John Lateran. On the opposite side of the Quirinal, overlooking the Campus Martins, stood the Temple of the Sun, erected by Aurelian, and not inferior in grandeur and decoration to that of Quirinus. The pillars which sustained its portico, if we may judge from a single fragment remaining in another part of the city, must have been nearly or quite seventy feet high ; and as they, with the whole of their entablature, were of the whitest marble and the richest order, they must have presented a very splendid and imposing appearance, worthy of " the far-beaming god of day." But the massive colonnade has long since fallen, and nothing remains upon the ground to be identified, but two huge pieces of elaborately wrought cornice, lying in the Golonna Gardens. I measured these with my staff; and found one of them sixteen feet long, and eight feet thick ; the other, twelve by ten ; each a sin- gle block of white marble, though now sadly darkened by age. Some idea may be formed of the wealth and splendor of this edifice, when it is stated that Aurelian gave to it fif- teen thousand pounds of gold from the spoils of the con- quered Palmyra. The Portico of Constantine, which stood near the Tem- ple of the Sun, has totally disappeared. The porticoes of ancient Rome were numerous, and constituted one of its chief architectural beauties. They were covered walks, supported by columns, open on one side, sometimes on both, 256 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and often richly adorned with works of art. Augustus erected a portico in honor of Livia his wife, and another to Octavia his sister, both of which were very extensive and magnificent. Agrippa built the Porticus Septorum, enclos- ing the space of a mile, where the legions were mustered and paid; and another to which he gave his own name, ornamented with numerous paintings and statues. Several lines of porticoes led to the capitol, and beautified the sides of the acclivity. Forums, temples, curias, basilicas, and theatres, were usually approached or encircled by these orna- mental structures. Suetonius says that Nero lined the streets of Rome with one continued portico. One of the later emperors built a portico, with four rows of columns and one of pilasters, a mile in length ; and another erected one which extended two miles along the Flaminian Way, from the gate of the city to the Milvian Bridge. The entire Campus Martins was at one time enclosed by a con- tinuous portico. But the modern tourist sees nothing of any of these, except an arch or two of that of Octavia in the miserable fish-market of the Ghetto, and a brace of columns belonging to that of Pompey, of which Propertius sings so mournfully : " Though rich with tapestry from conquered East, Despised is now great Pompey's Portico; The plane-trees tall, in ordered ranks that rise ; And the pure streams, whose gentle murmurs late Lulled Maro's muse to rest." THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 257 CHAPTER XX. THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. THE FAME OF THE TIBER — ITS REPUTATION VINDICATED THE CAMPUS MARTIUS ITS RUINED STRUCTURES MAUSOLEUM OF AUGUSTUS MAUSOLEUM OF HADRIAN ROMAN ARCHITECTURE ITS CHARACTER- ISTICS ITS HISTORY BORROMINI AND HIS SCHOOL REFLECTIONS. What Cicero said of Athens is now as true of Rome : "Wherever we move ; we tread upon some history." He who delights to range in thought over the past, and converse with the great minds of other days, here finds abundant occupation, and inexhaustible sources of pleasure. Every street suggests to him tbe memory of some heroic deed, and at every turn the ghost of some illustrious personage rises solemnly before him. The thoughtful tourist treads lightly as he ranges over the Seven Hills ; once so crowded with population, and graced with so many noble fabrics; now so scantily peopled, and covered everywhere with ruins. What river can equal in interest this same Tiber ? The Amazon and the Mississippi, which roll their mighty floods through forests of a thousand miles, are streams unknown to story and to song. The Thames, the Rhine, and the Danube have their history and their monumental ruins. The names of the Nile, the Jordan, the Tigris, and the Euphrates — ■ consecrated by miracle, and immortalized by the fortunes of the Chosen People — can never fail to attract the pious mind 258 A YEAR IN EUROPE. by their sacred associations. But the Tiber has other and peculiar charms — for the scholar first, and also for the Chris- tian. Its banks are the birthplace of our modern civiliza- tion and jurisprudence ; and hence we have derived the fire of eloquence and the inspiration of the muses. Its name is interwoven with our sc-hoolday memories; and its history for many centuries is the history of the world. Here the Caesars sat and ruled the nations ) hence Tully and Virgil still rule them. Here Paul, in chains, preached the gospel to the Gentiles, and wrote five at least of his fourteen Epis- tles ; and with him, a noble army of martyrs testified unto the death. These shores, now so dreary and silent, once swarmed with gay and busy life ; and were lined everywhere with gor- geous palaces and scenes of rural beauty. Pliny tells us that this single stream was adorned with more fine villas, and served as a prospect to more, than all the other rivers in the world. Doubtless some allowance should be made for Roman vanity ; but the Tiber was certainly unrivalled for the grandeur and magnificence of its numerous patrician residences. This statement applies not only to the golden days of Augustus and Trajan, but also to the iron age of Valen- tinian and Honorius, after Italy had long been the seat of civil war, and more than once the theatre of barbarian fury and G-othic devastation. I have often wished that Napoleon had been permitted to execute what some have been pleased to characterize as a crazy design — that of turning the stream from its course where it flows "through a marble wilder- ness •/' for besides the golden candlestick from the Temple at Jerusalem, what invaluable treasures of art, what relics of imperial splendor, must lie concealed beneath its yellow whirlpools ! Some travellers, absurdly measuring its mass of water by its bulk of fame, and finding its appearance inferior to their THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 259 preconceptions of its majesty, have spoken of the Tiber as "an insignificant stream/' "a narrow and mnddy ditch," " scarcely worthy the name of a river." Dr. Burton says : " The Tiber is a stream of which classical recollections are apt to raise too favorable anticipations : when we think of the fleets of the capital of the world sailing np it, and pour- ing in their treasures of tributary kingdoms, we are likely to attach to it ideas of grandeur and magnificence ; but if we come to the Tiber with such expectations, our disap- pointment will be great." And great indeed was mine, for such representations had given me a very mean opinion of "Father Tiber;" but I found the old gentleman making a very respectable appearance, and fully justifying his ancient fame. As Hobhouse says : " It is not the muddy, insignifi- cant stream which the disappointment of overheated imagi- nations has described ; but one of the finest rivers of Europe, now rolling through a vale of gardens, and now sweeping the base of swelling acclivities, clothed with wood, and crowned with villas and their evergreen shrubberies." As facts are commonly better for information than rhapso- dies, let me assure my readers that its average breadth below the city, and for some distance above, is not less than four hundred feet; that steamboats ascend it sixty or seventy miles several times a week ; that it flows with a deep and rapid current, after the manner of our own Mississippi; and that it has frequently flooded the greater part of modern Rome, and threatened the dislodgment of the red-robed reverends of the Vatican. Many tourists pretend that they cannot see the propriety of the epi^iet " golden" applied so often to its waters ; and a certain female friend of mine, as thou shalt see, sensible reader, in her " Reflected Fragments," has fallen in with this " pestilent heresy." Against all such affectation of skepticism in matters classical, I beg leave to 260 A YEAR IN EUROPE. enter my solemn protest. Believe me, such, writers are not to be trusted. What confidence can be placed in the opinion of a lady who insists that the American mocking- bird sings as well as the Italian nightingale ? Evidently, she can have neither ear for music, nor eye for color. All antiquity unites in pronouncing the Tiber " golden ;" and whoever will put on the spectacles of the present scribe, and wander as he has done again and again along its banks at sunset, or look down upon it from the parapet of the Ponte Molle, or the battlements of the Castle of Sant' Angelo, under the full blaze of a May-day noon, will prove himself either mentally or chromatically defective, if he does not endorse the judgment of antiquity. I believe the lady referred to did not taste the water of the Tiber, nor did I insist upon her doing so, lest, with her usual perverseness, she should pronounce it neither sweet nor salubrious. Yet this water, " in the brave days of old," had a high reputation for these qualities. The Emperor Hadrian thought he could not live without it, and carried a supply with him in all his excursions from Koine. So thought and so did two subsequent infallibles — Clement the Seventh and Paul the Third — as very sensibly advised by their respective physicians. The Campus Martins, lying in a curve of the Tiber, be- tween it and the ancient city, was in the early ages of the republic an open field, devoted to military purposes. In process of time, some edifices of public utility were erected upon it, which under the empire grew into a city of palaces, theatres, porticoes, and temples, all of the most stately and magnificent architecture, surrounded with groves and shady walks, and arranged with due regard to prospective beauty. Viewed from the Janiculum, this superb array of public buildings, bordered in front by the Tiber, and closed behind by the glorious structures of the Capitol, and those of the THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 261 Viminal and the Quirinal, with, the groves and gardens of the Pincian — then as now the Collis Hortulorum — must have presented a picture of astonishing beauty and variety, justifying the proud appellation so often bestowed on Rome — " The Temple and Abode of the Grods." It is difficult for us to conceive, and the few fragments which remain scarcely furnish us a hint of what must have been the grandeur and magnificence of the structures erected in the time of Home's greatest glory, by consuls and emperors wielding unlimited power, commanding inexhausti- ble resources, and every one aiming to surpass his predeces- sor. The majestic Claudian Tomb, as also that of Bibulus, against which Petrarch leaned talking with the noble Colonna, are heaps of ruin, whose original form even can no longer be determined. Pompey's Theatre is half subterra- nean, and its upper portions are occupied as stables. That of Marcellus is buried beneath an ill-shaped modern struc- ture, misnamed a palace, raised upon the ruins of its vaulted galleries. The magnificent Corinthian Portico, with its double row of lofty columns, and all their splendid brazen capitals, has totally disappeared. And where are now the luxurious baths of Nero and Agrippa ? The Pantheon alone survives — the proudest monument preserved of imperial Rome ; but the steps that conducted to its threshold, the marble that clothed its exterior, the bronze that blazed upon its ample dome, the silver that lined its lofty vault within, the statues that adorned its cornice and its niches, all have disappeared by the hands of the spoiler — barbarian and papal ; and the Pantheon, shorn of its beams, looks eclipsed through the disastrous twilight of eighteen hundred years. The largest structure of the Campus Martius was the Mausoleum of Augustus. Strabo represents it as a pendant garden, raised on lofty arches of white marble, planted with evergreen shrubs and trees, and terminating in a point. 262 A YEAR IN EUROPE. crowned with a bronze statue of the Emperor. At the en- trance of the vault where the mighty dead was deposited stood two Egyptian obelisks ; and all around was an exten- sive grove, cut into walks and alleys, adorned with statues, temples, porticoes, three theatres, and an amphitheatre; constituting altogether a spectacle astonishingly beautiful, from which the stranger could scarcely tear himself away. Of this vast monument the two inner walls, which supported the whole mass, and the spacious vaults under which reposed the imperial ashes, still remain — a fragment of great solidity > and suggestive of its original grandeur. The plat- form on the top was for a considerable time used for a gar- den, and covered with shrubs and flowers. Afterward it was converted into a sort of amphitheatre, where, twenty or thirty years ago, the pious subjects of His Holiness were regularly entertained with Sabbath bull-fights. Then bulls were abolished, and preachers were introduced as a substi- tute ) and for a few years the Mausoleum was a place of worship. It still stands, near the Ripetta, and not far from the Tiber — a stupendous ruin, owing its preservation to the thickness of its walls and the strength of its foundations ; but its pyramidal form is gone, and its pillars and statues are no more. The Emperor Hadrian, who delighted in architectural magnificence, determined to build for himself a tomb which should surpass that of Augustus. As the Campus llartius was already crowded with imposing structures, he selected a site on the other side of the Tiber, at the foot of Mons Vaticanus, where its isolation would render it more conspi- cuous. Here, on a vast quadrangular platform of stone, he raised a lofty circular edifice, surrounded by a Corinthian portico, supported by twenty-four pillars, of a beautiful kind of white marble, tinged with purple. The continua- tion of the inner wall formed a second story, adorned with THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 263 Ionic pilasters ; and a dome, surmounted by a bronze cone, crowned the whole fabric, and gave it the appearance of a most majestic temple. To increase its splendor, four colossal statues occupied the four corners of the platform ; twenty- four adorned the portico, and filled the niches between the columns ; an equal number rose above the entablature, and another series stood between the pilasters of the upper story. All these statues were the works of the best masters, and the whole building was cased with fine marble. This monu- ment, called Moles Hadriani, was deemed the ncblest sepul- chral edifice ever erected, and one of the proudest ornaments of Rome, even when she shone in all her imperial magnifi- cence. Yet its glory was transitory. Its matchless grandeur claimed in vain the protection of absent emperors. The genius of Hadrian, and the manes of the virtuous, Antonini, pleaded ineffectually for its preservation. The hand of time defaced its ornaments, the zeal of Honorius stripped it of its sculptured beauties, and the military skill of Belisarius turned it into a temporary fortress. The ne- cessity of such a stronghold became from this period daily more apparent. Threatened first by the Lombards, then by the German emperors, and afterward by its own lawless nobles, the. government saw the importance of securing a permanent post; and found none more defensible, both by situation and by structure, than the Moles Hadriani, which commanded the river, and from its internal solidity might defy all the ancient means of assault. The parts which remain, therefore, are such as were adapted to this purpose ; that is, a portion of its basement or platform, and almost the whole of the central circular building, though denuded of all its ornaments. The marbles . disappeared at an early day, having been employed in other buildings, and many of them burned into lime ; the pillars were transported to the Basilica of San Paolo fuori la Mura, whose nave they still 264 A TEAR IN EUROPE. adorn ; the statues, despised in a barbarous age, were dashed to pieces, built into the wall, or hurled down upon the heads of the assailants ; the brazen cone or pine-apple stands in a garden in one of the squares of the Vatican Palace ; and the sarcophagus which held the imperial ashes is said to be one of those in the Corsini Chapel of San Giovanni in Laterano. In the course of tirne^ various bastions, ramparts, and outworks were added ; several houses for soldiers, provisions, magazines, and so forth, were raised around; and some very considerable edifices, containing spacious apartments, erected on the solid mass of the sepiil- chre itself. It takes its present name, Gastel Sant' Angelo, from its appropriation as the Roman citadel, and from the statue of an angel standing with outspread wings upon its summit. I descended into its dismal vaults, and read the name of Hadrian, Commodus, Antoninus Pius, and others of the imperial line. And there was the dungeon where poor Beatrice Cenci spent two dreary years before her cruel execution, with an Italian sentence which she had scratched with a nail upon the wall. And there was the cell once occupied by the fiery genius, Benvenuto Cellini ; and I saw the place from which he fell in trying to make his escape, and grieved for his broken leg. And there were the apart- ments of the Holy Inquisition, well filled at present with French soldiers of the merriest mood; and the spacious saloons, covered with frescoes by no means modest, to which the Infallible Head of the Church fled through his covered way from the Vatican, when he deemed the fortress safer than his palace. Then I ascended to the summit, and stood beneath the wings of the bronze angel, and looked down on "Rome's immortal ruins — Temples on temples hurled, and tombs on tombs." THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 265 Is this the Mother of Nations, the Mistress of the World ? Nay, this is but her mouldering skeleton, the shreds of her wasted shroud, the remnant of her shattered sepulchre. Deep under the debris of fifteen centuries lies the Rome that was, and over her ashes has arisen another Rome, whose stately palaces and gorgeous churches hut faintly commemo- rate her perished glory. To one hut little accustomed to works of unusual gran- deur and magnificence, it must be exceedingly difficult to form any adequate conception of the majesty and beauty of ancient Rome. Strabo, who had traversed Greece in every direction, and must have been intimately acquainted with the finest things in his own country, and was doubtless, like all other Greeks, intensely partial to its glory, describes Rome as surpassing expectation, and defying all human competi- tion. Constantius, called an " unfeeling prince," who had visited all the cities of the East, and was familiar with the most superb exhibitions of oriental taste and splendor, was struck dumb with admiration, as he proceeded in triumphal pomp through the city of the Caesars. But when he came to the Forum of Trajan, and beheld all the wonders of that matchless structure, he burst into exclamations of astonish- ment and delight. Fixing his eyes upon the equestrian statue before the basilica, he exclaimed : " Where shall we find such another horse ?" To which a Persian prince, who accompanied him, replied : "Suppose we find the horse, who will build him such another stable V If the Greeks, so jealous of the arts and edifices of their native land — if the emperors of the East, admiring so much their own capital, and looking with envy upon the ornaments of the ancient city, were thus obliged to pay an involuntary tribute to her superior beauty, we may certainly pardon the enthusiasm of the Romans themselves, when they speak of it as an epitome of the universe, and an abode 12 266 A YEAR IN EUROPE. worthy of the gods. And if Virgil, when Augustus had only begun his projected improvements, and the magnificence of Rome was in its dawn, called it the fairest city that the world could boast, we may perhaps conjecture what it must have been in the days of Adrian, when it had received its final decorations, and blazed in its full meridian splendor. Ephesus had its Temple of Diana; Athens boasted its Parthenon, and Rhodes its Colossus ; London has its West- minster Abbey, and its Saint Paul's ; Paris its Tuileries, and its Notre Dame; Cologne and Milan, each its gorgeous Gothic Cathedral; Florence its incomparable Campanile; and modern Rome its unrivalled Basilica Vaticanus. . But ancient Rome, not, like any of these, distinguished for some single edifice, or for several, presented to the eye a continu- ous succession of architectural wonders, and exhibited in every view groups and lines of magnificent structures, any one of which, taken separately, would have been sufficient to constitute the characteristic ornament of any other city in the world. When we survey what remains of its ruins — its forums, temples, palaces, porticoes, basilicas, mausoleums, triumphal arches, monumental columns, statues and obelisks, baths and fountains, cloacas and aqueducts, circuses, theatres, and amphitheatres, with all its elaborate sculpture, and mosaic work, and innumerable costly decorations — we are over- whelmed with astonishment and admiration at the hint thus given of its ancient grandeur and magnificence. Where, at the present day, if we except Saint Peter's, which is built of the spoils of antiquity, shall we find a reli- gious edifice equal in beauty to the Pantheon, in magnitude to the Basilica of Constantine, or in wealth and splendor to the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus ? The tombs of Augus- tus, Hadrian, and Cecilia Metella, in material, altitude, and ornament, equalled, perhaps excelled, the Halicarnassean THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 267 Mausoleum ; and all the theatres of Greece sank into insig- nificance before the enormous circumference of the Flavian Amphitheatre. The public buildings of ancient Rome were all supported by pillars of granite and marble, often of the finest quality and the most elaborate workmanship, each shaft consisting of a single block. When we consider this circumstance, and think of the countless multitude of these ornaments, the colonnades which adorned the courts and fronts of all the more important edifices, and the stately porticoes, some of them a mile or two in length, which surrounded and led to them, we are enabled, perhaps, to form a proximate idea of the magni- ficence which must have resulted from the frequent recur- rence and ever-varying combinations of such pillared per- spectives; and we cease to wonder that so many superb frag- ments are still found among the ruins, and that ancient Rome, after so many centuries of research, is still an unex- hausted quarry; and probably the specimens disinterred bear no proportion to the numbers which still lie buried beneath the surface. Well might the Romans speak of their city with pride, foreigners behold it with astonishment, and even the calm philosopher in its contemplation kindle into poetic raptures. " When these wonders are all collected," says Pliny, " and as it were thrown together in a heap, there arises an infinity of grandeur, as if in that one spot we were giving an account of another world." The Romans derived their architectural taste and skill less from the Greeks than from their Etruscan neighbors, who built massive structures in Italy when Grecian architec- ture was yet in its infancy, and who in their works seem con- stantly to have kept in view those great qualities which give excellence without the aid of ornament — commanding ad- miration by their own intrinsic merit. The early architec- ture of Rome was entirely Etruscan, as the remains of all its 268 A YEAR IN EUROPE. most ancient structures abundantly testify. Its chief char- acteristics were solidity, simplicity, and grandeur. It resem- bled, in these respects, the Egyptian ; with forms less gigan- tic, but more graceful. The Cloaca Maxima, constructed in the reign of Tarquinius Superbus, is as perfect now as in the day of its completion ; and the mighty substructions of the Capitol, and the vaults of the Tabularium, now seen under the palace of the Roman senator, if allowed to remain undis- turbed, will be found thousands of years to come. These great edifices were of public utility— say, rather, of public necessity ; and their grandeur and magnificence were the result of their destination, not the object of their erection. Such were the productions of the first era of Roman archi- tecture. The second produced the famous roads and aqueducts which are to this day among its noblest monuments, and a few tombs and temples whose ruins are still admired for their simple majesty and strength. The third commenced with Augustus, who was content to inhabit a mansion compara- tively plain, while he lavished his munificence upon the improvement and embellishment of the city. During this period, the .magnificence which characterized the Roman taste was by no means confined to the most important and permanent public edifices, but showed itself even in build- ings erected for transient and occasional amusements of the people. Two instances merit attention. One is that of the Edile Marcus Scaurus, who built a temporary theatre, capa- ble of containing eighty thousand persons, and adorned it with three hundred and sixty columns of marble, and three thousand statues of bronze. The other, perhaps, was still more astonishing in execution, though less imposing in ap- pearance — the ei'ection of a stupendous wooden edifice, by Curio, for the celebration of funeral games in honor of his father, so contrived that the seats revolved, forming at THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 269 pleasure a theatre or an amphitheatre, without the removal of the spectators. These are instances of the prodigality of magnificence, and as such they are justly censured by the elder Pliny, who ranks them far below the more permanent and useful works of the Marcian and Julian aqueducts. Yet these were stupendous structures, stupendous in design and in execution ; and they show the natural tendency of the Roman mind to the grand and wonderful in architecture. Nero was the first who ventured to expend the public treasures in the erection of an imperial residence ; and he built the Domus Aurea — the golden house — which covered the Palatine Hill, and extended over a large portion of the Coelean; a palace which, for beauty and magnificence, pro- babably has never been surpassed ; and which was partially demolished by his successor, as too gorgeous even for an emperor. But baths, forums, temples, porticoes, mauso- leums, triumphal arches, and monumental columns, still con- tinued the favorite objects of imperial pride and expense; and Rome for three centuries constantly increased in archi- tectural beauty. Under Diocletian, the empire was divided — the sovereign translated to the east, and the capital of the world left to the fury and rapacity of the barbarian. With this com- menced the fourth era, marked too evidently by declining taste, in connection with much of the ancient grandeur. The most remarkable edifices of this period were those erected by Constantine and the Christian emperors, generally after the model, and often with the very materials, of the old basilicas. All the churches reared from the fifth cen- tury to the fifteenth were constructed of the most costly materials; but those materials were generally heaped together with very little regard to proper order, proportion, or sym- metry. At length came a better day. The dawn of Science and 270 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the Arts succeeded to the stormy night of barbarism. Genius was encouraged. The Roman Pontiffs diligently sought the best architects, and liberally rewarded their labors. These found the finest of materials ready to their hand, and the noblest of models constantly before their eyes. What was the result ? Did they copy the admirable forms and proportions of antiquity ? No : they foolishly sought to surpass them. Of course, they failed ; and their failure proves, that in proportion as we deviate from the ancient copies, we deviate from perfection. The architecture of modern Rome, therefore, is characterized by the novel, the whimsical, the extravagant, and the grotesque. The finest materials have been turned to the most insignificant and use- less purposes; and the grand symmetry of the old basilicas and temples has been exchanged for the most fantastical forms and the most absurd proportions. Few modern architects have had greater popularity than Borromini, who flourished in the seventeenth . century. He sought to imitate the soaring genius of Michael Angelo, and the result was a ridiculous violation of all rule and pro- priety. His successors, preferring his extravagances to the simpler majesty of Bramante and Palladio, have left the traces of their folly in nearly all the new edifices of the city, and the recent repairs and restorations of the old. Every- where we meet with twisted, coupled, or inverted pillars, often supporting nothing, or hid away in niches and recesses; with different orders, grouped in the same story, or blended in the same object; with pediments and pilasters, varied without necessity, and multiplied beyond all propriety ; with low stories, called " mezzanini," having short columns, lit- tle windows, and contracted balconies, introduced between the principal stories ; with broken or interrupted cornices, alternate angles and curves, arcs of circles resembling ruined arches, lines for ever advancing and receding, a dazzling dis- THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 271 play of gilded fretwork, and a prodigal exhibition of various splendid ornaments. I speak only of the prevailing mode. There is some fine architecture in Rome ; and passing by Saint Peter's, I would mention with deference the magnificent basilica of Santa Maria Maggiora; the grand but rather too gorgeous struc- ture of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva ; and the new Cathedral of Saint Paul, without the walls. The grandeur of some of these modern structures, combined with the majesty of the ancient monuments, induced Manton to observe, " that Rome is a map of the world in relievo, presenting to the eye the united wonders of Egypt, of Asia, and of Greece." But the glory of man is as the flower of the field. The wind passes over it, and it is gone. Even bronze and marble will perish; and the beauty and magnificence which flou- rished proudly for a season, and were fondly deemed immortal, have faded, and fallen to decay. Nothing remains of ancient Rome, but one dismantled temple, a few dilapidated arches and columns, and sundry heaps of mouldering ruins ; and a few centuries more may strew the seven hills, and the Campus Martius, with the wrecks of her modern successor; and the future traveller may pause and wonder over the relics of pontifical splendor, as we now do over those of im- perial opulence ; and when I recollect what Rome has been for ages — Saint Paul's " mystery of iniquity" — Saint John's "mother of abominations" — the "beast" and "dragon," emblazoned all over with "blasphemy" — the "harlot" and " sorceress," making "merchandise of souls," and "drunken with the blood of the saints," I cannot help crying with those who call from beneath the altar, "How long, Lord, how lon°; ?" 272 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER XXI. HISTORIC NOTICES. ROME UNDER THE EMPERORS EXTENT OF THE CITY ESTIMATE OF POPULATION VICE AND LUXURY GOTHIC DEVASTATION FEUDS OF THE NOBLES ROME OF THE MIDDLE AGES PILLAGE BY THE IM- PERIAL TROOPS PAPAL RESTORATIONS AND IMPROVEMENTS — SIXTUS. THE FIFTH SUBSEQUENT POPES FRENCH OCCUPATION UNDER NAPO- LEON PIO NONO. Mighty is the spirit of the past amid the ruins of the Eternal City. Longfellow. "I found it of brick; I shall leave it of marble." So said Augustus of Rome, and history verifies the word. From the reign of this emperor dates the architectural splendor of the city. Utility, not ornament, had hitherto been aimed at in the public buildings ; and the dwellings of princes and patricians, however spacious, were comparatively unadorned. Now arose magnificent palaces, theatres, and temples ; and stately colonnades of snowy marble crowned the Capitoline Hill, and crowded the Campus Martius. Claudius followed in the footsteps of Augustus; and Nero outdid them both, in taste as much as cruelty. Trajan contributed largely to the improvement of the public works ; and Hadrian expended for the same purpose immense labor and treasure. Then came the Antonini, with redoubled assiduity; whose ex- HISTORIC NOTICES. 273 ample was so effective, that every wealthy citizen deemed it both a duty and an honor to aid in beautifying the metro- polis. Rome became a city of palaces and temples, adorned everywhere with lofty porticoes, triumphal arches, Egyptian obelisks, monumental columns, colossal statues, stupendous aqueducts ; with numerous baths and fountains, groves and gardens, lakes and reservoirs, for the public convenience ; and numerous circuses and naumachias, theatres and amphi- theatres, and other similar institutions, for the public amuse- ment. Meanwhile the population so increased that it was neces- sary to extend the limits of the city. The wall of Servius Tullius was seven miles in circuit; that of Aurelian, thirteen miles. "'If any man," says Dionysius, "beholding the buildings which had sprung up, wished to calculate the size of the city, he would certainly have erred, since he could not have found any mark to distinguish how far the town spread, and where it ended, insomuch that the suburbs united to Rome gave the spectator the idea of a city ex- tended ad infinitum." This description relates to the time of Augustus. Of course, the Tullian wall was useless for the defence of the suburbs ; and therefore the Aurelian, at a later period of the empire, was thrown around the whole. Many ancient structures, as they stood, were taken into the line of this new enclosure; such as the Pretorian Barracks, the Castrensian Amphitheatre, the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, and the arches of the Claudian and Marcian Aqueducts; which still being conspicuous, give to this venerable rampart a most singular and interesting appearance. The population of Rome, at any given period, is a matter somewhat difficult to determine. The vagueness of the data on which our calculations must be based, renders hope- less any attempt at a definite conclusion. As might be expected, therefore, modern investigations of the subject 12* 274 A YEAR IN EUROPE. differ widely in their results, the estimates of some learned men being three or four times as great as those of others. Dureau, in his Economic Politique des Romains, sets down the population, for the period of Rome's greatest prosperity, at 562,000 souls. Hoch, in his Romiche Geschichte, esti- mates it at 2,265,000. Dequincey, in the Caesars, thinks it amounted to not less than 4,000,000, and perhaps half as many more. Lipsius, in his work De Magnitudine Romano. , carries it up to the astonishing number of 8,000,000. Dr. Smith, in the article Roma, in his Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, has dealt largely and learnedly with the question, basing his calculation on the number of citizens who received the imperial largesses, doubtless the surest data on which we can rely. Proceeding thus, he concludes that the male plebeian population of Rome, during the first cen- turies of the empire, must have numbered not less than 350,000 ; and at least twice as many must be added for the women and children, giving a total of 1,050,000. Then, by another elaborate process, he fixes the number of knights and senators at the moderate figure of 15,000 ; and allowing a wife and one child to every man, makes the whole number of individuals composing the equestrian and senatorial families 45,000. These sums give a total of 1,090,000, for all the free inhabitants, of all classes. To these he adds the aliens and foreigners residing at Rome, amounting, as he modestly supposes, with their families, to 100,000; and the soldiers and police, with their families, to 50,000 ; which, added to the foregoing, makes 1,245,000, for the entire mis- cellaneous free population of the city. Concerning the number of slaves, there is no satisfactory data, only it is known to have been very great; many persons, as Tigellius, owning 200 ; others, as Pedanius Secundus, 400. Dr. Smith sets down the number of domestic slaves at 500,000; and those employed in trades, manufactures, the service of public HISTORIC NOTICES. 275 officers, and so forth, at 300,000 j making in all 800,000. This number, added to that of the free inhabitants, gives a total of 2,045,000, for the whole population of Rome, in the time of Vespasian and Trajan. By another calculation, based on data entirely different, our author makes it 2,075,000. On the whole, we may safely say, perhaps, it was not less than 2,000,000. The emperors, in general, sought not the extension of the Roman dominion, but were satisfied with the preservation of what the republic had won. Augustus bequeathed to his successors a valuable legacy, in his advice to confine the empire within those limits which nature seemed to have pre- scribed; and this was still its extent in the time of the Antonini; from the Atlantic to the Euphrates, and from the Rhine and the Danube to the deserts of Africa and Arabia; more than three thousand miles one way, and two thousand the other; embracing an area of sixteen hundred thousand square miles, and comprehending the whole civilized world, with many barbarous nations. After Antoninus Pius, pub- lic virtue rapidly declined, and high places became rife with corruption. Then the empire was divided, and at length put up for sale to the highest bidder, and ruled by a succes- sion of the most despicable mercenary tyrants. Alexander Severus, Claudius II., Aurelian, Tacitus, and Probus, each in his turn, stemmed the torrent of vice, and averted for a season the impending ruin. But when Constantine trans- ferred the imperial seat to Byzantium, Rome became an easy prey, and was several times sacked and burned by the bar- barians. The luxurious and effeminate habits of the Romans rendered them indifferent to the public interest, and disqualified them for self-protection. When Alaric came, he found them sunk to the lowest degree of vicious effeminacy, void of all noble and patriotic sentiments, and wholly ab- sorbed with these two great thoughts — " panem et circeitses." 276 A YEAR IN EUROPE. That this satirical representation of an earlier time was now more than ever applicable, appears from the following description by Ammianus Marcellinus : " Their long robes of purple silk float in the wind ; and as they are agitated by art or accident, they discover the under- garments, the rich tunics, embroidered with the figures of various animals. Followed by a train of fifty servants, and tearing up the pavement in their impetuous course, they rush along the streets as if travelling with post-horses. And the example of the senators is boldly imitated by the matrons and ladies, whose covered carriages are continually driving round the immense space of the city and suburbs. When- ever these persons of high distinction condescend to visit the public baths, they assume a tone of loud and insolent com- mand, and appropriate to their own use the conveniences which were designed for the Roman people. As soon as they have indulged themselves in the refreshments of the bath, they resume their rings, and the other ensigns of their dignity ; select from their private wardrobe of the finest linen, such as might suffice for a dozen persons, the garments most agreeable to their fancy; and maintain till their departure the same haughty demeanor, which perhaps might have been excused in the great Marcellus, after the conquest of Syra- cuse. Sometimes, indeed, these heroes undertake more arduous achievements, visiting their estates in Italy, and procuring for themselves, by the toil of servile hands, the amusements of the chase. If at any time, but more especi- ally in a hot day, they have the courage to sail in their painted galleys from the Lucrine Lake to their elegant villas on the sea-coast of Puteoli and Caieta, they compare their expeditions to the marches of Caesar and Alexander. Yet should a fly presume to settle on the silken folds of their gilded umbrellas, or should a sunbeam penetrate through some unobserved and imperceptible chink, they complain of HISTORIC NOTICES. 277 their intolerable hardships, and lament that they were not born in the land of the Cimmerians, the region of perpetual darkness." Such were the Roman nobility. No wonder the barbarian found them an easy prey. Their slaves and domestics, trained in such a school, and longing to revenge their many wrongs, were ready for any act of treachery. At midnight, the Salarian gate was opened, and the sound of the Gothic trumpet awoke the slumbering city. Of the scene of fury and indiscriminate slaughter which ensued, it were vain to attempt the description. Many fine buildings were burned, and the remains of the Sallustian palace still attest the con- flagration. Others were rudely stripped of their splendid furniture ; and sideboards of massy plate, and wardrobes of silk and purple, were promiscuously piled into the wagons of the conqueror. The most exquisite works of art were wantonly destroyed : marble statues shattered by the battle- axe, those of bronze melted down for the sake of the metal, with rich vases of gold and silver. Six days proceeded the work of pillage and devastation, at the end of which the once proud mistress of the world presented a spectacle for univer- sal pity. During the reign of Theodosius, in the year 426, the Christians destroyed many of the ancient temples, digging up their very foundations. Then came the Vandals and the Moors, in 455, and repeated for fourteen days the scenes be- fore enacted by the Goths. They despoiled the imperial palace, stripped the gilt bronze from the roofs of the capitol, transferred to the ships of Genseric whatever of value they could find, and with the empress and many noble captives conveyed it away to Africa. In 472 the city was again sacked by Recimer, whose rapacity was equalled only by his cruelty. About 540, Vitiges desolated the Campagna, and destroyed the aqueducts. In 546 Totila the Goth demolished 278 A YEAR IN EUROPE. much of the wall, pulled down many palaces, and drove the people into exile. The Romans themselves now carried on the work which the barbarians had begun. The monuments of consular or imperial greatness, no longer revered, were regarded only as cheap and convenient quarries ; and the degenerate nobles destroyed the works of their ancestors, to rebuild the city or adorn their own dwellings. Many massive structures were demolished to repair the walls, the tomb of the Scipios fur- nished the chief material for several palaces, the marble which encased the sepulchre of Csecilia Metella was burned into lime, and the churches were beautified with columns of serpentine, alabaster, pavonazzetto, giallo antico, and oriental granite, from the ancient baths and theatres. Conflagra- tions, inundations, and earthquakes aided the work of ruin. In the seventh and eighth centuries, famine and pestilence repeatedly threatened the depopulation of the place. Misery and wretchedness, scarcely equalled in the history of the world, now overspread Italy, and that beautiful country was reduced almost to the condition of a desert. In the latter part of the eleventh century, the Normans and Saracens, under Robert Gruiscard, ravaged the city with fire and sword; but the havoc which they wrought was exceeded by the effects of the civil wars which followed. Rome at this time consisted of churches, monasteries, and huge unshapely towers, mingling with the glorious monuments of antiquity which still remained. The ferocious aristocracy erected some new fortresses, but generally seized upon the finest structures of the empire, .and converted them into fortifica- tions during their bloody feuds. These detestable wretches neither respected the living nor revered the dead. Monu- ments of the piety of other ages, the sacred resting-places of sages, heroes and emperors, they desecrated and abused. The tombs of Augustus, Hadrian, and Cecilia Metella, were HISTORIC NOTICES. 279 occupied as fortresses, and battered by the projectiles of war. A writer of those times regrets that though what remained could never be equalled, what had been ruined could never be repaired. And Petrarch thus eloquently deplores the fate of the Historic City : " Behold the relics of Rome, the image of her pristine greatness ! Neither time nor the bar- barian can boast the merit of this stupendous destruction. It was perpetrated by her own citizens, by the most illustri- ous of .her sons ; and your ancestors have done with the battering-ram, what the Punic hero could not accomplish with the sword." During the absence of the popes, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, while they held their seat at Avignon, the Neapolitans carried off much valuable material for the decoration of their own capital, and Rome was wasted by numerous depredations. "When Eugenius IV.," says Ranke, " returned to Rome in the year 1443, it was become a city of herdsmen ; its inhabitants were not distinguishable from the peasants of the neighboring country. The hills had long been abandoned, and the only part inhabited was the plain along the windings of the Tiber; there was no pavement in the narrow streets, and these were rendered yet darker by the balconies and buttresses which propped one house against another. The cattle wandered about as in a village. From San Silvestro to the Porta del Popolo, all was garden and marsh, the haunt of flocks of wild ducks. The very memory of antiquity seemed almost effaced; the Capitol was become the Groat's Hill, the Forum Romanum the Cows' Field ; the strangest legends were associated with the few remaining monuments." The return of the pope was the signal for renewed violence on the part of the Romans themselves. The people and the Church were arrayed against each other, the Colonna and Orsini families contended for the towers, fortifications were 280 A YEAR IN EUROPE. erected on every ruin, and Rome was again battered by engines, and deluged with blood. Then came " the learned Poggius," and sat him down upon a shattered column on the Capitoline Hill, and mused in this melancholy mood over the sad vicissitudes of the Eternal City : " Her primaeval state, such as she might appear in a remote age, when Evander entertained the stranger of Troy, has been delineated by the fancy of Virgil. This Tarpeian rock was then a savage and solitary thicket : in the time of the poet, it was crowned with the golden roofs of a temple; the temple is overthrown, the gold has been pillaged, the wheel of fortune has accomplished her revolution, and the sacred ground is again disfigured with thorns and bram- bles. The hill of the Capitol, on' which we sit, was formerly the head of the Roman empire, the citadel of the earth, the terror of kings; illustrated by the footsteps of so many triumphs, enriched with the spoils and tributes of so many nations. This spectacle of the world, how is it fallen ! how changed ! how defaced ! the path of victory is obli- terated by vines, and the benches of the senators are con- cealed by a dunghill. Cast your eyes on the Palatine Hill, and seek, among the shapeless and enormous fragments, the marble theatre, the obelisks, the colossal statues, the porticoes of Nero's palace : survey the other hills of the city, the vacant space is interrupted only by ruins and gardens. The Forum of the Roman people, where they assembled to enact their laws and elect their magistrates, is now enclosed for the cultivation of pot-herbs, or thrown open for the reception of swine and buffaloes. The public and private edifices, that were founded for eternity, lie prostrate, naked and broken, like the limbs of a mighty giant; and the ruin is the more visible from the stupendous relics that have survived the injuries of time and fortune." Pope Nicholas resolutely began the work of restoration. HISTORIC NOTICES. 281 Julius II. followed nobly iu his footsteps. Under him arose the magnificent Basilica of St. Peter. He also restored the Palace of the Vatican, added the Loggie, founded the Muse- um, and completed the Cancellaria. His cardinals and barons emulated his example, and erected palaces which are still the grandest in Rome. Farnese built his with blocks of travertine from the Coliseum ; Chigi employed in the de- coration of his the matchless hand of Raffaello ; the Medici filled theirs with every treasure of literature and art ; the Orsini beautified theirs, within and without, with the most costly productions of the pencil and the chisel ; and Francesco di Riaro boasted that his would stand till tortoises should crawl over the face of the earth. Other improvements were made under Leo the Tenth. " The ruins of Rome," says Ranke, " were regarded with a kind of religious veneration : in them the divine spark of the antique spirit was recognized with a sort of rapture." The pope sought to preserve the remains of the ancient city, and labored to increase the architectural beauty of the new. It was a time of great emulation and universal prosperity. Men of genius and talent were sought out and encouraged. The population grew rapidly; many fine buildings arose upon the Campo Marzo, and Rome soon recovered much of her former wealth and splendor. Then came that terrible era in the annals of Roman mis- fortune, the siege and occupation of the city by the troops of Charles the Fifth, in 1527. " Never," says Whiteside, " did a richer booty fall into the hands of a more remorseless army ; never was there a more protracted and mote ruinous pillage." It proceeded without interruption four months, and the fury of the Goths and Vandals was the very bland- ness of Christian charity in the comparison. " The splen- dor of Rome," says Ranke, " fills the beginning of the sixteenth century, marking the astonishing period of devel- 282 A YEAR IN EUROPE. opnient of the human mind ; with this day it was extin- guished for ever." Pius the Fourth, in 1559, conceived the project of building again on the deserted hills. He founded the palace of the Conservatori on Monte Gapitolwo / and employed Michael Angelo to construct, out of the ruins of the Baths of Diocletian on the Viminale, the magnificent church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. In 1585 Sixtus the Fifth ascended the papal throne, and stamped his name im- perishably upon Rome. To the taste of a Franciscan monk uniting the ambition and enterprise of the Caesars, he demolished " the ugly antiquities," as he called them, and filled the modern city with splendor from their spoils. He tore down the beautiful Sejjtizoniuin of Severus, and trans- ferred its columns to the Basilica, Vaticanus. The sublime monument of Cascilia Metella, the only considerable vestige remaining of the old republic, he would have levelled to the ground, had he not been in good time prevented. The Laocoon and the Apollo Belvidere he could scarcely tolerate in the Vatican. He declared that the Jupiter Tonans should be removed from the Capitol, or he would pull down the building : he would have no heathen gods in his Christian Rome. The Minerva he suffered to remain, hav- ing converted her, by taking the spear out of her hand, and putting in its place an enormous cross. In a similar manner he converted the monumental columns of Trajan and Antonine ; placing Saint Peter with the keys upon the former, and Saint Paul with a sword upon the latter; imagining that by such means he gave a triumph to Chris- tianity over Paganism. With immense labor he reared the fine Egyptian obelisk in front of Saint Peter's, enclosing "a piece of the true- cross" upon its summit; also that in the Piazza, del Popolo, and those near the Santa Maria Maggiore and the San Giovanni in Laterano. He laid out HISTORIC NOTICES. 283 several fine streets, and built the steps from the Piazza di Spagna to the Trinita de' Monti. He repaired the Mer- cian Aqueduct, christening it Aqua Felice, which feeds twenty-seven fountains, and yields more than twenty thou- sand cubic feet of water a day. In this great work, as he declares, he suffered himself " to be deterred by no diffi- culty or expense in order that those hills, which, even in early Christian times, were graced with basilicas, distin- guished for the salubrity of the air, the pleasantness of the situation, and the beauty of the views, might once more be inhabited." He took the bronze from the roof of the Pan- theon, to make the magnificent baldichino, with its huge twisted columns, over the high altar of Saint Peter's. The dome of that wondrous structure was still wanting ; and so anxious was he to see it completed, that he employed six hundred men upon it night and day for three years and a half, though he did not live to witness the consummation of the work. Thus the papal despot effected some of the most useful improvements in Rome, while he destroyed many of the finest remains of antiquity. The condition of the city in the middle of the sixteenth century, however, was still, for the mass of the inhabitants, sufficiently miserable. Ostentatious display was preferred to popular utility. The nobles dwelt in sumptuous palaces, peopled with the precious things of art, and surrounded with spacious gardens and shady avenues ; while the mal- ordinate casaccie of the common people, propped up with buttresses, and crumbling in ruinous decay, were situated in narrow, dirty, and unventilated lanes. What is now the Piazza del Popolo was a huddle of dilapidated buildings, more wretched in appearance than an American can well imagine. Alexander the Seventh was now upon the papal throne. Fortunately, the Queen of Sweden paid a visit to His Holiness. It was important that Her Majesty should 284 A YEAR IN EUROPE. have a grand passage whereby to enter the Capital of the Christian world. So the place was cleared of its ruinous encumbrances, and converted into the present spacious piazza; which, with its twin crescents, twin fountains, twin churches, twin palaces, beautiful Egyptian obelisk, cypress- sbaded terrace along the Tiber, laurel hedges looking down from the Pincian acclivity, and three broad streets diverging fanwise through the city, is the most delightful locality of modern Rome. Pius the Sixth did something, Pius the Seventh more, toward the improvement and embellishment of the city ; but during its four years' occupation by the French under Napoleon, from 1809 to 1814, excavations and restorations were projected and begun, which, if the plan had been car-- ried out, would have proved an incalculable benefit. Eng- lish jealousy and prejudice have done great injustice to the French government in reference to its Italian conquests, and it has unfortunately been the fashion for English tourists and essayists to indulge in severe reflections against the French nation on that account. True, we cannot justify the rapacity which plundered so many palaces and churches of their finest ornaments, but neither ought we to overlook the enlightened and noble designs of the conqueror for the improvement of the Roman metropolis. The interesting work of the Emperor's Prifet, Count de Tournon, affords us some valuable information on this subject. The Italian campaign of 1798 he very properly condemns as an " irrup- tion sjooliatrice et revolutionaire," and then adds : " If, dur- ing that first invasion, Rome paid a portion of the tribute imposed by the conqueror in the sacrifice of her statues and her most precious pictures, during the second occupation Rome witnessed not only the religious preservation of what had been left her, but also the watchful care of the govern- ment for the restoration of her ancient monuments." HISTORIC NOTICES. 285 Raffaello, in a curious letter to Leo the Tenth, had proposed the removal of the modern accumulations, the thorough clearance of the ground to the original level, bringing to light the foundations of consular and imperial Rome ; hut it was left for the stranger and usurper to undertake a work which the imbecile vicegerents of Jehovah did not care to execute. " What an inexhaustible mine of wealth," said that same Leo, " do we find the fable concerning Jesus Christ !"- albeit ten times as much of that wealth was squan- dered upon his pleasures as was devoted to the improvement of his capital. The French administration applied one million francs a year to this great enterprise, half of which was advanced from the treasury, the remainder furnished by the city. In order to carry out their project, it was necessary to purchase and pull down many modern dwellings, stables and granaries, churches and monasteries ; to dig trenches to carry off the rain-water, and build walls around the spaces excavated. They cleared the ground at the foot of the Capitoline Mount, and brought to light the ancient Rostra of the Great Forum, the marble podium of the temple of Concord, the three fine pillars which belonged to that of Vespasian, and what remains of the Portico of the Scuola Zanta. They demolished the unsightly structures which concealed the Triumphal Arch of Septimius Severus, and the stately porch of the Temple of Saturn ; isolated the column of Phocus, and those of the Curia Julia; and revealed the incompafable beauty of the structure erected by the Roman senate in honor of the conqueror of Jerusalem. They un- covered the marble pavement of the Basilica of Constantine, which lay some thirty feet beneath the surface, so that " the three colossal vaults recovered their grand proportions ;" and " laid bare the base of the Temple of Venus and Rome, where was found a prodigious quantity of precious remains 286 A YEAR IN EUROPE. of the Golden House of Nero." They removed the earth which had accumulated in the Portico of Antoninus and Faustina, and brought to view the bases of the columns of Cipoline marble ; at the foot of which was found, in perfect preservation, the pavement of the Via Sacra, " where seemed imprinted yet the steps of the conquerors marching to the Capitol, and those of the vanquished dragged to the Mamer- tine Prison." They cleared away the soil which had grown up on all sides around the Coliseum, strengthened its broken walls, cemented its gaping vaults, and uncovered the flags of its pavement; " so that this majestic monument, which was under the reign of Titus a bloody circus, under Diocletian the theatre of Christian martyrdom, in the mid- dle ages the fortress of the Frangipani, and in our days a sacredly-revered Calvary, will be able yet for a long time to justify the fine expression of Delille — ' Sa mass indestructible a fatigue - le temps.' " They restored to the daylight the subterranean arabesques of the Baths of Titus ; disen°;a°"ed from the surrounding; era- naries the Arch of Janus Quadrifons ; demolished the dwellings which hid the Temples of Vesta and Fortuna Virilis ; cleared a large space around the column of Trajan and the Ulpian Basilica; began excavating the base of the Pantheon, and prepared for tearing down the hideous belfries which disfigure its beautiful facade ; took such measures as were necessary for the improvement and preservation of many of those ancient buildings which Constantine converted into churches; and, in short, projected a plan for the disin- terment of the venerable monuments of antiquity — the resurrection of imperial Rome. The details of this whole project, so important to archasology and the arts, are pre- sented in the map of the Count de Tournon — a noble HISTORIC NOTICES. 287 design, which will never be executed under the papal ad- ministration. What has the present Napoleon done for Rome ? He has sent an army to bombard the city, brought back His Fugitive Infallibility from exile, forced upon a long-oppressed people a despotism which they heartily despise, and perpetuated a curse which has blighted Italy for ages. What has Pio Nono done for Rome ? He has blessed the faithful annually from the balcony of Saint Peter's, showed them occasionally the handkerchief of the blessed Santa Veronica, furnished them grand pyrotechnical displays upon the Pincio, given them dispensations from duty and indulgences for sin, made a pilgrimage or two in their behalf to the Holy House at Loretto, erected a Corinthian column to the Virgin in honor of her immaculate conception, laid the corner-stone of a convent at the lately opened catacomb of Sant' Alessandro, excavated a few furlongs of the ancient Appian Way, built bridges at Lariccia and Grensano, and otherwise improved the road to Graeta. And what, meanwhile, are the Roman people doing ? They are laughing bitterly at the imbecile dotard of the triple crown ; and execrating his master, the wily Antonelli ; and working a dark cuniculus beneath the Vatican palace ; and sending assassins and infernal machines to Paris ; and brooding in sullen wrath over the wrongs of their friends, who for eight years past have pined in dun- geons ; and appealing to Heaven against the double tyranny which they have so long silently endured. The day of redress must come — the day of redress and retribution. There is no hope for Antichrist : God hath written his doom. There is no hope for Italy, but in the predicted subversion of his power. Let French cannon protect his palace, and French bayonets prop his tottering throne : both he and they shall be " as the chaff of the mountains before the wind, and like a rolling thing before the whirlwind I" Antichrist 288 A YEAR IN EUROPE. cannot endure : the curse of Heaven is upon him, and "hell is moved from beneath to meet him at his coming." Even while I write come tidings from Italy of fourteen thousand people whelmed in the ruins of falling cities — an awful warning to the hoary blasphemer of the Vatican ! And when I saw him lately reeling to and fro in his lofty chair, sick from the unsteady motion of those who bore him upon their shoulders, as he passed at the head of his gorgeous proces- sion along the nave of the grand basilica, I seemed to recog- nize in him the symbolled mystagogue of the Apocalypse, " drunken with the blood of the saints," and staggering upon the brink of that "lake of fire" into which he is fated ere Ions: to fall ! BASILICA VATICANUS. 289 CHAPTER XXII. BASILICA VATICANUS. VIEW FROM A DISTANCE VIEW FROM THE PIAZZA THE INTERIOR THE ROOF — THE DOME — THE BALL. " From whatever part of the surrounding country you look at Rome, the object that chiefly strikes the eye and the mind is St. Peter's : in visible as in moral impression, it forms in modern times the great representative feature of the Historic City." So writes our poetic countryman, Horace Binney Wallace ; and having for four months viewed this wonder of architec- ture from various distances' in every direction, and having wandered through its vast interior solitudes, and surveyed its infinite wealth of decoration, and walked its spacious roof, and climbed its gorgeous dome, I am prepared to adopt the sentiment, though I cannot go to the full extent with the enthusiastic author in his views of the sanctity and religious influence of the place. I have seen St. Peter's from the distant hill -slopes of Tivoli. My view was athwart the vast Campagna, covered, as it always is, with a soft purple haze, and bounded in the distance by the blue line of the Mediterranean. Nothing else was to be seen of the seven-hilled metropolis, not a tur- ret nor a tower, not a battlement nor a spire. But from the centre of the sombre plan the whole dome of St. Peter's 13 290 A YEAR IN EUROPE. loomed up against the bright horizon, dark, weird, porten- tous, as if painted upon the shy. The Campagna looked like an ocean, and St. Peter's like a huge ship, sailing alone upon its dusky waters. I have seen it from the Alban Mount, and the Tomb of Pompey, and the Tusculan Villa of Cicero. A dreary waste lay before me, strewn with the wrecks of an empire. For nearly fifteen miles my eye ranged along a continuous street of sepulchres, among which stood conspicuous those of Mes- salla Corvinus and Cecilia Metella ; and nearly parallel with this, for half the distance, bestriding the desolation, were seen the gigantic arches of the Marcian, Julian, and Clauclian aqueducts, like vast thousand-footed monsters marching over the plain; and beyond them stood the majestic Coliseum,- and the ruin-strewn Palatine, with the domes and towers and palaces of modern Rome — all that rears itself aloft of the world's great mistress — all that remains of republican or im- perial grandeur — every thing melted by the golden richness of the languid atmosphere into an airy and mystical spectre of departed power. But above the pale masses of the city still rose that mighty vision — strange, solemn, mysterious — making all else seem utterly insignificant in the panorama. St. Peter's is the real Roman eagle, and the surrounding palaces and temples are but the nestlings that crouch timidly beneath its wings. Nay, St. Peter's is Rome itself, and all the rest are but suburban villas. I have seen it from the Via Aurelia fifteen miles distant, from the hills that surround the site of the Etruscan Veii, from the Tiber-washed mound where perched the lofty citadel of Fidene, from the nearer elevation which in the days of Romulus sustained the arx of Antemne, from a hundred other eminences in every direction over the undulating Cam- pagna, from Monte Mario and the Janiculum, from the gardens of the Quirmal and the palace of the Cassars, from BASILICA VATICANUS. 291 the Tarpeian Rock and the belfries of the Campidoglio, from the arches of the Coliseum and the statued parapets of St. John Lateran — through the purple haze of the morning air, through the sapphire blue of the cloudless noontide, through the shifting tints of the gorgeous sunset, and through the soft gray mist of the evening twilight. Yet St. Peter's was ever the same — grand, awful, impressive — even at the greatest distance, filling the eye and elevating the soul ; and, as it was approached, swelling into a vastness, and assuming a magnificence, which only astonishment and wonder could embrace. There it stood, the proud representative of pon- tifical splendor, looking down in solemn mockery upon the crumbling memorials of imperial opulence ; though inferior, doubtless, in its extent, and the style of its architecture, to many of the structures of the ancient city, yet, in the pro- fusion and costliness of its decorations, and the sublimity of its soaring altitude, equalling if not surpassing the palace of Nero, the forum of Trajan, the theatre of Marcellus, the mausoleum of Hadrian, the thermae of Diocletian, the basi- lica of Constantine, or the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. Never shall I forget the impression produced upon me, when, as wc drew near the Porta Cavalleggieri, on our arrival from Civita ■ Vecchia, the great dome lifted itself over the wall, like a volcanic mountain suddenly thrown up into the evening sky. Never shall I forget the moment when, as we dashed along the circling forest of marble columns enclosing the broad piazza, with a thousand lamps gleaming through its thousand vistas, the architectural immensity first broke upon my view in all the majesty of its entireness. Still higher rose my admiration, when afterwards I entered that grand colonnade, and took a leisurely survey of the unrivalled basi- lica. The former vision was dim and indistinct — a gigantic frame without the picture; yet within the vast outline the imagination found ample scope, and the obscurity of the object 292 A YEAR IN EUROPE. perhaps impressed Hie the more with its grandeur. But now the veil was removed, and the mighty dome rose through the violet atmosphere into the fairest of Italian skies; and the several parts of the great basilica, in their fine pro- portions, and with their countless ornaments, stood forth in clear and perfect vision. What pencil shall paint its glories ! "■ Some things," says Mabillon, when he beheld this mighty structure, " are never more adequately praised than by silence and amazement." " I saw St. Peter's," says the poet Grey, " and was struck dumb with admiration." One can scarcely look upon it without feeling that St. Peter's is Rome, and Rome what Pliny described it — " the world in miniature." The wealth of an empire is within its walls, and the genius of ages has been exhausted in its decoration. The vastness of its dimensions, and the elevation of its matchless cupola, suggest at once the idea of all that is grand or magnificent in the deeds or productions of men. Nor less suggestive is it of solidity and strength ; it seems built for eternity. Yet the palace of the Caesars is not, and the walls of the Coliseum are crumbling, and the time shall be when no vestige shall remain of the Eternal City. As you enter the circular court in front of the edifice, the lofty colonnade that surrounds you, crowned with its numer- ous statues; the beautiful Egyptian obelisk, a hundred and thirty feet high, occupying the centre of the area ; the two perpetual water-jets, falling in feathery spray into their por- phyry basins ; the vast buildings of the Vatican, a little city, overlooking the entablature and balustrade of the galleria on the right — impressive as they would be in any other situation, are objects scarcely noticed in the presence of St. Peter's. Before you, raised on three successive flights of marble steps, extending four hundred feet in length, and towering to an elevation of a hundred and eighty, supported by huge Corin- thian pillars and pilasters, and adorned with an attic, a balus- BASILICA VATICANUS. 293 trade, and thirteen colossal statues, you behold the front of the cathedral. Far behind and above rises the dome, like another Pantheon, suspended in the sky, its base surrounded and strengthened by a colonnade of coupled pillars, the colonnade surmounted by a graceful attic, the attic by the majestic swell of the convex roof, the apex of the roof by a circular cluster of columns enclosing the lantern, and this again by the pyramid which bears the ball and the cross into the infinite azure. Enter one of the five stupendous portals before you. You find yourself in a grand cathedral, paved with variegated marble, covered with a stupendous gilded vault, and adorned with numerous pillars and pilasters, mosaic figures, bas-reliefs, and statues — a hall into which you might pile five or six of your largest American churches, for it is four hundred feet in length, seventy in height, and fifty in breadth. Yet this is but the vestibule of St. Peter's. Lift aside the heavy matted curtain, and enter the body of the church. The most ex- tensive hall ever constructed by human hands opens in mag- nificent perspective before you. Advance up the nave, and admire the variegated marble beneath your feet, and the golden vault above your head ; the lofty Corinthian pilasters, with their bold and beautiful entablatures ; the intermediate niches, with their numerous colossal statues; and the mag- nificent arcades, with the graceful figures that recline upon their curves. Approach the foot of the altar, and from this central position contemplate the four superb vistas that open around you — the four stupendous piers that support the mas- sive dome — the many altars and sepulchral monuments, with their groups of exquisite sculpture — the wreaths and festoons, crosses and tiaras, angels and medallions, all of the rarest marbles and finest workmanship, representing the effigies of the different pontiffs, which everywhere adorn the walls ; and then raise your eyes to the wonderful cupola that spans 294 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the whole like a firmament — so grand in its design, so pro- digious in its altitude, and rich beyond all parallel in its deco- ration — at once enchanting the eye, satisfying the taste, and filling the soul with a sense of calm sublimity. What a world of wonders is around you ! Whence all these precious marbles and metals — this profusion of gems and gold ? Who devised and executed these beautiful mosaics ? Who chiselled these glorious forms from the solid stone ? How soft the solar beams streaming in from the lofty windows ! How sweet the perfumed air through which they float ! There is no summer nor winter here : it is the change- less temperature of perpetual spring. Within these walls the flood of noontide splendor never dazzles the eye; and amid these ever-burning lamps midnight never produces utter darkness ; but the loveliest of twilights by day, and a " dim religious light" by night, pervade the spacious soli- tudes. The place seems holy through its very vastness and its beauty. Strength, grandeur, and solidity, suggestive of " the fixed infinite," float unsphered within these vaulted spaces. Yet who would think the ceiling of the nave twice the height of that of Westminster Abbey, and the vault of the dome almost treble that stupendous altitude ? Who would think those infant cherubs at the base of the pilasters six feet high, or the pen in the hand of St. Luke above them six feet long, or the figure of the Evangelist itself sixteen feet in stature, or the piers that support that unrivalled structure eighty-four feet in diameter, or the gorgeous bronze baldichino over the great altar, ninety feet above the pavement ? It is the perfection of the proportions that occasions the illusion ; and you must come hither again and again, and remain here long enough to study the several .parts of the edifice in detail, and allow the eye to become familiar with the various objects of its survey, before you will have any adequate idea of the greatness of the Roman cathedral. BASILICA VATICANUS. 295 The oftener you visit it, the more you will be impressed with its grandeur; and a residence of years within its walls, it seems to me, would only enhance the wonder of its magni- tude and its magnificence. It is the sanctuary of space and silence. An oppressive sense of vastitude and majesty per- vades the place. No throng can crowd these halls; no sound of voice or organ can fill these arches. The Pope, who fills all Europe with his pompous retinue, fills not St. Peter's ; and the roar of his choired singers, with the sonorous chant of a host of priests, bishops, and cardinals, floats in soft echoes through its aisles and domes. Those vast pictures on the walls and piers — the Commu- nion of St. Jerome, by Domenichino ; the Burial of St. Petronilla, by Guercino ; the Transfiguration of the Re- deemer, by Rafiaello — are as great in merit as in magnitude — the masterpieces of the world — copied not in oil-tints upon perishable canvas, but wrought with infinite labor in ever- during mosaic. Look where you will, you see precious marbles and fretted gold, and the sense is actually oppressed with the immense richness and variety of decoration — the incalculable treasure lavished by popes and princes, with unparalleled prodigality, through successive centuries, upon this grand aesthetic embodiment of the Roman religion. And what an aspect of oriental magnificence has the great central altar, with its lofty and elaborately wrought canopy, sup- ported by its four huge twisted columns, the largest bronze structure in existence ; and the hundred brazen lamps which burn perpetually in front, lighting the way to the solemn crypt below ! There, probably, sleeps St. Paul — Peter also, according to the Church ; but there is no proof, and tradi- tion is rather dubious. There probably lies the dust of Paul — the greatest hero that Rome herself ever saw — the dust of that heart which enshrined the Crucified, and embraced the uni- 296 A YEAR IN EUROPE. verse — the dust of that mouth which discoursed so bravely at Athens, and spoke so sweetly to the elders of Ephesus — ■ the dust of those feet which traversed the world, and were never weary — of those eyes which wept so often for his enemies — of those hands which proudly wore the martyr's chain — there, probably, he lies, and thence shall come forth, with all them that sleep in Jesus, " to meet the Lord in the air I" But no one can say that he has seen St. Peter's till he has made the ascent of the dome. A day was set apart for this especial purpose, and a lovelier never shone on beautiful Italy. A broad spiral flight of steps, one hundred and forty- four in number, led us to the lofty roof. Here the vast dimensions and fine proportions of the edifice began to dawn like a new revelation upon my soul. Here I perceived that the vaulted roof of the nave and aisles was but the pedestal, whence the real elevation of the building soared on high. Here I ascertained that the statues of Christ and the Apostles arranged along the parapet, which from the court below appeared to be not more than five feet high, were in reality fifteen or twenty. The grand cupola was magnified in the same proportion; and the sixteen smaller ones, which seemed like satellites around it, were fit to have crowned as many fine churches. Two of them, indeed, are more than a hun- dred feet high, and worthy of cathedrals. I stood astonished at the number of domes and spires that rose around me — the galleries, the staircases, the shops of the workmen, the laborers passing to and fro — giving the whole the form and aspect of a town, rather than the roof of a church. But the grand dome itself is the acme of all architectural wonders; the vast platform on which it reposes, as on a solid rock, the lofty colonnade by which it is surrounded and' supported, the prodigious swell and circumference of the convex structure, BASILICA VATICANUS. 297 and the lantern which stands upon its summit like a temple on a mountain, constituting an object which every eye must admire, but no pen can adequately describe. The dome is a double vault, a dome within a dome, and the stairs by which it is ascended are between the interior and exterior walls. After climbing several nights, we en- tered a door which opened upon the great circular gallery within. It was a dizzy height, and we shuddered to approach the balustrade and look down upon the baldichino, with the altar and the shrine below. The people moving about the pavement looked like Liliputians ; and the mosaic figures around us, which from beneath had seemed so small, assumed a gigantic magnitude. The diameter of the dome at this point is a hundred and forty feet, about the same as that of the Pantheon. Having satisfied ourselves with the view, we resumed the ascent ; and by successive flights of steps, at length reached the very apex of the dome. The prospect from the balcony here is equal to that which we enjoyed from the Campanile of the Capitol. The whole area of Rome lay spread out like a map beneath us, with the sur- rounding sweep of the Campagna, through which the Tiber, now unquestionably golden, winding like a great serpent, might be traced from Monte Soracte to the sea ; the whole bounded on the east by the purple-tinted semicircle of the Apennines, and on the west by the blue line of the Medi- terranean. Every thing in the Eternal City seemed to be visible, but here the seven hills had sunk to a level with the intervening valleys, and churches and palaces had lost their grandeur and elevation, while St. Peter's and the adjoining Vatican, by themselves, assumed the magnitude of a town. Nothing could look funnier than the manikins in the broad piazza below, the toy-carriages and horses passing through the streets, and the company of tiny soldiers performing their evolutions within the circling colonnade. 13* 298 A YEAR IN EUROPE. At the top of the lantern we found a spacious room, with seats around the wall, where several persons were awaiting their opportunity to mount still higher. There was a party already in the ball, and others could not ascend till they came down. The place was uncomfortably warm, but here, as elsewhere, we must " bide our time." The ladder lead- ing up into the ball is vertical, and the aperture at the top is only large enough to admit a man of ordinary dimensions. A fat monk, who essayed the ascent in vain, afforded our company much amusement; and a fashionable lady, who immediately afterward mounted the ladder with an air of triumph, found it equally impracticable. We experienced no difficulty, however; and Mrs. Cross performed the feat with comparative ease. The ball, which from the piazza below seems not much larger than the Pope's head, is spa- cious enough to contain sixteen persons. On the outside is a small iron ladder, conducting to the cross above ; but the ascent is seldom or never attempted, except by the man who lights the cross on the night of the annual illumination, nor even by him till he has received the sacrament of extreme unction ; though once upon a time, as Eustace records in his Classical Tour, some midshipmen of the frigate Medusa, who had served an apprenticeship at climbing, did achieve this exploit without any such efficacious preparative ; and their example was subsequently imitated by a party of spirited young Americans — "Heroes prodigal of breath, Athirst for glory, and despising death." ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 299 CHAPTER XXIII. ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. INFLUENCE OF BORROMINI UPON THE STYLE OF SACRED ARCHITEC- TURE CHURCH OF ST. CLEMENT SAN PIETRO IN VINCOLI SAN MARTINO E SAN SYLVESTRO SANTA CECILIA IN TRASTETERA SAN PIETRO IN MONTORIO SANTA MARIA IN TRASTEVERA SAN LOREN- ZO — IL GESU ARA C(ELI SANTA MARIA MAGGIORA SAN GIOVANNI IN LATERANO SAN PAOLO FUORI LA MURA SANT' ONOFRIO SANTA MARIA AD MARTYRES SAN STEPHANO ROTONDO. Pagan Rome had four hundred temples : Papal Rome has three hundred and thirty churches, many of them as old as the time of Constantine. These ancient edifices have been more or less altered in the successive restorations and repairs to which they have been subjected, yet much of the old ma- terial remains, and the original plans of the buildings are generally preserved. They are interesting, therefore, as specimens of the early Christian architecture, and frequently they contain rare treasures of art. With the exception of the transept, rendering them cruciform, they are built after the model of the ancient Basilica; with a lofty central nave, and two lateral aisles, separated from it by colonnades. The prevailing style of the modern ecclesiastical architec- ture of Rome I cannot say that I admire. The fantastical innovations of Borromini appear to me opposed to all true taste and just proportion. This is the more remarkable in 300 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Rome, where so many admirable specimens of antiquity remain, as guides and models for the architect. It is strange that, with the portico of the Pantheon before him, he should have indulged in such whimsical absurdities — groups of pillars crowded into recesses, cornices broken and sharpened into angles, and pediments twisted into curves and flourishes — filling Rome with such extravagances and deformities as now everywhere meet the eye of the beholder. But Borromini was a bold genius, who avoided imitation, and aimed at originality, seeking even to excel Michael Angelo. The former object he certainly achieved ; the lat- ter also, in respect to every thing grotesque and ridiculous in his art. Yet there is much in the churches of Rome to be admired. He who delights in immense halls and endless colonnades j pillars of solid granite, and altars and tombs of precious marbles ; pavements that glow with all the tints of the rain- bow, and roofs ablaze with glittering bronze and gold ; can- vas that seems to live and breathe, and statues which appear ready to step down from their pedestals and grasp the hand of the visitor ; may find in the religious structures of this grand old city ample entertainment for weeks and months together. I confine myself to a few of the more ancient, whether within or without the walls. The oldest church in Rome is that of San Clemente; said to occupy the site of that bishop's house, and supposed to have been originally one of its apartments. Nothing is absurd in Rome but Protestant incredulity. That this edi- fice is very ancient is unquestionable, for it is mentioned as an old one by Jerome, and other writers of the fourth cen- tury ; but that it retains much of its primitive appearance is very doubiful, so often has it been reedified and altered. It is not, strictly speaking, a basilica, though it appears to have been something after that form; which, indeed, has ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 301 been generally retained or imitated in the church architec- ture of Italy. The Church of San Pietro in Vincoli — St. Peter in Chains — was built about the year A. D. 420. It is a noble hall, supported by forty pillars of marble, and adorned with some beautifully-sculptured tombs and several fine pictures. Here is Michael Angelo's Moses, one of the most remarka- ble statues in the world. This was the first great work of art I visited in Rome ; and though I afterward went to see it again and again, I was never weary of gazing upon its majestic proportions. But the most precious treasure in this church, of course, is the holy relic from which it receives its name — the chain with which Saint Peter was bound, still sacredly preserved in a box beneath the altar. Near this, built from the ruins of the Baths of Titus, and dating from the days of Constantine, is the Church of San Martino e San Sylvestro. It is supported by Corinthian columns of the finest marble, bearing a very beautiful entab- lature ; and its walls are adorned by the pencils of the two Poussins. Beneath the altar, which is of the neatest pat- tern and the finest proportions, is the descent into the ancient church — a large vaulted hall, once paved with mosaic, and well furnished with various artistic decorations — now nearly subterranean, and tinged with unwholesome vapors, from which the visitor is soon glad to escape. Of equal magnificence, though of inferior antiquity, is the church of Santa Cecilia in Trastevera. It is thought to occupy the ground whereon stood the house of the virgin martyr; and the bath is shown in a chapel, where, they say, she was beheaded. On the tomb is a reclining statue, in a very natural position, and apparently covered with a delicate veil ; which, according to the inscription, exactly represents the attitude and drapery of the body, as it was found there more than a thousand years ago. It is exceedingly graceful, 302 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and wrought with such exquisite art, that the saint seems to sleep in her snowy robe, awaiting the call of the morning. There are few works of art more beautiful than Raphael's painting of this maiden-martyr, as she stands, harp in hand, with eyes upturned to heaven — ■ " The mind, the music, breathing from her face." In a very conspicuous position on the side of the Janicu- lum, and commanding a view of the whole city, stands the church of San Pietro in Montorio. It is a very ancient building, adorned with fine sculpture and painting. In con- nection with it is a convent ; and in the court of its cloister stands a little Doric chapel, built by Bramante. It is circu- lar in form, supported by pillars, and crowned with a dome, resembling somewhat the temples of Vesta. This little' gem of an edifice is erected on the very spot — so says tradi- tion, so say the faithful — where St. Peter was crucified ; and who can doubt that the aperture which the custode showed us in the floor is the identical place where the cross was planted ? Santa Maria in Trastevera, formerly the Basilica Calixta, is said to have been built near the beginning of the third century, and rebuilt near the middle of the fourth. Its antiquity, however, does not constitute its only interest. Its bold portico and lofty nave are supported by ancient pillars of red and black granite, all of different orders and sizes; its entablature is composed of shattered remains of various antique cornices ; and the whole fabric, indeed, seems to be a most extraordinary assemblage of heterogeneous fragments. There is in it, however, a certain majesty, which measurably redeems its deformities ; and its chapels are splendidly adorned by the pencil of Domenichino. In the ancient Campus Veranus, on the road to Tivoli, about a mile beyond the gate, stands the Basilica of San ROMAN ECCLESIOLOG Y. 303 Lorenzo, erected by Constantine the Great. Twenty-four granite pillars separate its aisles from its nave. It has two ambones, richly carved, and inlaid with precious marbles. Its chancel is curiously paved with mosaic, and adorned with twenty-four superb Corinthian columns, in two ranges, one above the other; the lower range descending, through a large open space, far below the present pavement, to the level of the original floor. Beneath the altar is the tomb, inlaid and encrusted with the most costly marbles, where the saint's remains are said to repose, with those also of the martyr Stephen. When the latter were brought hither from their original resting-place, and were about being lowered into the tomb, the former politely removed to one side to make room for them. No wonder the saints are honored by the living, who receive such homage from the dead ! 11 Gesu is interesting, less for its antiquity than for its popularity. Antiquity, indeed, it can scarcely claim, as it was built in the sixteenth century. This church and its convent are the head-quarters of the Jesuits. It is very large and magnificent, but somewhat tawdry in its decora- tions. The sumptuous chapel of St. Ignatius Loyola con- tains the richest altar in the world. Over it hangs a solid globe of lapis-lazuli, which is deemed the largest mass of that precious substance in the possession of man. The gilt bronze tomb of the saint beneath it contrasts singularly with his life of suffering and self-denial. He reposes in a shroud adorned with precious stones, and his tall statue of massy silver is profusely ornamented with gems. By the side of the high altar is the tomb of Cardinal Bellarmino — a cele- brated controversialist of the Roman Catholic Church — some of whose tenets, being a little too liberal to suit the taste of the Vatican, have hitherto prevented his canoniza- tion. Thousands of people flock hither for the music and the preaching every Sabbath morning. The music is the 304 A YEAR IN EUROPE. finest in Rome ; and the preaching, for elocution and effect, surpasses any theatrical performance in Italy. The estab- lishment is said to be immensely wealthy, and I can well believe it ; for the trade in indulgences carried on here is a very lucrative business, and the walls of the church are covered with certificates of the release of souls from purga- tory, every one of which brought a good sum into the coffers of the brotherhood. The Ara Cadi, which dates from the fifth or sixth century, occupies the site of the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and is built partly from its ruins. Its twenty-two columns of Egyptian granite, however, could not have belonged to that renowned fabric, whose pillars, according to Plutarch, were all of Pentelic marble. They differ in style and workman- ship, and were probably transferred hither from different structures. One of them bears an antique inscription, indi- cating that it came from the bedchamber of the Caesars upon the Palatine. The floor and the two ambones are orna- mented with mosaics of curious patterns. The hundred and twenty-four marble steps by which it is approached once formed part of the Temple of Quirinus. The great attrac- tion here is II Santissimo Bambino — an image of the infant Saviour, covered with gems of sufficient value to purchase an empire. It was made by a Franciscan pilgrim from a tree which grew in the garden of Olivet, and colored and var- nished by Saint Luke, while the artist slept. Of course, it has marvellous virtue, and has healed myriads of sick. Frequently it is carried to the chambers of the dying ; and its fees for professional visits amount to as much as the salaries of all the physicians of Rome. Once, when it went to see a patient, it was detained in his chamber, and another Bambino was sent back in its stead; but during the next night, indignant at such detention, it arose and walked home to its temple. Is it wonderful that this wooden doll should ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 305 be worshipped by the prostrate thousands of Rome, when it is exhibited for their veneration in the street? It was in the Ara Cceli that Gibbon, as he sat musing amid the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted monks chanted ves- pers, first conceived the idea of writing the "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." One of the noblest of these churches is the Santa Maria Maggiore. It was built about the middle of the fourth century, and perhaps was the first ever named after the blessed virgin. It stands isolated on the Esquiline, where two great streets terminate in two broad squares; and with its two domes, two fronts, and lofty campanile, presents a very imposing aspect. I cannot say that I admire the archi- tecture of its exterior; but its spacious and richly decorated interior is exceedingly majestic and beautiful. It is the best specimen of the ancient basilica, more than four hundred feet long, and of proportionate width. The aisles are sepa- rated from the nave by two Ionic colonnades, numbering more than forty pillars, thirty-two of which are of white marble. The altar is a large slab of marble, covering a porphyry sarco- phagus, in which formerly slumbered the remains of Bishop Liberius, the founder of this gorgeous fabric ; and is over- shadowed by a magnificent baldichino of bronze, supported by four lofty Corinthian pillars. Its variegated floor, and richly gilded ceiling, exceed all that I had ever imagined of church ornamentation. Its two great side-chapels, dedicated to Sixtus Quintus and the Borghese family, are adorned with jasper and lapis-lazuli, and blaze with a profusion of gems and precious metals. But notwithstanding this prodigality of ornament, the general effect is an impression of calm grandeur, which pleases without astonishing; and often as 1 was there, I always enjoyed, in the contemplation of its architecture, a feeling of tranquil delight. Like this basilica, that of San Giovanni in Laterano has 306 A YEAR IN EUROPE. two fronts, is very large and imposing, and occupies a con- spicuous position. But the contortions of its interior archi- tecture — its broken friezes and fantastic pediments — its spirals, semicircles, and triangles without number — produce a very different impression from that of the Santa Maria Maggiore. Its decorations are extremely rich, and scattered with the utmost profusion, but unfortunately with little taste ; and the G-othic ornament that surmounts the altar, it appears to me, is not in harmony with the rest of the edifice. For these deformities, I believe, Borromini is responsible. The church was originally supported by more than three hundred antique pillars ; but this bold innovator, in repairing it, walled up many of them in the buttresses, which he dis- figured with groups of tasteless pilasters. The canopy over, the altar in the chapel of the Santissimo Sacramento is sus- tained by four fluted columns of bronze, extremely beautiful, which are said to have been brought from the Temple of Jerusalem, but are believed by some to have belonged to the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. The Corsini Chapel contains the tomb of Clement XII., whose remains repose in a large porphyry sarcophagus, brought from the portico of the Pantheon, and once occupied by the ashes of Agrippa. In the baptistry is a large basin, lined with marble, from which tradition affirms Constantine to have been baptized, and from which are now baptized all the Jewish converts to the papal faith in Rome. In a neighboring building is the Scala, Santa, or Holy Staircase, brought hither from Jeru- salem ; the identical steps — we must not doubt it — on which our blessed Lord ascended to the judgment hall of Pilate. Pilgrims are constantly climbing them on their knees, as Ceesar did the steps to the Temple of Quirinus. A printed advertisement at the bottom promises plenary and perpetual indulgence to those who perform this act of piety, and declares this indulgence to be available also on behalf of ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 807 their friends in purgatory. At the top, in a dark niche, behind an iron railing, with a light always burning before it, is a portrait of our Lord, painted by St. Luke, under the direction of an angel ; but the artist and his master, it is thought, must have been rather indifferent painters. The magnificent cathedral of San Paolo fuori la Mura, on the way to Ostia, is one of the grandest Christian temples in the world ; and impressed me more than any other build- ing in Rome or its environs, except St. Peter's itself. In 1823 it was burned down, and has since been rebuilt, but is not yet finished. The original edifice was begun by Con- stantine, and completed by Theodosius and Honorius. Its roof was of wood, but the beams were lined with gold. Its columns, amounting to a hundred and thirty-eight, were deemed the finest collection in the world. It was repaired successively by Leo III. and Sixtus Quintus. The latter built a portico, or covered gallery, leading to it, from the gate of the city, more than a mile in length, supported by marble pillars, and roofed with gilded copper. This magni- ficent structure, however, was destroyed long ago, and has left no trace of its existence. We rode out to the basilica, over an unpaved road, beneath a broiling sun, and were well- nigh suffocated with dust. The glory of the building is not in its external architecture ; though the lofty portico, on the northern side, with its twelve marble columns, is a beautiful erection ; and its campanile, which is not yet completed, is likely to be a very graceful structure. It has a nave and four aisles, divided by four rows of granite columns, amount- ing in all to eighty-two, every one a single piece, and crowned with a Corinthian capital of white marble. The frieze above is ornamented with mosaic portraits of the popes and illustrious fathers of the Church, but the series is not yet complete. Over the high altar is a magnificent canopy, supported by four columns of white alabaster from 308 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Egypt ; and beneath it lie parts, it ia said, of the bodies of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. The sanctuary, as it is called, is paved with fine marble, and adorned with noble columns and rich mosaics. The length of the building is four hun- dred feet, and its width at the transept two hundred and fifty. The adjoining cloister of the Benedictines, around an open square, is as fantastic in its architecture as can well be imagined; and its columns, coupled, twisted, fluted, invert- ed, covered with mosaics, and of all possible forms, Borro- mini himself could not have beaten. The classical reader would deem it unpardonable in me not to mention in this sketch the mausoleum of the modern Virgil. Torquato Tasso sleeps in the Church of Sani 1 Ono- frio, just under the brow of the Janiculum — midway between his birthplace at Sorrento and his dungeon at Fer- rara. On the left, as you enter the church, is a marble slab, with a brief and simple inscription, marking the place where the remains of the poet rested for a long time. They were afterward removed to the chapel close by, and a monument of white marble erected over them, which is one of the most beautiful things in Rome. In the centre is a full-length figure of the poet, with an upturned face of almost angelic loveliness, holding a manuscript in one hand, and a gilded pen in the other. Two heavenly beings are hovering over him, in the act of placing a wreath upon his head. Beneath is the funeral procession in basso-relievo ; the figures being all actual likenesses of the chief personages who officiated on the occasion, or followed in the train. This exquisite memorial is but recently finished; and Pio Nono himself headed the subscription to the work with a liberal sum. From the church, we passed through the cloisters, into the garden ; and sat for an hour under Tasso's Oak ; and mused on the unhappy fate of the poet ; and looked down upon the yellow Tiber, rolling in a thousand whirlpools at our feet; ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. , 309 and gazed upon the Campus Martius, crowded with the structures of the modern city; and the monumental ruins which cover the seven hills beyond, mocking the ancient boast of Rome's eternity. And then we returned to the convent, and entered the room where the poet died, and saw his chair, his writing-desk, the pens which he used, some of his manu- scripts, several articles of his apparel, a cast in wax taken from the dead man's face, and the bay with which the fratti decorated his bier and his sepulchre when they removed his remains — sacredly preserved, but all withered and crisped — a sad memorial of genius, and a melancholy emblem of fame ! These are the words of Tasso, in a letter to a friend, a few days before his dissolution : " I feel that the end of my life is near; being able to find no remedy for this weari- some indisposition, which is superadded to my customary infirmities, and by which, as by a rapid torrent, I see myself swept away, without a hand to save. It is no longer time to speak of my unyielding destiny, not to say the ingratitude of the world, which has longed even for the victory of driv- ing me a beggar to my grave; while I thought that the glory which, in spite of those who will it not, this age shall receive from my writings, was not to leave me thus without reward. I have come to this monastery of St. Onofrio, not only because the air is commended by physicians as more salubrious than in any other part of Rome, but that I may, as it were, commence, in this high place, and in the conver- sation of these devout fathers, my conversation in heaven. Pray Glod for me ; and be assured that as I have loved and honored you in this present life, so in that other and more real life will I do for you all that belongs to charity unfeigned and true. And to the Divine mercy I commend both you and myself." Nor must I omit the grand Rotondo ; consecrated by Agrippa to Jupiter Ultor and all the gods ; and subsequently, 810 . A YEAR IN EUROPE. by Boniface the Fourth, to the Virgin Mary and all the mar- tyrs. The form of the Pantheon is that of a vast circular hall, crowned with a lofty dome : rather, it is a gi-eat dome set upon the ground. It is paved and lined with precious marbles; and its walls are adorned with sixteen columns, and as many pilasters, of giallo antico and pavanazzetto. Between the pillars are eight niches, and between these niches eight altars, each adorned with two smaller pillars of the same kind. The niches were originally occupied by statues of the superior divinities, and the intermediate altars were consecrated to the inferior powers. Those statues, according to the rank of the gods they represented, were of gold, silver, bronze, or marble. The proportions of this temple are most admirable, its diameter and its altitude being equal — about a hundred and fifty feet — and its dome an exact hemisphere. It has no windows, but there is a circular opening in the apex of the dome, twenty-eight feet in diameter, through which the light and the rain alike have free access to the interior. The doors are of massive bronze, probably the identical doors that were placed there by Agrippa. In front is a fine portico, a hundred and ten feet long, and forty-four feet deep; consisting of a double row of Corinthian columns, sixteen in number. Each shaft is a single piece of oriental granite, forty-four feet in height; and all the bases and capitals are of white marble. It looks toward the grand Mausoleum of Augustus on the Campus Martius, and before it of old extended a long area paved with travertine. This is the most perfect specimen of Roman architecture that time and the popes have spared. " They have removed," says Dupaty, " all that made it rich, but left all that made it great." The fine marble which encrusted the exterior long since disappeared, leaving nothing but the naked brick; the silver which lined the dome was stripped off and carried away by the barbarians ; ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 311 and the gilt bronze which covered the roof was taken to make the cannon for the castle of St. Angelo, and the huge twisted columns which sustain the baldichino over the high altar of St. Peter's. We may form some proximate idea of the original magnificence of the building, when we learn that more than four hundred and fifty thousand pounds weight of metal were removed at one time. The Pantheon has served as a model for St. Sophia's at Constantinople, and the majestic cupola of the Basilica Vaticanus. The portico seems to have been built by Agrippa, about thirty years before Christ : the llotondo itself may be a century or two older. The eyes of St. Paul looked upon it; and perhaps here, as on Mars Hill, he rebuked the superstition of the people. It is at least by far the most ancient building in Rome, remaining in so good a state of preservation. Its escape from the common fate of other antique edifices is attributable mainly to its conversion into a church in the beginning of the seventh century. Two hundred years later it was repaired, and dedicated to the Virgin, under the name of Santa Maria ad Martyres, when twenty-eight wagon- loads of holy bones were brought into it from the cemeteries and catacombs, which was the origin of the Feast of All Saints. And here reposes Haffaello ! I close these ecclesiological sketches, which might be indefinitely extended, with a brief notice of the Church of San Stpffano Rotondo, on the Ca3lian Hill. This is one of the oldest religious edifices in Rome, and by many is sup- posed to have been originally a pagan temple, though there is probably no sufficient ground for this opinion, nor is it sustained by the character of the architecture. The build- ing is named from its circular shape, and contains two rows of concentric columns, thirty-six in the outer, and twenty in the inner circle. But the chief attraction of the place is the scries of frescoes upon the walls, all round the building, 312 A YEAR IN EUROPE. exhibiting the sufferings of the martyrs ; albeit, less remark- able for any artistic merit they possess, than for the revolt- ing horrors they display. You see the witnesses of Jesus burned, impaled, beheaded, crucified, flayed alive, torn to pieces, transpierced with arrows, broiled on gridirons, boiled in caldrons of oil, fed with ladles of melted metal, and enduring almost every imaginable kind of cruelty and indig- nity. Doubtless many of the stories thus represented are untrue, and others are exaggerated; it is not very likely, for instance, that St. Denis walked with his head in his hands, after it was struck from his shoulders ; but enough that is well authenticated remains, to show the malice of Satan, and the triumphant power of the Christian faith; and it may not be unprofitable to contemplate these pictorial representa- tions of both. " Though pleasure is not a sin," says the late Doctor Arnold, " yet surely the contemplation of suffering for Christ's sake is a thing most needful for us in our days, from whom in our daily life suffering seems so far removed; and as Cod's grace enabled rich and delicate persons, women, and even children, to endure all the extremities of pain and reproach in times past, so there is the same grace now; and if we do not close ourselves against it, it might in us be equally glorified in a time of trial." He goes on to state his conviction, " from the teaching both of men's wisdom and of Cod's/' that such times of trial are approaching. "And therefore," he adds, "pictures of martyrdom are, I think, very wholesome ; not to be sneered at, nor yet to be looked upon as a mere excitement ; but as a sober reminder to us of what Satan can do to hurt, and what Christ's grace can enable the weakest of his people to bear. Neither should we forget those who by their sufferings were more than con- querors, not for themselves only, but for us, in securing to us the safe and triumphant existence of Christ's blessed faith; in securing to us the possibility — nay, the actual ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 313 enjoyment, had it not been for the antichrist of the priest- hood — of Christ's holy and glorious ecclesia — the congrega- tion and commonwealth of Christ's people." How vastly superior are these truly Christian sentiments to the common inculcations of the Roman ecclesiastics concerning such works of art, and the idolatrous veneration paid them by the E,oman people ! 14 314 A TEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER XXXV. PALACES AND VILLAS. ROMAN PALACES PALAZZO DORIA PALAZZO RUSPOLI PALAZZO COR- SINI PALAZZO BARBARINI PALAZZO BORGHESE PALAZZO FARNESE PALAZZO COLONNA PALAZZO SPADA PALAZZO PONTIFICIO PA- LAZZO VATICANO SUBURBAN TILLAS VILLA FARNESE TILLA NEGRONI VILLA PAMFILIDORIA VILLA MADAMA VILLA BORGHESE' SIMILARITY OF THESE VILLAS. Besides the palaces of the pope and the senator, there are twenty-four private palaces in Rome, all of vast dimen- sions and imposing architecture. To many of them, in the grandeur of their external appearance, our finest hotels and state-capitols bear no comparison ; but within, all seems sacri- ficed to display, and little or nothing is reserved for domestic convenience or personal comfort. The stranger, as he walks down the Corso and across some of the Piazzas, cannot help admiring these grand and gorgeous structures ; but let him enter the arched gateway, ascend the broad marble staircase, and follow his guide through the long suite of apartments, and he will be still more astonished at the unfurnished and uncomfortable condition of the interior. The chief part of the building is occupied with statues and paintings ; while the noble proprietor, with his wife and children, and a cou- ple of half-starved domestics, are living in the most secluded and economical manner in some remote corner of the build- ing, admitting visitors at two pauls a head to their saloons PALACES AND VILLAS. 815 and galleries of art, and tlrus reaping a scanty revenue from the display of their ill-sustained magnificence. They give no social entertainments, receive no company, and are sel- dom seen, except when they ride out in the afternoon, with liveried driver and footman, on the Pincio, or through the grounds of the Villa Borghese. Often, no doubt, they ac- tually suffer for the necessaries of life, in order to keep up the prestige of their ancient grandeur. The principal apartments of many of these spacious edifices are rented to sojourning foresticri ; and some of them are even used as hotels, cafes, bazaars, studios, mechanic shops, while the family occupy some single chamber in one of the upper stories. The case, of course, is different with the cardinals, and such of the nobility as have sufficient income to main- tain them in better state. The Palazzo Porta in the Corso presents three vast fronts, with a spacious court within, surrounded by a beauti- ful portico. The staircase, supported by eight pillars of Oriental granite, conducts to a magnificent gallery, that occupies the four sides of the court, and is crowded with the finest works of art. The Palazzo Puspoli is remarkable for its staircase, which is deemed one of the noblest in Rome. It consists of four flights of steps, each thirty in number ; and every step is one solid piece of marble, nearly ten feet long and two feet broad. It is adorned with autique statues, and leads to two noble galleries, the walls of which are covered with pictures. The lower story is now the Caffe JSfuovo. The Palazzo Corsini is a building of vast magnitude, and one of the handsomest in Rome. It has a double staircase of most imposing architecture, conducting to an extensive gallery of painting and sculpture, and a library of four thousand volumes. It is situated in the Lungara of the Trastevera, and has a pretty villa connected with it, whose 316 A YEAR IN EUROPE, classic grounds, reaching to the very crest of the Janiculurn, command a pleasant prospect of the city. The Palazzo Bqrbarini is not externally attractive ; but it contains some of the finest works of art, among which are Raffael's Fornarina, and Gruido's immortal portrait of Beatrice Cenci, " the picture that enchants the world." The latter is certainly one of the loveliest things ever exe- cuted by human hand. No artist may sit before it, even with a cedar pencil ; yet copies of it are seen in all the shops and studios of Rome, and circulated throughout the world. It is said that the finest ever taken is by our countryman, Sully, and this is entirely from memory. The Palazzo Borghese is a superb edifice, belonging to an illustrious family, long celebrated for their taste and their' magnificence. It is remarkable for its vast dimensions; for the noble portico, sustained by ninety-six granite columns, which surrounds its court ; and still more for a certain well- proportioned magnificence, pervading every part, and giving the whole mansion, from basement to attic, an aspect of neatness, order, and opulence. The gallery, containing eight hundred and fifty-six paintings, is arranged in twelve large rooms, each of which has a separate catalogue in French and Italian for the use of visitors. The Palazzo Farnese occupies one side of a handsome square, adorned with two fountains. It was planned by Michael Angelo, and its apartments were painted by Dorne- nichino and Annibale Caracci. The latter toiled eight years on these frescoes, and was rewarded with the princely sum of five hundred crowns, equal to six hundred dollars ! The palace is of immense size and great elevation; but it was all built from the plundered fragments of the Flavian Amphitheatre. The majestic vestibule is supported by twelve massive pillars of Egyptian granite. Within, three ranges of arcades rise one above another around a spacious PALACES AND VILLAS. 817 court, and several entrances open into suites of magnificent apartments, with ceilings beautifully carved. In the portico stands the sarcophagus of white marble taken from the tomb of Cecilia Metella. The roof and cornice were some- what damaged in 1849 by the French batteries on the Jani- culum ; and we saw several marks left by those formidable missiles. The Palazzo Colonna has an indifferent exterior ; but its great extent, its ample court, and its teeming galleries, can- not fail to excite the admiration of the visitor. Its stair- case, lined with statues; its apartments, decorated with pic- tures; its library, filled with a choice collection of old books and manuscripts ; its great hall, forty feet in breadth, and more than two hundred and twenty in length, supported by Corinthian columns of giallo antico, and adorned on the sides and vaulted ceiling with painting and gilding inter- mingled; and its terraced gardens, extending along the western slope of the Quirinal, with their flowery walks, and tropical fruits, and living walls of box, and deep arcades of ilex, and colossal fragments of the Temple of the Sun, pre- sent a scene of splendor and beauty seldom equalled even in Italy. The place derives an additional interest from its his- tory, as the residence of Julius the Second, of Cardinal Borromeo, and the noble Colonna. The last named was a hero worthy of antiquity. When overtaken by his pur- suers, and asked who he was, he replied, " I am Stephen Colonna, a citizen of Rome ;" and when, in the last extremity of battle, one cried out to him, " Where is now your fortress, Colonna V he laid his hand upon his heart, and proudly answered, " Here \" The Palazzo Sjoada, though less inviting externally than many of those already described, will be one of the first to attract the attention of the classical tourist, because it con- tains the statue of Pompey, at the base of which "great 018 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Caesar fell." This statue was originally placed by Porupey himself in the senate-house which he had erected; and when that edifice was shut up, it was raised by order of Augustus upon the summit of a marble arch opposite the entrance of Pompey's Theatre. During the convulsions of the Gothic wars it was thrown down, and for ages lay buried in ruins. About the beginning of the seventeenth century it was discovered in a partition wall between two houses; the proprietors of which, after some altercation, valuing it only for the marble, agreed to saw it asunder, and divide it between them. Fortunately, the Cardinal di Spada heard of it, and by a timely purchase rescued from destruction one of the most interesting relics of Roman antiquity. It is eleven feet high, and of Parian marble. There is a broad crimson stain upon one of the legs, a little above the ankle, said to be the blood of Csesar, which the sapient authoress of "Reflected Fragments" declares must not be questioned; and truth to say, though one might think two thousand years sufficient for the effacement of any such mark, it would require a good degree of art to produce a better imi- tation. During the French occupation of the city sixty years ago, it was carried to the Coliseum, and placed upon the stage of a temporary theatre erected for the entertain- ment of the soldiery, when its right arm was sawed off to aid the facility of transportation. There is also here a sit- ting statue of Aristotle, and a series of remarkable bas- reliefs from the Ohiesa clella Santf Agnesia. In 1849 seve- ral shot from the French batteries struck the walls of the palace, some of which broke through the massive structure, but, fortunately, injured none of these valuable antiques. The Palazzo Pontificio on the Quirinal, the ordinary sum- mer residence of the pope, ought of course to be more splendid than any of those I have mentioned, and Murray pronounces it " the most habitable and princely palace in PALACES AND VILLAS. 319 Rome." Its exterior presents two long fronts, of rather simple and unostentatious architecture. The court within is about three hundred and fifty feet by four hundred, sur- rounded by a lofty portico, with a broad staircase conducting to the papal apartments. We first entered a grand hall, two hundred feet long, and totally without furniture, but having a very gorgeous ceiling. Beyond this we came to the private apartments of the pope — his audience-chamber, dining-saloon, bedroom, and study, constructed and furnished on a grand scale, exceedingly neat, perhaps I should say splendid, but not gaudy. On the identical brass bedstead which we saw in the dormitory, expired Pius the Seventh. Next we came to an elegant suite of apartments which that pontiff fitted up for the Emperor of Austria; and others decorated by the present pope, with paintings and tapestry of the utmost beauty. This palace has been for many years the seat of the conclave for the election of the Sovereign Pontiff, whose name is announced from the balcony over the main entrance to the people in the piazza below. This piazza is called Monte Cavallo, from the two colossal statues of horses held by young men which stand in its centre. These are Grecian productions, perhaps the works of Praxiteles and Phidias; and were transported to Rome by Constantine from Alexan- dria, and placed in his Baths, whence Sixtus Quintus transferred them to their present position. The gardens ad- joining the palace in the rear are spacious, well shaded with evergreens, refreshed by several fine fountains, and adorned with urns, statues, and various antique ornaments ; but the parallelogramic arrangement of walks and parterres is intole- rably French, and the organ played by water at a paul per tune for visitors discourses most hideous discords. Pio Nono has not summered here since his trip to Gaeta, preferring a greater proximity to the fortress of Sant' Angelo ! 320 A YEAR IN EUROPE. The Palazzo Vaticano may well close this list of Roman palaces. Its exterior architecture is neither imposing nor beautiful. It is not even uniform and symmetrical; but looks like a cluster of buildings huddled together without much regard to appearance or propriety. This is easily accounted for by the fact that its several parts were erected by different architects, at different periods, and for different purposes. Begun early in the sixth century, the work has been con- tinued under successive pontiffs, with frequent alterations and enlargements, reparations and improvements, down to the present time. All the great architects that Italy has produced since its commencement have been employed on one part or another of the edifice ; and Brain ante, Raffaello, Fontana, Maderno, and Bernini, successively displayed their respective talents in its embellishment. It is of immense extent, covering a space twelve hundred feet in length and a thousand in breadth. Its elevation is proportionate, and the number of apartments it contains is incredible. Its halls, saloons, galleries, and porticoes, are on a grand scale, and give an idea of magnificence truly Soman. The walls are neither wainscoted, nor hung with tapestry; but animated by the genius of the sublimest of modern artists. It is en- tered at the north side of the Grand Basilica of Saint Peter, by four successive flights of marble steps, called the Scala Regia, adorned with a double row of marble pillars — pro- bably the most superb staircase in the world. Through its galleries of painting and statuary, its hall of inscriptions, its museum of antiquities, and its unrivalled library, I wandered again and again for many hours together ; but to enumerate their contents were to write a volume, and to speak critically of a hundredth part of what I saw were to furnish matter for a library. I must mention a few of Rome's suburban villas, interest- PALACES AND VILLAS. 821 ing, so many of them, for their fine situations, beautiful gardens, extensive prospects, elegant casini, and numerous works of art. The Villa Farnese, seated on the crest of the Palatine, covers, with its gardens, the vast substructions and scattered fragments of the imperial palace; and commands a full view of the Forum, the Capitol, the Coliseum, and most of the ancient city. "Hence the seven hills, and hence is seen, Whate'er great Rome can boast, the world's triumphant queen." The Villa Negroni, once the favorite retreat of Sixtus Quintus, encloses an immense area on the Esquiline and the Viminal, covered with groves of evergreens, containing two spacious and handsome buildings, and the remains of the celebrated rampart raised by Tarquinius Priscus. Its most valuable marbles, however, have been removed, and part of its grounds converted into vegetable gardens. The Villa Pamfilidoria is supposed to occupy the same ground as the Gardens of the Emperor Galba. It is re- markable for its extent, magnificence, and valuable antiqui- ties. It was on this elevated spot that Porsenna pitched his camp more than two thousand years ago ; and Marshal Oudi- not planted his batteries here in 1849. The grounds are laid out with great regularity, after the French manner; but the luxuriance of nature is constantly counterworking the formal art of man ; and the profusion of foliage and water renders it a delightful resort in the bright mornings of May. " Here many a cool retreat is found, Far raised o'er all the heights around." Nowhere did I see a finer cluster of stone-pines; and 0, how sweetly sang the nightingales among the cedars ! The Villa Madama, on the side of Monte Mario, is now 11* 322 A YEAR IN EUROPE. interesting chiefly for its historical associations. In its gardens is a rural theatre, formed by the natural windings of a little dell, and delightfully shaded with trees and shrub- bery. In the golden days of the Medici, this sylvan scene was crowded by the polished Romans, who assembled to listen to the compositions of rival poets, and decide the pri- ority of contesting orators. After these literary exhibitions, the spectators were regaled in lofty halls, planned by Raf- faello, and painted by Giulio Romano, with all the delicacies of the orchard and the garden, amid strains of the sweetest music. But those clays are no more, the Medician line is extinct, and the villa is hastening to decay. The view from the hill above it is charming : the Tiber winding through its green meadows, spanned by the memorable Pons Milvius, . with its arched tower; the plain consecrated by the victory of Constantine; the Campus Martius, covered with the buildings of the modern city; while the seven hills beyond, and the Campagna stretching away to the mountains, "Make great display of Rome's immortal ruins." The Villa Borghese, four miles in circumference, covers the brow of a hill behind the Pincio. Its noble vistas, numerous fountains, ornamental buildings, and interesting collection of antiquities, entitle it to be regarded as the first of Roman villas, and worthy of comparison with the luxuri- ous retreats of Sallust and Lucullus. Portions of the grounds are laid out iu parallelograms, whose walks are adorned with temples, shaded with laurels, and refreshed with sparkling- cascades; but here and there a winding path allures the' visitor into a wilderness of plants and flowers, abandoned to their native luxuriance, and watered by streamlets murmur- ing through their own artless channels. The interior of its spacious casino is lined with the richest marbles, supported by the noblest pillars, and filled with the finest productions PALACES AND VILLAS. 323 of the pencil and the chisel. Here is the famous reclining statue of Pauline Buonaparte by Canova, a work of won- drous beauty. Such, iudeed, is the splendor of these apartments, and the preciousness of their contents, that no sovereign in Europe can boast a gayer residence, or a richer gallery. The gates of this paradise are always open to the public ; and whenever the weather is good, especially on Sunday, multitudes of people of all descriptions, from the red-shanked cardinal down to the rag-screen contadine, are to be seen moving in every direction among the trees, or sitting in picturesque groups around the fountains. Fre- quently, through these delightful groves, fragrant with blos- soms and musical with singing birds, I ranged for hours together, and never wearied of their varied beauty. The Villa Ludovisi, famous for the Aurora of Guercino on the ceiling of its casino ; and the Villa Abani, with its two huge columns of alabaster, and its numerous pillars of granite, porphyry, serpentine, verd antique, and other pre- cious marbles; with all the rest, I pass by, lest I should weary the reader with the similarity of detail. In describing a few of these charming seats, one virtually describes them all. They may differ in extent and magnitude, but they are nearly the same in their principal features, their natural graces, and their artificial decorations. All of them enclose some of the same ancient ruins, contain some of the same interesting antiques, and present some of the same delight- ful views of the Historic City — " The field of freedom, faction, fame, and blood !" 324 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER XXV. ANTEMNE AND FIDENE. SOLITARY RAMBLE ON THE CAMPAGNA INTERESTING VIEW FIERCE DOGS A RUIN WALK TO ANTEMNE CHARCOAL SKETCH — A SOLDIER ARTIST SITE OF THE CITY GREAT-BATTLE GROUND PONTE SALARO SCENE OF NERO'S SUICIDE NECROPOLIS AND CITADEL OF FIDENE HISTORICAL SKETCH. There is nothing I enjoy more than a solitary ramble iu the country. Even at home, I love to wander at leisure through " the grand old woods," or sit down in the shade by some rippling brook, and give myself up to revery. But in Italy, where every hill has borne a city, and every stream reddened with battle-blood, and every foot of soil entombed its hero — where every rock is a history, every ruin an epic poem, and every ivy-mantled tower a sermon for the heart — there is an indescribable pleasure in such au excursion, and the soul, communing with the past, learns something of her own littleness, sees the vanity of man and all his works, and looks away from the perishable to the eternal. One charming morning, with Dennis's " Cities and Ceme- teries of Etruria" under my arm, I sauntered along the old Flaminian Way, little knowing, and as little caring, whither I went, till I found myself on a lofty precipice overlooking the Tiber, eight miles above the city. Here I seated myself upou a block of tufo, which Etruscan hands two thousand years ago had hewn into its quadrangular form, unfolded my ANTEMNE AND EIDENE. 325 map, and for two full hours feasted eye and soul with the strange beauty of the scene around me. Below me, visible for many miles, flowed the classic Tiber, in many a graceful curve, through a rich valley, bounded with gently sloping hills, and here and there a bold promon- tory looking down into its golden current. On my left, between romantic cliffs, brilliant with innumerable flowers, descended a foaming torrent — the Cremera of ancient story. On its bank, five miles above, where I could plainly see the Isola Farnese, once stood the populous and powerful Veii, for more than three centuries the most formidable foe of Home. There were the heights on which Camillas encamped before her gates, and from which he wept over the flight of her miserable children. Near where I sat — perhaps upon the very spot — the noble band of the Fabii built their castle, and in that valley beneath me were lured within the fatal ambush. On a small eminence, just across the Tiber, was the Castel Giubeleo, where once frowned the arx of Fidene, the constant ally of the Veientes in their frequent conflicts with the Romans. Just below it stands the Villa Spada, upon the supposed site of the ancient Villa Phaon. It was there Romulus concealed his soldiers, till he had drawn the Fidenates without the gates of the city ; and there Nero disgracefully terminated his most disgraceful life. Farther down the river, just where the Anio flows into it from Tivoli, was another promontory, which of old bore the arx of Antemne, the first of the neighboring cities subdued by Romulus. With the aid of my glass, I could trace the little valley of the Anio to the base of the Sabine Mountains, eighteen or twenty miles distant. Never looked that pictur- esque range more beautiful than on that morning. Never was the light along their lower slopes of a richer and softer tint, and never gleamed their distant snow-robed summits with a diviner glory. 826 A YEAR IN EUROPE. As I sat in a half-dreanry mood, superinduced partly by the delicious languor of the atmosphere, partly bj r the be- wildering beauty of the surrounding scenery, and partly by its melancholy historic associations, the dull booming sound of the cannon from the Castle of St. Angelo announced the hour of noon, and the great bell of St. Peter's sent its sweet echoes over the hills. Then I arose, and pursued my walk, through a scene of dreary desolation, strewn every- where with the ruins of long-departed power and splendor. Returning to Eome across the wild campagna, I discovered some distance before me what I supposed to be a hay-stack ; but upon my approach, a number of very formidable dogs rushed out upon me, and I was obliged to do valiant battle for my life. I soon ascertained that it was tenanted by other animals than dogs — certain very suspicious-looking bipeds, in hairy goat-skin breeches — whether men or satyrs, I could not say. I afterward saw several of these shep- herd's huts — for such they were — which I deemed it prudent not to approach too near. On the declivity of a hill I passed the mouth of what I first took to be a natural cave in the rock ; but, upon examination, found to consist of great square masses of stone, without any appearance of mortar; and near it were the remains of several similar arches, which to- gether with it must have constituted the ruins of some ancient building of vast dimensions. The arch seemed still to serve, in a manner, its original purpose ; for there was some straw within, with a stool, two or three kettles, a.nd traces of a recent fire ; but, remembering my late adventure, I abstained from any very close inspection of the premises. When I reached the city, I was told that I had been where it was deemed very dangerous for any person, especially a forestiero, alone and unarmed, to venture. Not satisfied with the distant view I had enjoyed of those ancient cities, the next week I set forth, in company with ANTEMNE AND EIDENE. 827 two American gentlemen, on a pedestrian excursion toward Antemne and Fidene. The cities themselves, indeed, are no more, having perished more than two thousand years ago ; nor are there any traces of them remaining, except the sepulchral excavations in the surrounding cliffs, with here and there a detached block of hewn tufo, and innumerable fragments of pottery ; but the hills whereon they stood are near the ancient Via Salaria, on the left bank of the Tiber, one of them three miles above Rome, and the other five. These cities appear to have been taken, originally, from the Siculi, by the Pelasgi; and were afterward, according to Dionysius, for a time, possessed by the Sabines ; but were at length conquered by the Romans, and reduced to the condi- tion of Roman colonies. Antemne was one of the three whose daughters became the mothers of the Roman race. Romulus, to people the new city which he had built upon the Palatine, offered an asylum to fugitive slaves, insolvent debtors, and all sorts of criminals and adventurers. By this means, he soon filled the place with men, such as they were; and his next care was to provide a proportionate number of women. For this purpose, he sought an alliance with the Sabines, but they rejected the proposal with disdain. Hereupon, by advice of the Senate, he proclaimed a magnificent feast in honor of Neptune, and invited the Sabines from all the surrounding cities. They came in crowds, and brought their wives and daughters with them. While their attention was taken up with the games, the young Romans, with drawn swords, rnshed in among them, seized the damsels, and bore them away in their arms. The fathers, brothers, and lovers, of course, were greatly incensed, and vowed revenge. An- temne, being nearest to Rome, was first in the war. Romu- lus, however, prevailed against her. In a short time she 328 A YEAR IN EUROPE. was subdued, her inhabitants removed to Rome, and a Roman colony placed there in their stead. We passed the gardens of Sallust, and left the city by the Porta Salaria. Just within the gate we saw a young Ger- man, in the French uniform, drawing a charcoal sketch upon a whitewashed wall. It was Gasparoni and his band, attacked by the Roman soldiers. The figure of the chief, as large as life, was exceedingly fine, and the whole scene was full of spirit. The soldiers and the robbers were grappling one another with desperate energy, shooting, stabbing, hurl- ing one another headlong down the rocks; and many a poor fellow, doubtless after having done his best, lay stretched in death upon the ground. But meritorious as the picture was, the artist himself was a far more interesting study. He told us that from his childhood he had been an enthusiastic lover of art, and cherished a great desire to become a painter ; but his purse was not commensurate with his ambition. He joiuecl the French army, thinking that if he could get to Ptome, he might find opportunity to indulge his passion and improve his talent. Hitherto, however, he had been unsuccessful. Posted at the Porta Salaria, and having plenty of time, he amused himself in the manner I have mentioned. After fifteen minutes of pleasing conversation with him, we offered him a few baiocchi, which he very reluctantly accepted, and went on our way toward the " many-towered Antemne." It is a pleasure to walk the beautiful macadamized roads of Italy, especially here upon the picturesque Campagna, where every object is so rich in historical associations; and still more, when one has such companions as I had that day, to share his thoughts and feelings. With G-ell's Topography, and map in our hands, we were soon among the ruins of Antemne. The ruvns,l say; but there is scarcely anything ANTEMNE AND PIDENE. 329 to be seen, worthy of such designation. The site, indeed, has been most satisfactorily ascertained ; but there is nothing to indicate, except to the practiced eye of the antiquary, that the place was ever occupied by a city. It lies on the left of the Via Salaria, just below the junction of the Anio with the Tiber. It is a lofty table-land, nearly square, and falling off precipitously on all sides, except that toward Rome, where a narrow ridge unites it to the neighboring hill. Such situations were always chosen by the earlier in- habitants of Italy for the sites of their cities. We easily found the places of the four gates indicated by Gell, and the two eminences on which he locates the two citadels. Near the base of the cliff, on the southern side, is a horizontal excavation — probably a tomb, and doubtless of Etruscan date. Higher up, and a little farther toward the west, is a mass of rocks, piled one upon another in a very regular manner; but the angles are so rounded by the abrasion of centuries, that it is difficult to say with confi- dence whether it is the work of nature or of man. There is another cavern near the top of the cliff, and here and there a block of tufo in the plain below. With these exceptions, we saw nothing that could be called ruins. It would be a wonder, indeed, if there were any, after the ground has been ploughed and pastured for so many centuries. But it is no less a wonder, that a city which perished before the age of authentic history, should, without any such remains, have preserved unquestionable indications of its former existence ; and yet, there is no ancient city, the precise locality of which has been more indubitably ascertained, than that of Virgil's " Turrigerse Antemnse." But whatever of interesting relics may be lacking in the site, is abundantly compensated by its associations and adjacent scenery. Behind us lay the beautiful grounds of the Villa Albani, the Villa Borghese, and the Monte 330 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Pincio — a perfect forest of flowers and evergreens, beyond which rose the domes and towers of the Eternal City. On our left, at the base of the cliff on which we stood, rolled the Tiber in its majesty, whirling along huge masses of ice from the mountains, as anciently the bodies of Sabine and Etruscan soldiers. Farther down, but in full view, stood the ancient Milvian Bridge — now the Ponte Molle, where the hopes of Paganism perished with Maxentius. Along the opposite side of the river was easily traced the Via Flaminia, at the base of a lofty precipice, in which yawned the dark mouth of a cavern, the celebrated tomb of the Nasoni. Just before us, almost within a stone' s-throw, the quiet Anio wound its way through the green meadows, till it fell into the Tiber. And there at our right was the Ponte Salaro — a venerable relic of antiquity — perhaps the identical bridge which, in the year of Rome 397, was the scene of a fierce en- counter between the Romans and the Gauls, encamped on opposite banks of the stream ; and where Manlius Torquatus, like another David, smote his Goliath to the dust. On the same ground Tolumnius, the king of Etruria, had long before fallen beneath the sword of Cornelius Cossus. A mile or two farther up the same river stood the famous Mons Sacer, to which, in the days of the Dictator Largius, the aggrieved soldiery and citizens of Rome retired to organize a distinct and independent community; whither an embassy was sent from the Senate to solicit their return, and where Meuenius Agrippa put forth the celebrated fable, so finely told by Livy, of the revolt of the members of the body against the belly — a conference which resulted in the reconciliation of the people, the reformation of the government, and the insti- tution of the office of the Tribunes. Two miles and a half farther up the Tiber, on a high bluff in a bend of the river, stood the Gastel Giubeleo — so called because it was erected in one of the years of Jubilee. ANTEMNE AND FIDENE. 331 It is nothing more than a large farm-house, and interesting only because it occupies the ground once occupied by the citadel of Fidene. Between this and the height on which we stood was a broad plain, with the Tiber on the left, and a low range of hills on the right. This was the great battle- ground between the Romans and their foes, in the earlier periods of their history; and probably there is no other place in Italy which has been so often the scene of bloody contests. It was here that Romulus pursued the flying Fidenates within their very gates, when he first laid upon them the Roman yoke. It was here that Tullus Hostilius encamped before their walls, until he starved them into a surrender. It was here that Ancus Martius led his forces, when he entered the city by a cuniculus. It was here that Tarquinius Priscus thundered along with his legions, when he stormed the citadel. It was here that the Consuls Valerius and Lucretius marched with their heavy engines to batter down the fortifications. It was here that their successor, Largius Flavius, sis years afterward, sat down with his flock of locusts, till famine gained for him what he could not achieve by the sword. It was here that the Dictator A. Servilius Priscus, sixty-three years later, marched his beleaguering host, to tunnel the solid tufa, and work his way underground into the centre of the city. It was here that Mamilius Emilius Mamercinus, four hundred and twenty-three years before Christ, chased the fugitives from the plain into their fortresses, entering after them, taking possession of their city, and bringing them effectually and finally under the Roman yoke. And it was here, on the banks of the Anio, and along the Tiber, that the Romans contested the ground with Hannibal, when he marched from Capua ; and met in deadly conflict the invading Gauls. Ah, what scenes of carnage have been witnessed from this height ! But now thousands of sheep are feeding peacefully in those fields ; 832 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and skylarks are soaring and singing as blithely over the scene, as if it had never reddened with blood, nor trembled with the tumnlt of battle. We descended the hill, and crossed the Ponte Salaro. This bridge, as well as the Ponte Molle, was blown up by the Romans in 1849, to cut off the approach of the French army; but the injury was comparatively small, and was soon afterward remedied. The old Etruscan work is still plainly seen in the basement of its piers. Just beyond it is a very ancient building — it may have been a tomb or a tower — sur- mounted by a modern structure of the middle ages, and forming a very picturescpie object in the landscape. ' It is now an Osteria. We entered, and found it occupied by a man, a boy, three dogs, five cats, and some millions of fleas. In one corner was a box filled with earth, upon which a fire was burning, and the only way of escape for the smoke was the door. We sat down here to dispatch our luncheon, but it was impossible to remain long in such an atmosphere. On the other side of the road, a little farther on, we passed several tombs hewn in the rock, some evidently of Etruscan origin, and some, perhaps, of Roman. A walk of two miles and a' half brought us to the Villa Spacla, just back of which, on a small conical hill, was the ancient Villa Pliaon. The road passes around the western base of the hill ; but we went through the field on the other side of it, probably the very ground over which Nero passed when he fled hither from the vengeance of Rome. It was then a thicket of brambles; G-ell calls it "a little wood;" but we found it an orchard of olive trees. When the tyrant heard that G-alba had taken up arms against him, he first thought of taking poison, then ran to plunge into the Tiber, and finally fled the city on horseback. Finding himself pursued, he left his horse, quit the highway, and crept through the bushes and briers to the back of Phaon's Villa. Here he drew his ANTEMNE AND PIDENE. 333 dagger to stab himself, but bis courage again failed him. Tben be desired one of bis freedmen to kill him ; but bis freedman declined the honor. Next he requested a domes- tic to die first, in order to inspire him with courage ; but his domestic could not see the reasonableness of such a request. At length he put a dagger to his throat, and the servant who would not die for him assisted him to die for himself; and thus fitly terminated his brutal and bloody life. Parts of the walls of the villa are still seen upon the hill ; and huge masses of stone imbedded in a strong cement, with fragments of granite columns, have rolled down into the valley below. Just beyond this are the tombs of Ficlene, excavated in the rock beneath tbe city walls. We struck a light, and entered one of the openings, and found ourselves in large rooms, fifty feet square, which communicated one with another. There were niches for cinerary urns, and benches of rock for the bodies of the dead. One we found tenanted by a shepherd, whose entire knowledge concerning the origin and history of his strange abode was comprised in three words — u ll grotta antica." The top of the hill bears une- quivocal remains of masonry ; the walls are easily traced, and the sites of the several gates are quite evident. On the almost insulated height occupied by tbe Castel G-iubeleo, it is supposed, with great probability, stood the principal arx; and there may have been another on a similar elevation to the northeast of it, where are many tombs in the cliff, and traces of foundations on the top. The rugged steep on all sides is covered with a dense growth of briers, and the whole area above is adorned with white daisies and purple crocuses. Fidene was a great and powerful city in the days of Rom- ulus ; but she has utterly perished, and 'the ruin of Antemne is not more complete. The occasion of her first capture was the seizure by her citizens of several boats, sent down the ' 334 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Tiber from Crustumerium, laden with corn for the Romans. Her subsequent history is nothing but a series of struggles against ber conqueror — of successive rebellions and submis- sions to Rome. Again and again she threw off the yoke; again and again it was laid with double weight upon her shoulder. At length Rome deemed it best to pluck the thorn from her side; and about four hundred and twenty- three years before Christ, Fidene was totally demolished. But the place was re-colonized under the emperors, and for some time it was a flourishing Roman settlement, and a favor- ite resort of the Roman people. During the reign of Tiberius, one Attilius gave a gladiatorial entertainment there, when a wooden amphitheatre, erected for the purpose, broke down, killing fifty thousand spectators. It is now a wild dreary down, where shepherds lead their flocks ; and after having walked across and around it, up and clown the hills, in every direction, and finding nothing more than I have mentioned, we returned to Rome, and entered the gate just before sunset, having walked not less than eighteen miles during the day. OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 335 CHAPTER XXVI. OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL HISTORICAL SKETCH OUR VISIT — THE CAMPAGNA ISOLA FARNESE ANTONIO VALERI TARPEIAN ROCK UTTER DESOLATION PONTE SODO NECROPOLIS PAINTED TOMB FORUM OF ROMAN MUNICIPIUM COLUMBARIA SECOND AND THIRD VISITS ADDITIONAL DISCOVE- RIES SERPENTS PIAZZA D'ARMI — TEMPLE OF JUNO LA SCALETTA GROTTA CAMPANA RETURN TO ROME. Veii, the most opulent and powerful city of ancient Etru- ria, was situated eleven miles north of Rome. It is said to have heen founded by Propertius, and was at the acme of its prosperity eight hundred years before Christ. Dionysius says that it was equal in extent to Athens, and not inferior in architecture to Rome. Its circumference, as indicated by the present aspect of the ground and the remaining traces of the wall, could not have been less than six or seven miles. The style of the masonry differs entirely from that of the Romans, consisting of large blocks of stone, generally' rectangular, and fitted together without any sort of cement, proving a much higher antiquity than any remains of the neighboring city of Romulus. Of this great city we have no certain information, except what the Roman writers have furnished us in the record of their wars. Her chronicles are notices merely of successive contests with her powerful foe; and since "the man, and 836 A YEAR IN EUROPE. not the lion, drew the picture," chiefly of successive disas- ters and defeats. It is melancholy, indeed, to trace her bloody trail across the field of history; hut let us remember, that except for that bloody trail, we should never have known so much as the name of Veii, and her eleven Etrurian sis- ters. Florus calls the Veientes " the unceasing and annual enemies of Rome;" and no less than fourteen distinct wars with that powerful rival, all within four hundred and fifty years, are registered by the historian. The first of these was with Romulus, to avenge his capture of the neighboring city of Fidene. The second was in aid of Fidene against Tullus Hostilius. The third was in self- defence, against the ambition of Ancus Martins. The fourth was in alliance with eleven other cities of Etruria against Tarquinius Friscus. In all these wars, of course, the Romans were conquerors, as their own historians tell the story. About the year of Rome 180, the Veientes again threw off the yoke, and were followed by the rest of the con- federation, and the succeeding twenty years was a series of bloody contests with Servius Tullius ; whose arms, however, according to the records, were always victorious. Sixty-five years after this war ended, the Veientes espoused the cause of Tarquinius Superbus, who for his profligacies and oppres- sions had been driven from the throne of Rome ; and a bat- tle ensued near the Arsian Wood, in which Aruns, the son of the exiled king, and Brutus the first consul, fell by each other's hands; after which the forces of confederate Etruria, under Porsenna their leader, marched to the inva- sion of the Eternal City. After another treaty, followed by twenty-four years of peace, the Veientes were battling once more with the Roman legions. Servius Cornelius Cossus defeated them as usual, and then granted them a truce ; but in five years more the rebels were again in the field, and marched boldly up to the Roman camp, and dared the foe to OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 837 the combat; upon which a severe battle ensued, and very likely the Romans came off second best, though the historians assert the contrary. In the following year, while Rome was pressed by the Veientes on the one hand, and the Equi and the Volsci on tbe other, occurred an instance of patriotic devotion to which there is scarcely a recorded parallel. When several plans had been suggested for repelling the Veientes, and the senate seemed greatly perplexed and straitened, Ceso Fabius, the consul, and chief of the Roman patricians, arose and said : " Conscript Fathers, look ye to the Equi and the Volsci, and leave the Veientes to the Fabii. The republic hath need of men and money elsewhere : be this war at our expense: we will engage to uphold the majesty of the Roman name/' The next day the whole body of the Fabii — three hundred and six in number — all of the noblest patrician blood, with the consul at their head, marched forth from the city, amid the prayers and joyful shouts of the populace. " Never," says Livy, " did an army so small in number, or so great in action, and in the admiration of their countrymen, mai'ch through the streets of Rome." When they reached the Oremera, they pitched their camp on a precipice-girt hill, and further protected it by a double fosse and numerous towers. Here they main- tained themselves for a year against all the efforts of the Veientes to dislodge them, ravaging their territory, and an- noying them in many ways; till the consul, Emilius Mamercus, defeated them, and obliged them to sue for peace. The next year, however, they renewed the war, and determined to accomplish by stratagem what they had here- tofore vainly attempted by force. They laid an ambush on the banks of the Cremera, and then sent shepherds down the valley with their flocks. The Fabii, beholding these from the height of their castle, descended like an eagle 15 388 A YEAR IN EUROPE. upon the prey. But as they were returning with the spoil they had taken, the foe rushed forth upon them in over- whelming numbers. Bravely did they battle for their lives, till the last man fell covered with wounds ; and only a boy escaped, who lived to preserve the race, and be the progeni- tor of Fabius Maximus. This achievement of the Veientes was but the prelude to a nobler victory. They routed the Roman army under the command of the Consul Menenius, and took possession of the Janiculan Hill. Here they maintained themselves for many months, menacing and annoying the city, till they were at length dislodged by the consuls. The next year they were again defeated by Valerius, and the year following by Manlius, from whom they obtained a peace for forty - years. In the year of Rome 809 they resumed hostilities. Seven years later they espoused the cause of the Fidenates, whe had thrown off the Roman yoke; and slew the Roman ambassadors sent to demand an explanation. Soon after this they engaged the foe, under the command of Mamelius Emilius, on the bank of the Tiber; and Lars Tolumnius, their king and commander, was cut down by the sword of Cornelius Cossus. Again and again they met their enemies on the same field, and again and again the crimsoned cur- rent of the Tiber reported the slaughter to the inhabitants of Rome. Nay, again and again they marched up to the very gates of the city, and the foster : children of the she- wolf quailed before them. At length, in the year of Rome 349, the Romans laid siege to Veii; and being at peace elsewhere, brought their whole force to bear against their ancient foe. When the siege had already continued eight years with little or no suc- cess, a remarkable phenomenon furnished the occasion of victory. The Alban Lake, occupying the crater of an extinct volcano, suddenly rose to an unprecedented height, OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 339 and threatened to burst its boundary, and devastate the Campagna with floods. Sacrifices were offered to the gods, and messengers were sent to Delphi to consult the oracle. The answer was, that if the Romans would drain the lake by tunnelling the mountain, they should save their city, and stand victors on the walls of Veii. Meantime, a prophecy to the same effect had been uttered by one of the Veientes, first to a Roman soldier, and subsequently to the Roman senate. In the course of another year the lake was drained as the goddess directed, and the Romans fought with new confidence of victory. Camillus, who was now appointed dictator, and assumed the command of the army, taking a hint perhaps from the tunnel at Albano, began to work a citniculus, or mine, under the citadel of Veii. The siege had lasted ten years when the cuniculus was finished. It was carried up to the very floor of the Temple of Juno, which was within the citadel. The king was there, con- sulting the oracle, when Camillus with his men burst through the floor, and ascended as from the infernal regions, and took possession of the city. So runs the story, which, however, I do not hold the reader strictly bound to believe, since Livy does not appear to believe it himself. Half a century after this the place was utterly deserted ; and at the commencement of the reign of Augustus Csesax' it was only a pasturage for flocks. That emperor established a Roman colony upon its ruins, which flourished for a sea- son, and then fell into decay, and was finally abandoned. Veii was now obliterated from the map of Italy, and the very place where it had stood remained unknown for ages. When, on the revival of letters, attention was called to the subject of Italian antiquities, its site became a matter of dispute, and eight or ten different localities were assigned by as many different antiquaries. Later researches have settled the question; and there is now no doubt that the ruins 340 A YEAR IN EUROPE. I am about to describe are the remains of that once mag- nificent rival and mighty adversary of E.ome. They lie scattered over a lofty triangular table-land, seven miles in circumference, nearly surrounded by two streams, which flow along at the foot of the precipice — one of them called II Formello, and the other II Fosso dei due Fossi — which unite below to form the Valca — beyond all question, the ancient Cremera. A position stronger by nature could scarcely have been selected ; and, in the days of Veil, nothing was more important than such a situation. I resolved on an early visit to the ruins. Two of our American friends, an artist and his wife, cheerfully con- sented to bear us company. Abate Scotti, the friendly priest, generously volunteered his services in procuring us a" vettura for the trip. The morning was clear and beautiful, just suitable for such an excursion. How merrily we rat- tled down the Via Frattina, and up the Corso, and through the Porta del Popolo, and along the old Flaminian Road, and over the ancient Milvian Bridge ! An hour and a half brought us to the castle of Isola Far- nese — a building of the middle ages, upon substructions of a much earlier period. It is perched, like an eagle's nest, upon a steep and lofty rock, apparently inaccessible on all sides, except that by which we approached. In connection with it is a hamlet of miserable huts, tenanted by some twenty-five or thirty souls, which might be suspected of being human, if their bodies were not too evidently Italian. The precipice in every direction yawns with caverns, mani- festly the work of human hands, where many of the ancient Veians doubtless " slept their last sleep/' hard by the walls on which they "fought their last battle." The arx or citadel of Veil, as some have imagined it, this place never could have been ; for there is a broad valley be- tween it and the city, with a stream three hundred feet OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 341 below, and no appearance — scarcely a possibility — of any direct means of communication. It has been supposed also to be the site of the castle of the Fahii ; but this -is still more unlikely than the former opinion ; for the situation, so near the city, would by no means answer the purpose of the Roman Spartans, and such a locality is quite incompatible with the facts of the history. But what have I to do with the quarrels of antiquarians ? or what boots the discussion of their sage conjectures, after both Fahii and Veientes have mouldered for so many, centu- ries in the dust ? Besides, one of our party insists that this was the citadel of Veii, because she came to see it as such, and will not consent that it shall be any thing else; and it were surely ungracious in me to explode her castle in the air, when nobody is likely to be benefited by its catastrophe. At the foot of Isola Farnese we halted, and soon had around us about two-thirds of the village population. Mur- ray and Dennis both speak of " the worthy Antonio Valeri," as keeping the key of "the Painted Tomb," and ready to conduct strangers among the ruins. For him, therefore, I immediately inquired ; but the thin and sallow rag-screens shook their heads sadly, and replied : u Antonio 6 morto sign'ore — Antonio 6 morto." At first I suspected this for an Italian trick, with a view to personal pecuniary profit; but upon further interrogation, it turned out that Mr. Dennis's " big burly" friend had indeed departed this life at the time the Pope departed for Gaeta; and as there are no " happy-death" papers published hereabout, Murray had probably never heard of his demise ; and in the last edition of his Hand-book, printed less than two years ago, he recommends the dead man to lead us through the buried city, and among its ancient sepulchres. Shade of Tolum- nius, protect us from such a cicerone ! Not that I, for my part, loved Antonio less — for I had begun to regard him 342 A TEAR IN EUROPE. already as an old acquaintance, and I felt that in his death I had lost a friend, and mourned his untimely fate with the sincerest sorrow — but that I loved our fair fellow-pilgrims more, and knew that they needed something more substan- tial than such ghostly help in climbing the rugged heights and threading the tangled thickets before us. To our great grief, we learned also that the key of the Painted Tomb was missing — whether Antonio had taken it with him, or it had been lost since he left the Isola, they did not inform us — and that it would be impossible to see the inte- rior of that celebrated monument of ancient art and affec- tion. But, determined to make the best of our double disappointment, we selected the most honest-looking cut- throat of the gang, forthwith installed him as poor Antonio's successor, and followed him, on foot, over rock and ruin, amid the melancholy remembrances of the times of old. Descending from the Isola by a winding way, we crossed the Fosso del due Fossi near a modern mill, where the stream plunges over a precipice into the gulf eighty feet below, forming one of the most beautiful cascades I have ever seen, while the cliff above rises some two hundred feet higher. Nibby supposes this to have been the Tarpeian Rock of Veil, whence criminals were precipitated headlong to their fate. Perhaps it was — I shall not controvert his opinion ; but we do not know that the Veians had any Tar- peian Rock, or needed any; and if they practiced any such mode of punishment, a hundred other places in the neigh- borhood would have answered the purpose as well as this. Here our artist sat down to take a sketch, and we went forward to await him on the heights above. We ascended by a steep and narrow passage cut through the tufo, which must have been the site of a gate, for on each side are evi- dent traces of the wall. Reaching the summit of the hill, from which we could see nearly the whole area of the city, OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 343 nothing met the view but wild and desolate downs, scattered over with huge blocks of hewn stone, foundations of mas- sive walls, fragments of marble and pottery, here and there a copse of briers and brushwood, and a fringe of larger growth upon the brink of the precipice enclosing the whole. There were no large and lofty remains, like those of Eome, of Athens, or Egypt, majestic even in their decay — no Coli- seum, nor Parthenon, nor Pyramids — nothing, indeed, at first sight, to remind one that here stood the stately struc- tures and swarmed the busy population of a mighty city — the southern bulwark of Etruria, the most formidable enemy of infant Rome, and for nearly four centuries her rival in military prowess, and her instructress in the arts of civilized life. As Dennis says, " The very skeleton of Veii has crumbled to dust — the city is its own sepulchre." Yet in this vast area was ample room for the play of imagination. What scenes of joy and sorrow have been witnessed here — what meetings and partings of lovers — marriage festivities and funeral solemnities — the hum of the market-place and the grave deliberations of senates — the charm of popu- lar eloquence and the divine fascinations of song — kings crowned and uncrowned — solemn embassies entertained — armies mustered for the conflict ! And now there is not a sound to be heard but the distant barking of a shepherd's dog, and the sweet chant of the skylark and the nightingale filling the solitude with joy. In half an hour the sketch was completed, and the sketcher rejoined the company. We now went across the fields toward the north, passing several fragments and foun- dations, also a place which had lately been excavated, where we found some fine pieces of white and colored marble. Then we descended to the Formello, which washes the base of the cliff that bore the city wall. At the place where we crossed the stream appear to have been a gate and a bridge. 344 A YEAR IN EUROPE. From this point we followed the brook, with a steep, rocky bank on the other side of it, surmounted here and there by the remains of ancient masonry, till we came to the Ponle Sodo. This is a tunnel, through which the stream flows, two hundred and forty feet long, about fifteen feet wide, and nearly twenty feet high. At first, it might be taken for a natural formation ; but upon further examination it turns out to be evidently artificial. I entered it as far as I could without wading in the water, and found that in the roof there were two square apertures, which may have been the mouths of sluices, or perhaps communicated with the towers above. On the top, in a line with the wall, are two mounds ' — one of them very large, indicating, as Grell thinks, a dou- ble gate. Here, then, must have been one of the chief ■ entrances of the city, and this excavated rock was the bridge over which rolled the chariots of Porsenna and Tolumnius. It is likely, from the form of the ground, that the stream originally passed around this place, some distance from the cliff, and this tunnel was made in order to bring it close under the city wall. At the mouth of the cavern we sat down to refresh our- selves with a luncheon. The view was exceedingly fine. The precipice of gray and yellow tufo, in alternate layers, adorned with the greenest lichens and the most delicate blossoms, and overhung by a luxuriant growth of ilex and ivy, from which at intervals peeped out fragments of the ancient wall ; the dark excavation below, with the water dripping from its roof, and sparkling like diamonds in the sunshine as it fell into the soft, pure stream : all this, inde- pendent even of any associations of the past, was full of beauty. Our artist thought it worthy of his pencil, and employed another half hour in sketching. From the bridge, twenty or thirty minutes' walk down the valley brought us to the Necrojjolis. The tombs are. exca- OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 345 vated in the side of the hill, opposite the city. There are several tiers of them, one above another. A large number — Dennis says "thousands" — have been opened, robbed of their precious contents, and their entrances again filled up with earth. The Queen of Sardinia, who owned the land, formerly let it out to excavators — most of them dealers in anti- quities at Rome — who rifled them of their urns, vases, jewelry, statuary, and every thing convertible into cash, and then closed them up again. We clambered up the hill to the entrance of the Painted Sepulchre — the oldest and most interesting yet discovered in Italy, and perhaps not less ancient than any of the remains lately found amid the mounds of Assyria and Babylonia. And now it was, Antonio Valeri, that we profoundly lamented thy untimely fate ! Hadst thou lived, thou " big, burly" friend of George Dennis, thou cicerone whom Mur- ray " delighteth to honor," doubtless the key had not been lost, and we might have explored the interior of this famous charnel-house of antiquity ! There, indeed, was the avenue, cut into the side of the hill toward the centre, eighty feet long, six feet wide at the entrance, and ten at the mouth of the tomb ; and there were the four couchant lions that have guarded it faithfully for twenty-five centuries or more — two of them headless, but still erect — the other two, fallen and shattered ; and there was the huge rough wall of ancient masonry, and the modern iron grating through which we looked into one of the dark side-chambers, and the modern i iron door to the principal vault where slept the mighty dead — it may have been one of the kings of Veii ; but there was nothing more to be seen ! It was enough to incense a saint; and I could have scourged the whole vagabond herd of Isola Farnese, with the pope and his cardinals besides, for suffer- ing so interesting a relic of the past to lie thus neglected! Near this, however, as an instance of the law of coinpeusa- 15* 346 A YEAR IN EUROPE. tion, SO; much talked of by our modern sages, I found another sepulchre, standing open, and containing a sarcophagus in perfect preservation, the cover of which appeared never to have been removed. Who knows what may be in that sar- cophagus ? From the Necropolis we descended again to the Formello ; and, a little farther down, came to a mass of masonry, which seems to have been the pier of a bridge. On the other side was manifestly the site of a gate flanked with towers ; between which were remains of the pavement, deeply grooved by the chariot-wheels. Not far from this, in a place which still bears evidence of modern excavations, though overgrown with tangled and impenetrable briers, antiquaries locate the forum of the Roman Municipium, erected here in the reign of the Emperor Augustus. Here were found the colossal busts and statues already mentioned as being in the Vatican, and the twelve Ionic columns of marble which sustain the portico of the post-office at Rome. Just at the gate, and on both sides of it, are the famous Columbaria — consisting of a great number of niches, hewn in the perpendicular rock, to receive the urns containing the ashes of the dead. These, as Dennis supposes, belonged to the Roman Municipium, though Grell and Lenoir both regarded them as part of the Necropolis of ancient Veil. The Columbaria, when first opened, contained stuccos and paintings in excellent preservation ; but these, with the cinerary urns, have long since disappeared; and I found nothing in the niches but some purple crocuses, of which I gathered a few for Mrs. C.'s herbarium. Nine days elapsed, and I revisited Veii, in company with an agreeable New-Yorker, who took great delight in archaeo- logical investigations; and a week afterward I went again, in capacity of cicerone to a party of six, three of whom were English clergymen. In both instances, we spent the whole OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 847 day, and made the entire circuit of the walls, and wandered over the area which they enclosed in every direction, walk- ing each time not less than twelve miles. We met with many interesting remains which in the first visit had escaped my notice, and examined largely and at leisure those of which I had then taken but a brief and superficial survey. Some hours we lingered about the Ponte Socio, climbing the cliffs, tracing the walls, and scrutinizing the remains of those enormous towers. We discovered a fragment of the " mas- sive stone masonry, resting upon a substruction cf bricks, each three feet long," which G-ell mentions in his Topo- graphy of Rome ; but which Mr. Dennis, after " beating the bush on all sides," failed to find. Mr. Dennis, by the way, though an agreeable journalist, is not a very profound archaeologist. In reference to Veii, at least, though he says he spent many days here, his observation must have been quite superficial, and his statements are often careless and inaccurate. From the Ponte Socio we ascended the stream to the Ponte Formello, at the upper extremity of the city ; and between these two bridges we discovered the remains of a third, which is neither mentioned in any of the books, nor marked on any of the maps. The masonry of one of the piers is very apparent, and blocks of pavement strew the bed of the stream. From near the Ponte Formello, we traced the ancient street, spoken of by G-ell and Dennis, through the entire length of the city, to the Piazza cV Armi. In its course, about midway between these two extremities, we found some massive substructions almost concealed amid briers and brushwood, which it was exceedingly difficult to penetrate. Nearly its whole extent is strewn with square blocks of tufo, fragments of polygonal pavement, pieces of marble and terra- cotta, and remains of walls cropping out at intervals along the bank. 348 A YEAR IN EUROPE. During this walk a great number of serpents darted across our path, and others lay sunning themselves upon the rocks. One of these was a very formidable creature, not less than eight feet long, and of proportionate thickness. I saw also several vipers, one of which I dispatched with my staif. They lay in every case near their holes, which they sought immediately on being disturbed. These venomous little rep- tiles abound on the Roman Campagna, and especially amid the ancient ruins. We often met with that beautiful crea- ture, which the Italians call "II Ragone" — a bright green lizard, about a foot long, of very graceful form, and perfectly harmless, which glides through the grass, and feeds on the insects which it finds. Lizards of a smaller species are seen everywhere by thousands, here, and all over Italy. The Piazza d'Armi is a table-land, eight or ten acres broad, separated from the main area of the city by a narrow valley, which is not very deep ; enclosed on its three other sides by bolder cliffs and deeper gulfs than in any other part of the ground ; and situated in the angle of the two streams that encompass the city, just above where they flow together. If this was not the arx, it certainly ought to have been ; for it is a far more eligible locality than the rock of Isola, or any other elevation in the vicinity ; though I am not unwilling, if it be deemed necessary, that Veil should have had two citadels — one here, and another at Isola. Within the arx, wherever it was, stood the temple of the great Veian goddess. Dennis sought diligently, but could find no traces of such an edifice here, for the very best of reasons — the remains were all below the surface. My young friend and I were more fortunate. At the very point where the arx must have connected with the city, we came upon recent excavations, apparently of last summer; and there we saw a white marble sarcophagus, as perfect, with the exception of the cover, as when it 'was made ; large slabs OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 349 and fragments of the same material, white and colored; pieces of columns and cornices, and walls more massive than any we had found before. The marbles may have belonged to the later Roman Mmiicipium; but these walls were most indubitably remains of the earlier Etruscan Veii ; and I am sure, if Mr. Dennis had seen them, he would have said at once, " Here stood the Temple of Juno." They have been uncovered in half a dozen different places, but the excava- tions are not sufficient to show the plan of the building. I have no doubt, however, from what was visible, that if the examination were continued, the walls would be found very extensive. In some places they are built of large oblong- blocks of tufo, four feet in length and two in thickness, and fitted together without cement. The blocks are laid with perfect regularity, those of one tier across those of another, so that the surface exhibits the sides and the ends in alter- nate layers. These walls seem constructed for eternity. The chariot-wheels of thirty centuries have rolled over them, grinding their upper portions into dust, and forming a soil of many feet above them • but the solid masses beneath remain unmoved, just as they were laid by the builders. Such work can perish only by the slow process of abrasion, and the mouldering of its very material. I stood upon the verge of this lofty promontory*, and " from the top of the rock" looked down into the glens on either hand, through which, far beneath me, wound the two streams that nearly encompassed the ancient city, and the broader valley below, through which their united waters pursued their way to the Tiber. All was still and desolate as death ; not a dwelling in sight, except a shepherd's hut in the distance ; not a sound to be heard, except the bleating of the sheep, and the baying of their shaggy keeper. How different the scene, when from the same height Camillus gazed upon the wild tumult of the battle, and listened to 350 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the shouts of the victors and the shrieks of the vanquished, and saw the flames ascending from the burning city, the women and children flying across the distant hills, his brave soldiers pressing in through every opening, and the Fossi at his feet rolling red with the blood of the slain ! No wonder the conqueror wept ! Dennis speaks of a " curious staircase," discovered in 1840, by the washing away of the earth in the top of the bank, beneath the city wall, just opposite the Piazzid'Armi. We made long and laborious search for this interesting object, going up and down the little valley, and climbing the rock at every accessible point. At length, we ascended to the top ; and as we walked along the brink, looking down among the thick bushes and brambles, I saw what I thought to be a piece of hewn stone projecting from the bank about ten feet beneath me. Taking hold of a little tree, I swung down, and at once found myself standing upon La Scaletta. It was a happy accident. The philosopher, when he leaped naked from his bath, and ran shouting his discovery through the city, scarcely felt a greater joy. Dennis says that he saw the object of our quest from the valley, and clambered up to it with great difficulty. I can easily believe the latter statement, but the former is not quite so credible. He counted only eight steps ; but four others must have been uncovered since, for there are now twelve to be seen. I worked my way through the briers, and walked down them, and up again. There must have been originally not less than eighty or a hundred, but the lower ones have fallen, and lie in ruins at the bottom. The object of these stairs is not apparent, though it is conjectured that they led to a postern gate from the Via Veientana in the valley. But the most interesting thing to be seen at Veiiis the famous Painted Tomb. We found that a new key had been made, and the passage cleared of its rubbish, and half a OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 351 scudo procured our admittance into this mansion of the dead. It is called La Grotta Campana, in honor of its excavator and proprietor, the Cavaliere Campana, of Rome. It was discovered only fourteen years ago, and has been pre- served as it was found, with all its decorations and its furni- ture, except that the ancient stone door, which had been demolished, is replaced by a modern one of iron. The tomb consists of two rooms, hewn out of the rock. The first may be fifteen feet square. In a wall opposite the entrance is a doorway, communicating with the inner cham- ber. The paintings are on this wall, each side of the door- way. They are of a rude and grotesque character, indicat- ing a very early stage of the art. They consist of a variety of animals, with several men and two boys on horseback, with flowers interspersed, and an ornamental border. The form and color of the animals are very strange and curious. There is a sphinx, not crouching, as in Egyptian sculpture, but standing, and that on legs of most disproportionate length. It has wings, too, which are curled at the tips, and striped with red, black, and yellow ; sti'aight black hair, hanging down behind the head ; red face and bosom, with white spots ; yellow body and tail, which are also spotted ; two legs red, one black, and another yellow. Behind the sphinx is a rampant panther, and beneath him an ass or a deer, both particolored like the sphinx. Under this group is a horse still taller than his hybrid neighbor, and looking as if he needed provender. His head is well proportioned, and his neck handsomely arched, his breast and hind-quarters large, but his body exceedingly slender. He has a black head, red neck and body, yellow mane and tail, haunches black, one leg black, another red, and the other two yellow, with red spots. He is led by a red groom, who is naked ; and ridden by a naked red boy, with a cat crouching behind him, one paw familiarly placed 352 A YEAR IN EUROPE. upon his shoulder. The cat is particolored like the horse, and there is a particolored dog running by his side, and a man with something like a battle-axe marching before him. On the other side of the doorway is a large beast — per- haps a tiger — with his mouth open, and his tongue hanging out, and a couple of dogs beneath him ; and above this, a horse, with a boy upon his back, and a spotted pard behind him sitting on the ground. All these animals are party- colored and spotted, like those before described. Around each group or square is an ornamental border of lotus-flowers, and various flowers and plants are interspersed among' the figures. All this must have some symbolical meaning; but what that meaning is it needs a Daniel to tell — at least a Rawlinson or a Grliddon. On either side of the chamber is a projecting bench of rock, with one end a little elevated, resembling a couch with its pillow. On each of these, when the tomb was first, opened, was found a human skeleton; but as soon as they were exposed to the air, they crumbled to dust. The one on the right seems to have been a warrior, slain in battle ; and we saw the helmet which was upon the head, pierced through by some sharp weapon, and a broken spear by its side, with a bronze lamp and a candlestick. No armor was found with the skeleton occupying the opposite bench; and it is likely that this was the wife of the warrior. On the floor sit four large earthen jai'S, three feet high ; and several smaller ones, of different form ; all of which are ornamented with paintings or bas reliefs, in the earliest style of Etruscan art ; and which, when the tomb was discovered, contained what was supposed to be human ashes. The ceiling of the inner chamber has two beams, carved_ in relief, extending from wall to wall. On three sides are benches of rock, each sustaining a square chest of earthen- OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 353 ware, about eighteen inches long and a foot high, with an arched lid projecting over the sides like the roof of a house, and the figure of a human head carved upon the top, and eight tall jars, some of which are painted with red and yellow bands, and two stand in pans of terra-cotta, with animals executed in relief around the rim. There are many smaller jars or vases sitting upon the ground, probably all of a cinerary character. In the centre of the apartment stands a bronze brazier, with three feet, about six inches high, and twenty broad, which may have served for burning perfumes to destroy the effluvium of the sepulchre. On the back wall we saw six circular figures, painted in various colors. Our cicerone called them crowns, and perhaps this is what they are intended to represent. If so, the skeletons found here may be those of royal personages — perhaps some king and queen, who reigned in Veil before Romulus was born, or ZEneas touched the Italian shore. But who or what the occupants were, when they lived or how they died, there is no record to inform us; no clue to their character or station, except what may be gathered from the furniture and artistic decorations of the place. Upon the wall, on two sides of the room, are many stumps of nails, which have rusted away, on which perhaps shields were hung, or some- thing more precious, which the hand of the spoiler removed centuries ago. Bronze mirrors, animals wrought in amber, and terra-cotta images of men and gods, were also found here ; but they have been taken away, and placed in the pro- prietor's collection of Etruscan antiquities at Rome. At the entrance of the tomb, opening upon the same pass- age, is a side-chamber — a sort of porter's lodge to this palace of the mighty dead. On one side of it is a couch of rock, with rudely carved legs ; but the form that lay upon it in its last sleep has long since disappeared; and nothing remains 854 A YEAR IN EUROPE. but the furniture — a plate or two, a drinking-cup, a bronze mirror, perfume vases, and scattered fragments of pottery. As we were leaving Isola, on our return to Rome, the villagers offered us several articles for sale, which had been taken from the tombs of Veii — vases, ewers, and lamps of terra-cotta, and human figures of the same material. One fellow proffered us an earthen goddess, about as large as a man's finger, for which he demanded one scudo ; we pro- posed to give him two pauls, whereupon he shook his head, kissed the figure, and pressed it to his heart with great affec- tion. At the same time we were closely besieged by some seven or eight ragged boys and dirty girls, imploring us for the love of the Blessed Virgin to endow them with a few baiocchi. Seeing there was more begging than bargaining, ' we drove unceremoniously away ; and in a few moments were flying along the beautiful Via Cassia, toward the tomb of the Eternal City, whose strategy triumphed over the valor of Veii. TRIP TO TIVOLI. 355 CHAPTEK XXVII. TRIP TO TIVOLI. BASILICA OP SAN LORENZO WAYSIDE GLIMPSES THE SOLFATARA TOMB OP PLAUTIUS VILLA OF ADRIAN ANCIENT TIBUR MODERN TIVOLI TEMPLES OF VESTA AND THE SYBIL ROMAN VILLAS PLEA- SANT PROSPECTS — AN ITALIAN TEMPEST B.ETURN TO ROME. But him, the streams which warbling flow Rich Tibur's fertile vales along, And shady groves, his haunts, shall know The master of th' Eolian song. Having previously arranged with our friends Mr. and Mrs. Johnson to accompany us in the excursion, early on the morning of the thirteenth of May we set forth for Tivoli. The distance is about eighteen English miles, and the ride at this delightful season of the year is full of pleasure. Most of the foreigners who were here, journeyed northward several weeks before, leaving Rome just as its rural environs began to put on their vernal beauty. Those who would see this interesting region in the perfection of its charms, should by all means remain till the middle of May, when the campagna is covered with wild flowers in endless variety, blooming amid the ruins of antiquity, and all the air is vocal with the songs of the skylark and the nightingale. We left the city at the Porte San Lorenzo, named from .' 356 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the Basilica of San Lorenzo about a mile beyond. There are within the walls two or three other churches of San Lorenzo, but this is more ancient than any of them. There is a monastery in connection with it, also a public cemetery close by, and the descent into the Catacombs of Santa Oiriaca, where the body of San Lorenzo is reported to have been first interred. About two miles farther on, and three miles from the gate, we crossed the Anio or Teverone on the Ponte Mamolo — so called because it was built by Mamea, the mother of Alex- ander Severus. The country thence to the Sabine Mountains is a continued succession of luxuriant pastures and wheat fields. Here and there upon the heights appeared ranges of trees, enclosing farms and villas; and occasionally some massive square tower of the middle ages rose in solitary grandeur amid the plain. Twelve miles from Rome we saw (Jastel Arcione, a picturesque ruin, on the brow of a green hill, overlooking the road, where it has stood more than four centuries in its present dismantled condition, having been demolished by the Tivolians to dislodge a body of brigands who had made it their stronghold. Near this, in two or three places, we struck upon the old polygonal pavement of the Via Tiburtina, the general course of which is followed by the modern road all the way to Tivoli. Among the most interesting objects in our route were the Lago de' Tartari and the waters of the Solfatara. The former being close to our road, we alighted and walked along its margin. It is a small body of water, depositing a cal- careous substance upon every thing that grows around it, en- closing reeds and bushes with a solid incrustation of stone, and thus by its own action continually contracting its limits. La Solfatara, the ancient Aquce Albulai, consists of three small lakes, of similar nature, but more strongly impregnated with sulphur. A bituminous substance is constantly rising TRIP TO TIVOLI. 857 from the bottom, collecting in masses upon the surface, and forming little floating islands, which are driven by the wind against the shore, where they adhere and harden. Thus, like the Lago de' Tartari, the Solfatara is constantly di- minishing, and will probably in process of time be entirely covered over. It was formerly much larger than now, and sometimes overflowed, producing malaria. To prevent this inconvenience, Cardinal d'Este cut a canal, two miles long and nine feet wide, through which a milky torrent rushes down to the Anio. These waters were in high repute among the ancients for their sanitary virtues, and much frequented on account of the oracle of Faunus, whose temple stood in a sacred grove upon the shore. Virgil represents Latinus as coming hither to consult the god, and receiving during the night a mysterious answer. But the oracle is forgotten, the sacred grove is uprooted, and the very site of the temple is unknown. There are still some remains, however, of the baths built by Agrippa, frequented by Augustus, and en- larged and beautified by Zenobia. Throughout the whole neighborhood there is a strong smell of sulphuretted hydro- gen gas, which is far from being pleasant to delicate olfac- tories. The surface of the surrounding fields is an incrusta- tion gradually formed over the water, and the hollow sound which it yields to the tread evidently betrays the existence of an abyss beneath. A mile or two nearer Tivoli we recrossed the Anio on the Ponte Lugano. This bridge is said to have taken its name from the Lucanians, who were here defeated by the Romans : more probably, however, from the tomb of Plautius Lucanus, which stands just at its eastern end. This is a large round tower, built of huge blocks of travertine, and resembling the sepulchre of Cecilia Metella, both in its original form and in its subsequent appropriation. During the middle ages it was used as a military station, and for this purpose surmounted 358 A YEAR IN EUROPE. by a battlement; a circumstance barbarous in point of taste, but in these particular instances not to be regretted, as it preserved two fine monuments of antiquity from destruction. Near this bridge are seen the extensive quarries whence the ancient Romans obtained the stone called travertine — more properly tibertine — which they employed so much in build- ing. From this point the road begins to ascend the mountain, passing the ruins of the magnificent Villa Adriana, which stood upo^the plain at its base. This villa, like every thing else planned by its imperial proprietor, was extremely grand and spacious, and exceeded every other villa in Italy. It was eight or ten miles in circumference; and comprised, beside the palace, three theatres, four temples, a naumachia, a hippodrome, barracks for soldiers, halls for philosophers, an ample library, a splendid museum, numerous porticoes and fountains, and various edifices the names and objects of which are now unknown. Excavations are constantly bringing to light statues, columns, and marbles of the rarest kinds ; while weeds and brambles cover the mounds and fill the stuc- coed halls ; and gardens, and vineyards, and olives, and laurels, and cypresses, wave over all in melancholy confusion. Hence, through a continuous grove of olive trees, we mounted the steep to Tivoli. Tivoli is the ancient Tibur — a place of great antiquity, and of some considerable import- ance in history. It appears to have been originally a city of the Sicani, and called Sicilio or Siculetum. The Siculi were in possession, when Tiburtus, or Tiburnus, commander of Evander's fleet, came and expelled them, and gave his own name to the city. Tibur is not mentioned in Pliny's list of the Latin Confederates, who were accustomed to meet at the temple of Jupiter Latialis on the Alban Mount. Perhaps, being superior in opulence or force, the Tiburtines slighted the alliance. They were not subjected by the Romans till TRIP TO TIVOLI. 359 the time of Camillus and the fall of Veii ; a calamity which they would scarcely have escaped so long, had they not been a powerful people. This is further evident from the fact, that in the year three hundred and ninety-six before Christ, they ventured even an attack on Rome. They had several tributary towns, and a somewhat extensive territory. Tivoli now contains six or seven thousand inhabitants. It is not handsomely built, and its denizens resemble very much those of some other Italian towns of which I have written. Its situation, however, upon the side o£the Sabine Mountains, nearly a thousand feet above the sea, and com- manding a fine prospect of the Campagna, with the dome of Saint Peter's rising majestically in the distance, is as de- lightful as the most enthusiastic admirer of the beautiful could desire. But its great charm consists in its cascades, and the surrounding scenery. Over these my better-half, very properly, in her own sober way, went into poetic rap- tures. Therefore I shall attempt no description, prudently leaving the whole subject to her happier quill, and devoting mine to the antiquities of the place. Arriving at the piazza, we left our carriage, and hastened to the little circular temple upon the cliff, where we sat down to our collazione, beneath that graceful portico in whose shadow Augustus and Maecenas often reposed, and Virgil and Horace mingled the music of their lyres with the roar of the flood. This structure — sometimes called the temple of Vesta, and sometimes the temple of the Sybil — is already so well known through the tourist and the artist, as to need no additional description. It is admired, not for its dimensions, but for its fine proportions, and its romantic situation. It stands uncovered in the court of the inn, but its own solidity seems a sufficient protection. Of its eighteen pillars, ten only remain, with their entablature and cornice. Thirty or forty years ago, an English nobleman 360 A YEAR IN EUROPE. undertook to purchase it, with a design of transporting it to England, and placing it in his own park; but the Roman government interposed and prevented the devastation ; and I felt thankful to Pius the Seventh, when I saw it hanging there on the crest of the precipice, with " The rapid Anio, headlong in its course," fretting and foaming through the caverned rocks three hun- dred feet below. There it stands, a beautiful fragment of Augustan grandeur, dating from the very time when G-od laid in Mount Zion the " precious Corner-stone" of an im- perishable temple. It has survived the empire, the religion, and the very language of its founder; and after nearly nine- teen centuries of tempest and revolution have passed over itj still challenges the admiration of the traveller. Near this stands the fragment of another temple, consist- ing of four pillars, now forming part of the wall of a church ; and this, like the other, has been called both the Temple of Vesta and the Temple of the Sybil. These are almost the only vestiges of ancient Tibur. During the days of the empire, thirty or forty of the richest Romans had their superb villas here ; but these have all passed away, and no traces of them are found, except here and there a massive substruction of rectangular blocks, or a fragment or two of opus reticulatum, which it is impossible to iden- tify. Our cicerone pointed out to us the supposed sites of those of Varus and Catullus, across the ravine, opposite the town ; one of them now occupied by a church, and the other by a convent. Farther down the mountain, command- ing a broader view of the Campagna, with the town and the cascades of the Anio, is the locality assigned to that of Horace ; while that of Maecenas is said to have crowned a lofty precipice on the other side of the torrent, just where the sportive Cascatella now leaps from the brow of the rock. TRIP TO TIVOLI. 801 Having finished our collation, we descended into the glen, and explored the caves of Neptune and the Sybil, and watched the water that poured down in three beautiful sheets apparently from the sky, and saw the rainbow com- passing with beauty the cloud of spray at the foot of the grand cascade. Then we ascended the opposite bank, pass- ing a lately excavated line of arches, which Stgnor Antonio — this of course was his name — informed us belonged to the baths of Vojriscus. There is little reliance to be placed upon these guides in matters of antiquity, but this time Antonio is very likely to have been right, for Vopiscus cer- tainly had a magnificent villa at Tibur, and Horace speaks of it as being located in the dell, and actually overhanging the stream. Above this we passed through the long, double gallery, cut through the mountain, to divert the current of the Anio from its ancient channel, at the lower end of which the torrent precipitates itself headlong into the gulf below. Our companions were now quite fatigued, and so Mrs. C. and myself left them behind, and continued our walk along the curving bank of the ravine upon our left, with the concave side of the olive-shaded mountain on our right, beguiled by the beauty of the dell, with its sparkling cascatelli, the- fragrance of flowers, and the warbling of birds, unmindful of time and distance, till a dark cloud sud- denly frowned over the brow of the mountain, and the heavy roll of thunder admonished us to return. It was vain to inquire now for the villas of other wealthy and famous Romans, which once adorned these delightful localities — those of Cocceius, Lepiclus, Plautus, Mesius, Celius, Brutus, Cassius, Piso, Capito, Sallust, Popilius, Flaccus, Atticus, Valerius Maximus, and many more, who resorted hither for fashion, or friendship, or rural quiet. All have disappeared and left nothing but their names behind, with the unalterable charms of nature, its shady 16 362 A YEAR IN EUROPE. glens and gleaming waters, its groves, and gardens, and orchards, and cool recesses, which still flourish and blossom in unfading beauty. As I stood and gazed upon the grand cascade above, and the two smaller ones below, from a point in the road where all were in full view before me — as I saw the waters leap laughing down the declivity, through thickets and brambles, here spangled with diamonds, and there lighted up with rainbows — the blooming vines that hung over the channel, or bathed in its current — the river below, fretting through the rocky arch which it has excavated for itself — the gray foliage of the olive-orchards, and the graceful sweep of the surrounding hills — I was almost ready to join the bard in the prayer — " May Tibur to my latest hours Afford a kind and calm retreat ; Tibur, beneath whose lofty towers The Grecians fixed their blissful seat ; There may my labors end, my wanderings cease, There all my toils of warfare rest in peace!" But a sudden peal of thunder broke my meditations, and hastened our tardy footsteps. The shower overtook us on the road, however ; and we sought a temporary shelter, with four very unpoetic-looking Italians, and ten thousand fleas, in an ancient grotto, containing a pretty fountain, which may have belonged to the villa of Catullus, but seemed now to have become the common resort of cattle and swine. The rain abated in about fifteen minutes, and we hastened our return, through no small depth of mud and water, to our companions and the carriage. But now the storm began in earnest, the wind blew a tempest, and the rain fell in torrents, with peals of thunder that shook the mountains around us, and flashes of lightning which seemed to set the rocks on fire. An hour or more, " the prince of the power of the air" raged over us in his wrath ; and then gathered TRIP TO TIVOLI. 363 up his cloudy robes, and marched muttering over the hills, leaving the bluest of skies and the brightest of landscapes behind him; and we, with impressions of the grand and the beautiful never to be forgotten, mounted our carriage, and rode through a fairy-world, sparkling with diamonds, and musical with the song of rivulets, down the Sabine slopes, and over the wide Campagna, till the towers and domes of the Eternal City rose before us, as if painted upon the gor- geous clouds that half-veiled the setting sun. >64 A YEAR IN EUROPE, CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ALBAN MOUNT. STRADA FERRATA TO FRASCATI ANTONIO VILLA RUFINELLA— -TUSCU- LUM CICERO'S VILLA THE ALBAN LAKE ALBA LONGA EMISARIO RUINS OF ROMAN VILLAS CASTEL GONDOLPHO LA RICCIA IL ROSIGNUOLO LANUVIUM A PRIEST AT PLAY NEMI FLOATING PALACE MONTE CAVO RETURN TO ROME. Twelve miles south of Rome, rises from the level Carn- pagua a picturesque group of volcanic hills. Its nearest and loftiest summit, Monte Cavo, the ancient Mons Albanus, or Mons Latialis, is about four thousand feet high, and crowned with a white convent, occupying the site of the Temple of Jupiter. The base of the whole group must be forty or fifty miles in circumference ; and the entire region abounds in scenic beauty not surpassed in Italy; and rocks, and groves, and glens, and streams, strewn with the memo- rials of antiquity, still echo the strains of Virgil and the voice of Cicero. I had admired the distant view from the dome of Saint Peter's, the Castle of St. Angelo, and a hundred other places within and around the city; and still more, when we passed over the western slopes of the mountain on our way to Naples ; and had longed to climb its sunny heights, and trace its sylvan ravines. And now the time was come, as fair a morning as ever smiled from heaven. As we passed THE ALBAN MOUNT. 365 through the Porto Maggiore, the fresh breeze from, the Cam- pagna came burdened with the odor of blossoms and the anthem of birds. A vast extent of green fields spread out before us ; and beyond rose the romantic hills, in their en- chanting robes of blue and purple ; over which towered the remoter Apennines, with their pearly crests of snow; the whole reposing under a vault of the purest azure. My companions were the Rev. Mr. Hall and Mr. Bartho- lomew, the American sculptor. Our first stage was by Strada Ferrata to Frascati — twelve miles — the only piece of railway Rome can hitherto boast, though another is begun to Civita Vecchia. Half the distance we were over- shadowed by the towering arches of the aqueducts, which supplied the ancient city, "And increased Proud Tiber's waves with waters not his own." About three-quarters of an hour brought us to the termi- nus, and an omnibus conveyed us up the acclivity, through a scene of indescribable beauty, into the town. Frascati arose, in the thirteenth century, from the ruins of ancient Tusculum, which occupied an elevation two miles above. Its population is about five thousand; but during the summer it is always crowded with Romans and forestieri. Its situation, on the side of the mountain, is exceedingly fine ; but there is very little in the town itself worthy of special notice. Its chief attraction is its villas, of which there are eight or ten, some of them very extensive. The only one we visited belongs to the wealthy banker Torlonia ; the walks and fountains of which would be very pretty, if kept in good condition ; but it seems a pity that one man should possess so much as to be able to pay proper attention to none of it, especially where multitudes are perishing for lack of bread ! 366 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Our first care, after a little refreshment, was to procure donkeys and a driver. I believe about half the men in Italy are called Antonio. We had an Antonio to light us down into the Catacombs, and an Antonio to lead us through the ghostly solitudes of Pompeii, and an Antonio to show us the antiquities of Amalfi and Ravello, and an Antonio to conduct us up the mountain stairway of Sant' Angelo, and an Antonio to introduce us to the grottoes and cascades of Tivoli, and Murray promised us an Antonio to open for us the Etruscan tomb of Veii; and now another Antonio — a mere skeleton covered with an olive skin, with eyes as big as tea-saucers, proffers his services in capacity of donkey-teer, to accompany us in our rambles over the Alban Mount. This olive-colored skeleton Antonio proved a very amusing character; and, in the sequel, something of a humbug withal. He was the very same fellow, if I mistake not, who drove Grace Greenwood's beast to Tusculum, and showed Fanny Kemble Butler the path to Mons Algidus, and pro- fessed so intimate an acquaintance with the brigand Gaspe- roni. He could speak several languages, and all in the same breath; beginning a sentence in Italian, continuing it in French, and finishing in English. When we expressed our stirprise at the copiousness of his learning, he laughed vociferously, and informed us that he could speak German and Russian also, and " leetle Greek and Hebrew I" If Cicero was mentioned, Cicero was a " great schoolmaster," but never knew half so many languages as Antonio ! If Hannibal was referred to, Hannibal was a brave general; but Antonio would prove himself a braver, only give him an opportunity ! If Julius Caesar was spoken of,. Julius Cassar ascended to the Temple of Jupiter Latialis on this same Via Triumphalis ; but Antonio had travelled it a hundred times, where Julius Csesar had travelled it but once ! In short, this Antonio, believe him, was the greatest man, THE ALBAN MOUNT. 367 except the Americans; that had ever yet trodden the Alban Mount ! Just above Frascati we passed the ruins of a large circular tomb, called, I know not on what authority, the Tomb of Lucullus. A little farther up we came to the Villa Rujji- uella, once the residence of Lucian Bonaparte, and famous for an audacious attempt of the banditti to seize and carry off his daughter on the eve of her marriage. They entered while the family were at dinner, but succeeded in getting pos- session only of the secretary and two domestics, whom they bore away into the Volscian Mountains, and demanded of the prince six thousand scudi for their ransom. Still ascending, through an avenue shaded with laurel and ilex, we soon reached the brow of the hill, covered with the ruins of Tusculum, the birthplace of Cato, and the favorite residence of Cicero, at present tenanted by a respectable population of lizards, and we chased the lithe ragone Italiano along the walks of Tully. There were the remains of a theatre and an amphitheatre, part of the ancient wall of the city, the evident substructions of the citadel, the polygonal pavement of the street, fragments of a temple or two, and traces of a fine villa, with baths and cisterns. An extensive ruin was pointed out by our big-eyed An- tonio — who professed to be as great an archasologist as philo- logist — for the remains of Cicero's Villa. With due respect to Antonio, however, permit me to say that this matter is somewhat dubious. Some fix the site here, others at the Villa Ruffinella, and others again at the Grrotta Ferrata, nearly two miles distant; and bricks with the orator's name upon them, and other materials which appear to have belonged to his buildings, have been fouud in all these locali- ties. If this was the place, he certainly had a delightful situation, and enjoyed as noble a view as any Roman could desire : Mons Latialis before him, crowned with the snowy 368 A YEAR IN EUROPE. fane of the tutelary divinity of the empire; the beautiful plain of Latium, extending from its base to the sea; and the scene of his own glorious labors, the metropolis of the world. Cicero had many villas, remarkable for their grandeur and magnificence ; and this, probably, surpassed them all. It was his favorite country-seat, and he had both the taste and the means for making it all that was desirable. Moreover, it had belonged to Crassus, the richest of the Romans; and afterward to Sylla the Dictator, who was not inclined to spare any pains or expense in its embellishment ; and had been purchased at an enormous price by the orator, and enlarged, and furnished with additional ornaments. It had a lyceum, a portico, a palestra, a library, a gymnasium, and an acade- my, all adorned with numerous statues and paintings, and surrounded by shady groves and avenues. Its proximity to Rome enabled its proprietor to enjoy the leisure and the liberty of solitude, without removing too far -from the city; and here he wrote two at least of his immortal treatises, and communed freely with his learned friends. From Tusculum we proceeded, by Grotta Ferrata and Marino, to the Alban Lake. The distance is six miles, and the scenery is. everywhere " even as the garden of Eden." Only a single incident broke the monotony of enjoyment, to wit, the falling of my donkey over a heap of ruins, which came near making a ruin of his rider. I declined mounting him again, but walked with a wounded limb, till we reached the lofty ridge whence the ancient Alba Longa looked down into the broad basin at its feet. Here we dismissed the learned Antonio and his long-eared companions, who returned to Frascati, leaving us at leisure to explore this interesting locality, and pursue our pleasant pilgrimage on foot. If the scenery hitherto was delightful, this was more than magical. Imagine a deep circular hollow, seven miles in circumfer- THE ALBAN MOUNT. 369 ence, high up on the side of the mountain • and this hollow half-filled with the purest water, and surrounded with lofty and precipitous banks, covered with trees of perpetual ver- dure ; from which one sees at a glance the whole extent of the Roman Campagna, bounded by the Mediterranean on the west, with the Eternal City in the centre. On one side, overlooking the lake, and enjoying a boundless prospect, stands Castel Gondolfo, the summer residence of the pope. On the opposite side, at the foot of Monte Cavo, overhang- ing the water at the height of six hundred feet, is Palazzuola, a Franciscan monastery, having some interesting antiquities in its garden. This beautiful basin is evidently the bed of an ancient crater ; for the rocky strata of' its rim, upheaved by subter- ranean forces, lie shelving out on all sides. The water is of great depth at the centre, and as clear as crystal ; and so protected by the surrounding heights, that its surface is never ruffled by a breeze. The ridge, almost perpendicular on the inner side, and quite steep on the outer, is very nar- row at the summit, in some places barely wide enough for the road. Yet on this narrow ridge Alba Longa flourished before Rome was founded. The city must have consisted of a single street, and probably extended half-way round the lake. Alba Longa is known to us only in Roman story, dignified while it stood by its contests with the city of Romulus, and immortalized after it fell by Livy's eloquent description of its fate. It perished six hundred and fifty years before the Christian era, and by some modern sages its very existence has been treated as a fable. All tradition, however, attests the fact; and here, upon the white rocks, where Sir William Gell locates it, are evident indications of a very ancient city. We traced through bush and bramble, for a mile or more, the narrow street, in many places cut through the solid rock, 10* 370 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and deeply worn by the wheels of vehicles. There is a legend, relating that the royal residence stood on a lofty precipice overhanging the water; and when one of the kings pro- voked Jupiter by his wickedness, he smote it with his thun- derbolts, and it fell shattered into the lake below, carrying the impious monarch along with the ruins of his palace. And it is a remarkable fact, attested by tourists and topographers, that just at the foot of the highest and steepest portion of this rocky rampart, lies a huge mass, apparently rent from the summit, with large rectangular blocks, which manifestly once formed part of a building, and are much more ancient than any of the Roman remains in the neighborhood. According to Dionysius, Alba Longa was the mother of thirty Latin cities, among which he reckons Rome itself; and" Antemnae, Fidenge, Crustumerium, and several others along the Tiber, "are said, on tolerable traditional authority, to have been her earliest colonies. The waters of Lacus Albanus were anciently three hun- dred feet higher than they are at present. During the ten years' siege of Veii by the Romans, without rain, and proba- bly by volcanic agency, they suddenly rose to an unwonted height, threatening the devastation of the Campagna. A Veian prophet, taken prisoner by the Romans, told them of a current saying in Veii, received from the Etruscan Oracle, that the city would never be taken by an enemy till the waters of the Alban Lake forsook their ancient channel. The old man was brought before the Roman Senate, where he reaffirmed the statement. The Senate sent to consult the Delphic Oracle in Greece, which was good enough to con- firm the prophecy, with a little amplification by way of orna- ment. Now the Romans began to bore the side of the mountain, and in less than a year the rim of the basin was pierced quite through with a tunnel four feet wide and six feet high. Thus the lake was lowered without damage to THE ALBAN MOUNT. 371 the Oampagna, and soon afterward, as the oracle had pro- mised, the Romans stood victors on the walls of Veii. This Umissario, as it is called, still remains; a monument, no less of Roman energy than of Roman superstition. It seems almost incredible that the work should have been accomplished in so short a time, and some have thought it must have occupied ten years instead of one. Think of a tunnel, more than a mile and a half in length, cut out of the solid rock with chisel and mallet ; yet so low and narrow, that, at the utmost, not more than three men could operate at the same time. There are several openings into it, how- ever, from the surface of the rock above ; so that the work- men probably descended through these, and began simul- taneously at different points along the designated line of excavation, thus greatly expediting the work. The emissary, being on a level with the lake, is about a thousand feet above the surface of the sea. The water flows through it with a gentle and uniform current, varying with the season from two to three feet in depth. Its entrance is just under the walls of Castel Gondolfo, almost concealed by trees and shrubbery, but quite accessible to him who is willing to pay the price by climbing the rugged steep after having explored it. There is so much sediment now upon the bottom of the passage, that it is difficult to pene- trate farther than about a hundred feet; but half this distance is sufficient to reveal the character of the work, which still displays the marks of the iron upon its walls and roof, as distinct as if they had been made but yesterday. Between the margin of the water and the base of the pre- cipice, quite round the lake, extends a narrow ring of level land, strewn with the remains of E.oman villas, overshadowed by venerable trees. These villas were probably constructed in the time of the emperors, long after the lake had been lowered by the emissary. The place is known, indeed, to 872 A YEAR IN EUROPE. have been then a fashionable summer resort of the Roman patricians; and so delightfully salubrious is the air around this romantic spot, that not only the pope, but also many citizens and sojourners at Rome, often make Castel Gondolfo their temporary abode during the season of oppressive heat. The palace of the Holy Father is a spacious building, without any external decoration, except its ancient groves of ilex, and its lofty Galleria di Sopra'. The latter is a beauti- fully shaded avenue along the summit of the ridge that encircles the lake, where the pope is accustomed to walk at eventide; but I am sure His Holiness never enjoyed the scenery more highly than we, nor relished more keenly the voice of the nightingale that welcomed us on our way. We spent the night at La Riccia, two miles beyond Castel G-oudolfo. This is the ancient Ariccia, where Horace lodged the first night on his journey to Brundusium ; but not at the house of old Martyrelli, I suspect ; for notwith- standing his white locks, he is manifestly a modern Roman, though one of the noblest of them all. By the way, the poet's donkey must have been a very poor one, or the poet himself but a dilatory pilgrim, not a Jacob, nor a Julius Caesar, to have travelled only fourteen miles during the first day. What a paradise is this Valariccia, with the Chigi Park, and the sylvan retreats around, once the haunts of Hippolytus and the nymph Egeria ! and the melancholy story of Hippolytus is told in gorgeous frescoes on the walls of our albergo. We walked out in the quiet moonlight, across the lofty bridge which connects the village with Albano. We were on the old Appian Way, with many a relic of antiquity on both sides, among which stood conspicuous the tomb of Etruscan Aruns, the son of King Porsenna. In the dewy vale beneath us chanted a thousand nightingales ; and after lingering beyond the limit of prudence to listen to their THE ALBAN MOUNT. 373 pleasing strains, we returned to our hotel, threw open our upper windows, and laid our heads upon our pillows, to be lulled into dreams of Eden by soft melodies from the grove. In the morning, long before sunrise, the little minstrels were " tuning their mellow throats" again, and I was out listening to them upon the bridge. Two of them were answering each other from two contiguous hollies, in short snatches of ineffable sweetness. It seemed the epithalamium of wedded angels! Never in my life had I heard music which so deeply touched my heart ; and when Mr. B. came to summon me to breakfast, I sat bathed in tears. The Italians call this incarnation of melody il rosignuolo, and talk in raptures of its song. There is indeed an indescribable tenderness in it, unrivalled by that of any other bird. Our Southern forest minstrel has more variety, but less pathos, in its lay. Critics have not been able to agree whether its song is sad or gay. I shall not undertake to decide the question ; but accept, I pray thee, dear reader, with clue gratitude, the following sonnet of the late Richard Winter Hamilton, D. D., of Leeds : Mysterious Murmur ! Where, and what, art thou ? Song in the night ! Or art thou more than song ? Then more than feathered songster ! Here along The fragrant copse thou peal'st melodious tow, — Whether of grief or joy I cannot trow. A wail of anguish ! Who can doubt that strain? The thorn is in its breast ! And then again That long-drawn cadence out yon willow bough ! I list once more : It trills a joyous lay ! Thy pensive sadness now has found relief! Like canzonet of fiow'ret hooded fay ! Yet seemed those mirth-notes oft constrained and brief; For still, methooght, thy /oy was never gay, — Perhaps, like me, thou know'st the joy of grief! d<4 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Breakfast, two donkeys instead of three, a driver not less worthy of long ears than the poor quadrupeds that he cudgelled ; and we are away, through Gensano, past Monte Giovo, following the descent of a lofty ridge of ancient lava far down into the plain, where it terminates in a hold pro- montory, crowned with the miserable kennel called Lav inia, built from the worthier ruins of Lanuvium, and surrounded with massive fragments of masonry older than the founda- tions of Rome. As we approached a small acclivity near the gate, we saw a company of tweuty or thirty men, with 'a priest in his robes at their head, running down toward us, with loud cries and violent gesticulations. Mr. H.' was alarmed, Mr. B. was amused, and the scribe and the quadru- peds were miscellaneously affected. None of us knew the- cause of the excitement; and before we had time for conjec- ture, two large cheeses came rolling down among us, en- dangering the legs of donkeys and the necks of riders. We dexterously avoided a collision, and paused to observe the proceeding. The men were bowling at a mark, and the lucky wight who hit it oftenest in a given number of times, was entitled to the cheese. They seemed to enjoy the game with a special zest, and were so engrossed that they scarcely noticed the three forestieri, though we rode through the midst of them. I believe Lavinia is seldom visited by tourists, but I have found nothing in Italy more wonderful than these ancient walls. The Temple of Juno Sospita is still standing, and likely to stand till its very stones become dust, such is the admirable solidity of the structure. Connected with it is a wall extending along the hill-side, of which I measured some of the stones, and found the largest eleven feet long and five feet thick. Parallel with the wall, and running the whole distance, is the most perfect piece of old polygonal pavement I met with in the country. Lanuvium was one THE ALBAN MOUNT. 375 of the confederate cities of Latium, memorable as tlie birth- place of Milo, of Murana, of Roscius the Comedian, and of the three Anton ini. After a stroll of two hours, we retraced our steps. With- out the gate, the men were still occupied with their arduous amusement, and the number had quadrupled, and the two cheeses had become seven, and the enthusiasm of the game had increased in the same proportion. We saw no one at work, for it was a festa day in honor of one of the saints ; yet the church appeared to be unoccupied, and few people were left in the town, for nearly the whole population had turned out to the cheese-bowling; and the parish priest — for such was the reverend ecclesiastic we had seen — was foremost in the race, and loudest in the laugh ! Hence to Lake Nemi, precisely like Lake Albano, only not half as large, and about two hundred feet higher. The Castle and town of Nemi adorn its eastern shore, standing on a lofty cliff which overhangs the water. Opposite sits Gen- sano on its wooded bank, with the Campagna and the sea- coast beyond. Toward the south rises Monte Artemisio, once adorned with the stately Temple of Diana; and at the base of the rock gushes forth the romantic fountain of Egeria. The woods remain on all sides, as when Ovid sang of " The sacred grove, The fields and meadows that the Muses love." The Roman emperors delighted in the scenery of this lake; and Trajan built a magnificent floating palace, and moored it in the centre. This singular edifice was more than five hundred feet long, nearly three hundred feet wide, and sixty feet high. It was constructed of the most durable timber, adorned within and without in the most costly manner, and supplied by means of pipes with abundance of the purest water from the Fountain of Egeria. The lake 376 A YEAR IN EUROPE. encircled it, like a wide moat around a Gothic castle ; and to prevent it from rising too high, a subterranean outlet was formed like that at Albano. In the sixteenth century, Marchi, a learned and ingenious Roman, descended in a diving machine to the bottom, where he found great quanti- ties of brass, and other metals, and made such explorations as enabled him to give a satisfactory description of this remark- able building. From Nenii we ascended Monte Cavo. After climbing two or three miles, we came to the Soldier's Lodge, on the ancient post-road to Naples. This institution has a curious history. A Neapolitan princess passing over the mountain was attacked by brigands, and narrowly escaped with her life. She immediately sent a number of soldiers hither to guard the pass; and when she died, left a sum of money to be applied in perpetuity to their support. The road has been abandoned for the last three centuries ; but the fund cannot be diverted from its original purpose, and a sergeant and six soldiers are kept here continually, guarding nothing but the rugged mountain-side, and the dreary chestnut forest. " Plow do you spend your time here ?" I asked one of them, as he lounged lazily in the sunshine. "We hunt a little/' he replied, " and play mora." " But have you no books to read 1" " yes, the lives of several saints, and three novels." "And have you no Bible ?" " We do not know that book ; we never saw it." " Does a priest never visit you ?" " very often, and confesses us too." " How long does he remain, when he comes ?" " Generally not long; but when we have plenty of wine, he stays all night, and we play many games at cards." As we continued to ascend, the sweet voice of the cuckoo rang out from the shady copse ; and on its clear liquid tones I floated back -to boyhood and to Somersetshire, where I had last heard it thirty-two years before ; and all the sorrows of THE ALBAN MOUNT. 377 those thirty-two years were compensated by the pleasure of that single hour. Another effort, and we are on the summit; where all the Latin tribes, with the Romans at their head, of old assembled annually to offer their common sacrifice; and where the victorious generals, with their armies, were accustomed to repair after a triumph, and pre- sent their grateful acknowledgments to the tutelar deity of the nation. A- temple of so much importance must have been a costly and magnificent structure, and we are informed that Augustus appointed regular corps of troops to guard the place and protect the sacred treasures. Raised on so lofty a pedestal, this superb temple must have been a very imposing object, when seen from Rome, or from any part of the Cam- pagna. But not one stone of it now remains upon another ; except here and there a mass of hewn travertine, or a bit of polished marble, built into the clumsy walls of the ugly con- vent of the Passionists, which occupies the ground whereon it stood. The Via Triumphalis may still be tracecl in its winding course down the side of the mountain, with the letters " N. V." cut at short intervals in the imperishable pavement, trodden only by sandalled monks, and pretty peasant girls, and a few forestieri. Half-way down the steep stands the church of the Madonna del Tufa, where the Blessed Virgin, a long time ago, arrested a large mass of rock as it fell from the brow of the mountain, and prevented it from doing immense mischief to the villas and vineyards below; in gratitude for which deed of distinguished good- ness, one of the popes erected this temple to her honor. 3Ions Latialis is in the .ZEneid what Mount Ida is in the Iliad, the commanding eminence whence the celestial powers watched the vicissitudes and fortunes of the war. Here sat " the Queen of heaven/' and " Surveyed the field, the Trojan powers, The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine towers." 378 A YEAR IN EUROPE. -And no situation could have been more favorable to the sur- vey. Here lies the scene of half the .iEneid, spread out like a map at your feet; the whole Rutulian territory, the land- ing-place of the Trojan fugitive, the seven hills where Evan- der reared his humble capital ; and the ancient Albula, " with a pleasant stream, whirling in rapid eddies, and yellow with much sand, rushing forward into the sea." On the other hand rise Monte Pila and the "Gelidus Algidus" of Horace; separated by a broad valley from Monte de' Fiori, and " the white rocks of Tusculum;" beyond which is seen the whole , Sabine range, with Tivoli, Monticelli, Palombara ; and still farther, the purple pyramid of Soracte, and the volcanic chain of Monte Cimino, like a wall of amethyst and jasper enclosing the glorious prospect. The Alban Lake seems so near, that one might almost drop a stone into its waters; and Neini, embosomed in a green circular valley, lies just beyond, " like a dew-drop in the hollow of a leaf;" and all around, upon every swell of the landscape, the white walls of convents and villages peep from their sylvan coverts — Albano, Gensano, Marino, La Eiccia, Palazzuola, Castel Gondolfo, Rocca di Papa, Grotta Ferrata, and many a nod- ding tower, and many a mouldering tomb. Which things having seen and surveyed, we descended from our classical Nebo, across the vast crater where Hannibal pitched his camp, along the sweet fields of Prince Aldobrandini which line the Via Latina, through orchards, and vineyards, and shady groves, and flowery avenues, where the viper lurks in the luxuriant grass, and the graceful ragone darts through the laurel hedge, and the brook that comes down from Tus- culurn murmurs a soft bass to the wild melody of the rosig- 11 nolo that sino-s the sun to rest ! LA CHIESA DEL GESTJ. 379 CHAPTEK XXIX. LA CHIESA DEL GESTJ. EXCURSION CHURCHES OF SANT' AGNESIA AND SANTA CONSTANTIA MONS SACER CATACOMBS OF SANT' ALESSANDRO TOMBS AND COLUM- BARIA CHURCH OF DOMINE QUO VADIS CATACOMBS OF SAN CALIS- TRO AND SAN SABASTIANO SEPULCHRE OF CECILIA METELLA MISCELLANEOUS PERAMBULATIONS LA CHIESA DEL GESU THE MUSIC THE SERMON THE COLLECTION — THE ILLUMINATION THE EFFECT— DISINTERESTED BENEVOLENCE REMARKS ON PREACHING RELEASE FROM PURGATORY ROME IS FINISHED. During the latter half of our sojourn in the Eternal City, we fortunately made the acquaintance of an excellent Ameri- can lady, long resident in Rome, who, with her gentlemanly son and amiahle daughter, showed us no little kindness, calling almost daily with her carriage to take us whitherso- ever we would, so that we saw more during the sweet month of May than we could otherwise have seen in a whole year. One of our most memorable excursions — memorable as well for the information we gained as for the pleasure we enjoyed — was through the Porta Pt'a, and along the Via JVbmentana. A mile beyond the wall stands the ancient church of Sant J Agnesia, founded by Constantine, and famous for the double row of marble pillars, one above the other, that supports the roof, and for the rich columns of porphyry and alabaster which adorn the altar and its taber- 380 A YEAR IN EUROPE. nacle. Near this edifice is the interesting church of Santa Constantia, the daughter of Constantine, formerly her mau- soleum, and probably at an earlier period a temple of Bacchus. It is of circular form, supported by a row of coupled columns, and crowned with a spacious dome. Behind the pillars runs a gallery, whose vaulted roof is encrusted with antique mo- saics, representing pretty little genii, playing with blushing clusters of grapes, amid the curling tendrils of the vine. The tomb of the fair saint was worthy of so splendid a place — a vast porphyry vase, ornamented with various figures, now shown to visitors in the museum of the Vatican. Two miles farther we crossed the Anio on the Ponte La- mentano, the ancient Pons Nomentanus ; and just beyond this, on the right, we saw the immortal Mons Sacer, twice dignified by the retreat and determinate but temperate re- sistance of an oppressed but generous people. It is a lonely eminence, of no great elevation, steep toward the river, in the form of a rampart, covered with luxuriant grass and bril- liant flowers, but without human ornament or memorial, and looking to me very much as Bunker Hill did to a young lady from the city of New York — "Nothing but a common country hill l" Yet few places about Borne, none perhaps, are more worthy of their distinction ; as few incidents, if any, in Roman history, are more honorable to the Boman people, than those which took place upon this same lions Sacer, where they displayed in so remarkable a manner the three grand principles which constituted the grandeur of the Boman character — firmness, moderation, and magnanimity. Half an hour more brings us to the Catacombs of Sani 1 Alessandro, the most interesting of all these subterranean cemeteries of the early Christians, because very recently opened — since 1853 I believe — and its sacred deposits remain as they were found. Sant' Alessandro was a Christian bishop, beheaded in the reign of Hadrian; and here lies his dust be- LA CHIESA DEL G E S IT . 381 neath an elegantly wrought altar of marble, whence for eighteen centuries, with the whole " noble army of martyrs," his voice has been heard in heaven, saying, " How long, Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth !" Near it is an in- scription to "Amnianctti, a martyr, in peace." Another record informed us that its subject was a stranger, arrested on his journey, led to the martyr's block, and laid here by his Roman brethren to await the resurrection of the just. Over one of these dark resting-places of the saints of Jesus, we read these touching words : " 0, unhappy times, when we cannot worship with safety even in caverns, nor enjoy the hope of being buried by our friends I" Furnished with wax-candles, we walked an hour or more through the sub- terranean galleries, narrow and crooked and dismal ; with three tiers of tombs on either side, some of them still un- sealed, and others open to the inspection of visitors ; in which we saw the bones of the blessed who passed "through great tribulation into the kingdom of heaven," with vials containing " the seed of the Church," and often the instru- ments of martyrdom. But it is not safe to penetrate far into these gloomy labyrinths, some of which are very extensive, and only partially explored ; and there is a fact on record, a sad warning to subsequent adventurers, of the loss of a large party in those of Saint' Calistro. Retracing our steps into the light of day, we lingered long about the beautiful altar, and walked to and fro over the elegant mosaic pavement, and observed many finely wrought columns of precious mar- ble, all of which belonged to a Christian church, built proba- bly in the time of Constantine, and uncovered within the last three or four years. A few weeks before we left Rome, poor old Father Pius, with his cardinals, and a long train of gorgeously attired ecclesiastics, burning wax-candles in the face of the sun, and chanting Latin invocations to the mar- 382 A YEAR IN EUROPE. tyrs all the way, went out, in apostolic state, to lay the foundation-stone of a church and convent of the Trappists on the same ground, lest a place so holy should be dese- crated by some profane or secular appropriation. Another day we took the Via Appia, as far as the Tomb of Cecilia Metella, pausing to inspect the many objects of interest by the way. We drove along the Strada di Cerchi, between the ruined arches of the Imperial Palace and the site of the Circus Maximus, across the Aqua Mar anna which comes down from the Vale of Egeria, through the Triumphal Arch of Drusus, the ancient Porta Capena, and the present Porta San Sabastiano. We trod the soil once occupied by the splendid Mausolea of the Scipios, long since demolished ; and descended into the Columbaria of "Caesar's" household," and took from one of the sacred urns a handful of human ashes. Originally the Roman dead were buried ; but afterward cremation was adopted as the common custom, though the great patrician families still adhered to the ancient method of interment. The bodies were wrapped in asbestos for burning ; this, being incombustible, preserved the ashes; which were subsequently deposited in urns, and placed in these sepulchral niches, hewn out of the solid rock, or prepared in walls and towers erected for the purpose. We passed also the spot where once stood the temple of Mars, at which the victorious army always paused as they entered the city; and a little farther on, we paused to look at the little church called " Domine Quo Vadis" — a strange name, with a stranger origin. The tradition is, that Peter was flying from Rome to escape persecution, when he here met his Master, and addressed to him the question — "Domine, quo vadis ?'-'— Lord, whither goest thou ? The Master as- sured his cowardly disciple that he was going to Rome to be crucified in his stead ; then vanishing, left the impress of his feet upon the pavement where he stood; and there are LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 383 still his tracks in the eternal stone, and I have seen them with these same spectacles ! Wonder not, Christian reader, that Simon hastened back to the city, and desired to be crucified with his head downward ! We passed the Catacombs of San Calistro ; which, having no permit, we could not enter. Into those of San Sabas- tiano, however, we did descend, following a monk of most villainous physiognomy • but saw nothing, and wished our- selves above ground, and gladly embraced the first oppor- tunity of return to the upper world. But here is the proudest memorial of Republican Rome, the Mausoleum of Cecilia Metella, erected by the wealthy Crassus in honor of his wife, just before the Christian era. It is a magnificent circular tower, originally encased with white marble, seventy feet in diameter, and of proportionate elevation. Within is a chamber, which formerly contained a richly sculptured sarcophagus ; but in the time of Paul the Third, this was removed to the Farnesian Palace, where it is still to be seen. The roof, which must have been conical, has given place to unsightly battlements, which Murray says were built in the thirteenth century, when the tomb was converted into a fortress ; but the Marquis de Bonaparte, who saw it in the early part of the sixteenth century, assures us that it was at that time as perfect as in the days of Crassus: Such, indeed, is the admirable solidity of this fine structure, that, as a late writer observes, "it seems reared for eternity;" and but for human hands, it had probably been entire at the present day, and remained unmarred for centuries to come. A famous antiquary — Boissard — attributed to this edifice "a wonderful echo, which gave back seven or eight times, dis- tinctly and articulately, words spoken within a certain distance ; so that, at the funeral solemnities which Crassus celebrated in honor of his wife, the wailings of the mourners were infinitely multiplied ; as if the infernal gods, and all 384 A YEAR IN EUROPE'. the souls that inhabit the shades below, had, in commisera- tion of the fate of the deceased Cecilia, bewailed her from beneath the earth with continued lamentations, and testified their desire to blend their common grief on her account with the tears of the living I" And then we wandered where Numa walked at eventide, through the sacred Vale of Egeria, and drank from her sacred fountain, and sat down in the cool shade of her sacred grove — at least, of its modern representative. And then we roamed over the Aventine, where Cacus lived, and Her- cules triumphed, and the twin brother of Romulus had his unpropitious augury; where shone the glorious fane of Diana, built by the joint contributions and in the joint names of all the Latin tribes ; and the temples of Juno and Dea Bona ; with many other stately edifices, of which not a vestige remains — not a mouldering arch, nor a shattered wall, nor a broken pillar, to indicate their locality. And there, just within the Aurelian Wall, was Monte Testaccio — a hill two or three hundred feet high, and not less than a mile in circumference, composed entirely of broken pottery, in the sides of which are excavated the immense wine-cel- lars of modern Rome. And near it rose the pyramid of Caius Cestius, in humble imitation of those of the Pharaohs — a hundred feet in diameter, and a hundred and fifty in altitude — looking down upon the Protestant Cemetery, and appearing to preside over those fields of silence and mor- tality. And not more than a hundred paces from its base sleeps the poet Keats, beneath that sad inscription — " Here lies one whose name was writ in water ;" and just under the wall, the genius and atheist Shelley, with a son of Coethe, and many English and American artists and tourists, who have lain down to their last sleep here in the land of strangers. It is a delightful place, laid out in handsome avenues, well shaded with cypress and the weeping-willow, LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 385 and environed on all sides with natural beauties and the most impressive remembrancers of long-departed generations. An artist sat upon a tombstone sketching the scene, so absorbed that he did not notice us as we passed; and an English lady in black was wandering sadly about in quest of an inscription which might tell her where to drop a tear for one she had loved; but, though we joined her in the search, it was in vain, and she left "the mournful field" without having found the resting-place of her buried friend. Hence to the church, on the Via Ostiensis, built on the very ground where Paul was beheaded, and over the three fountains that gushed up where his head struck as it bounded down the hill; which three fountains are no fiction, Protestant reader, for I saw them myself, and drank of their water ! Back to the city, and down into the Mamer- tine and Tullian Prisons ; where the same Paul was incar- cerated, for there was the pillar to which he was bound; and Peter also, for there was the impression of the apostle's head, where the jailer savagely thrust him against the rock; and there was the spring of living water, which burst forth when the same savage jailer desired Christian baptism at the hands of the prisoner, and still keeps flowing — a perpetual miracle — ■ for the conviction of skeptical forestieri 1 Our last day in Rome was a Sabbath. The chaplain to the American Legation was gone, and the chapel at the Braschi Palace was closed for the season. So, while Jinny read Saint Paul and Bossuet at home, I went to La Chiesa del Gesu to hear a sermon from a Jesuit. The privilege of that morning I would not have missed for half of all the other entertainments I enjoyed during my European tour. The sublime fooleries of Holy Week at St. Peter's — the pope in his jewelled vestments, tottering upon men's shoulders as they bore him in his lofty chair about the 17 388 A YEAR IN EUROPE. church, displaying his bastard godhood, and blessing his abject worshippers — the magnificent array of the cardinals in their crimson robes, and the long train of priests and monks, foreign princes and legates, and numberless officials of lower degree, with forests of palm-branches and tons of wax-candles — the striped gorgeousness of the Swiss Guards with their plumes and pikes, and the bristling immensity of French bayonets, and the sound of a hundred brazen instru- ments, and the mighty roar of that unrivalled choir — these and all the rest were nothing in the comparison. The church is one of the largest and richest in Rome, for it is the principal church of the Jesuits, and connected with the convent which is the head-quarters of their order and the residence of their chief officer. With three American friends, I was at the door more than thirty minutes before the hour ; but it took us two-thirds of that time to effect an entrance, and find seats within hearing distance of the platform. There must have been sis or eight thousand peo- ple in the assembly ; yet this, I am informed, was only an ordinary occasion. There is preaching here every Sabbath, and the immense edifice is always thronged. At length we were comfortably seated, and in a few moments the organ began — the very finest in Rome, and played with admirable skill. Then came the soft tone of a single voice, sweet as an. angel's. Another followed, and then another, and another ; and the song rose by degrees, swelling into a majestic chorus, which filled the spacious edifice. The music I thought much superior to that of St. Peter's and the Sistine Chapel — better even than the performance of the far-famed Miserere. The harmony may have been less perfect — of that I am not a judge; but finer voices certainly I have never heard, and richer strains seemed to me impossible this side of paradise. But when the whole great concourse joined the song, it was " as the sound of many waters LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 387 and mighty thunderings." Alas, it was a hymn to the saints ! The music ceased, and a tall man, of middle age, but somewhat, gray, in the dress of the order, ascended the plat- form, and took his seat. Ho announced his text sitting, then rose and commenced his discourse. Nothing could ex- ceed the ease and fluency of his utterance, but the grace and energy of his action. Though I understood but little of what he said, it was the best lesson in elocution I ever received. He was not boxed up in a pulpit, but stood upon an open stage, with nothing to hinder the freedom of his movements, or obstruct the view of his hearers. He had no notes, and needed none j the audience, the occasion, and the subject furnished sufficient inspiration. In five minutes all his powers seemed to be engaged, and for a full half houi he poured forth an incessant torrent of melodious words, with a force and fire such as I never saw except in some few of our American Methodist preachers, and with an ease and elegance of delivery which I never knew equalled by preacher of any order. From beginning to end, I believe, there was not a single sentence unaccompanied by a signifi- cant gesture, which evidently added greatly to the effect of his discourse, and which aided very much my shallow know- ledge of Italian in comprehending his meaning. Of course, I understood but little of the sermon ; but I caught here and there a sentence — enough to enable me to make out that the immaculate conception of " the mother of G-od," and her claims upon the adoration of all Christians, were the main topics of discourse ; and that all who disbelieved the one, or disregarded the other, were vigorously denounced, and adjudged to the depths of hell. When he had been speaking for about twenty-five minutes with a beauty which I thought could not be surpassed, he suddenly took fire and went off like a sky-rocket. I never 388 A YEAR IN EUROPE. heard such rapidity of utterance, connected with intonations and inflections so varied and melodious, and a manner alto- gether so inimitable. His fine person and noble counte- nance, his long black robe and flowing mantle, added to an action histrionic and striking to the last degree, would have formed an admirable study for an artist. The effect pro- duced was very great, and the people wept around me as I have often seen them weep at a camp-meeting. The tempest over, the preacher took his seat, wiped the dew of agony from his brow, drew out a package of papers, read two or three of them to the audience, talked about pass- ports from purgatory to paradise in connection with thirty scudi, and exhorted his hearers to charity toward the souls in limbo, while the collection-bags went round. There was evidently a large sum contributed toward that worthy object, for the bag which was shaken at me for some seconds, and which, I suppose, would hold a peck or more, appeared to be two-thirds full when it passed, and so heavy that the collector carried it with difficulty, and there were not less than six or eight of these bobbing about in different parts of the church. While this good work was going on, half-a-dozen men, with tapers attached to the end of long poles, were busy in lighting up the altar and the tribune. There was a perfect forest of wax-candles, some of them very large, and the illu- mination grew and brightened every moment. Then the preacher rose again, and resumed his discourse with a fervor even greater than before. Nothing could transcend the elegant energy of his elocution. He extended his arms aloft, and called upon the virgin and the martyrs. He folded them upon his heart, and bowed his head in the attitude of penitential shame. He smote his breast and his brow as if in agony. He wrapped his face in his mantle, and appeared to weep. He paced the platform with energy. Pie pointed LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 389 now to the cross, now to the Madonna, and now to the lights which thicken about the altar. The moment the illumina- tion was complete — and there were five hundred wax-candles burning, for I counted them, and they were most artisti- cally arranged — he turned toward the splendid spectacle, stretched forth his hands and cried — "Ecco la ! ecco la !" Behold it ! behold . it ! Suddenly the immense multitude arose and fell upon their knees, with their faces toward the altar, while the preacher continued his exhortation in a strain of increasing fervor, and tears flowed freely from many an eye, and suppressed sobs and groans were audible on every side. The preacher paused, the organ began, the choir soon fol- lowed, and anon the audience took up the strain ; and for half an hour, choir and audience responded to each other, and I thought it the most delightful music I had ever heard. But the exquisite beauty of the performance, and the enthu- siastic heartiness with which the multitude participated, made me melancholy, when I reflected upon its connection with a system so dishonorable to Grod, so degrading to man, and so hostile to the spirit of true religion. A kind old lady near me, whose face was suffused with tears, besought me, for the love of the blessed Virgin, to kneel down. I was sorry, of course, to disoblige her, and at last she was evidently somewhat displeased with my obsti- nate resistance of her benevolent importunity. One of our party, an American lady, and a member of a Protestant Church at home, was so overcome by what she saw and heard, that she fell upon her knees with the rest, and con- tinued in that position for fifteen minutes or more ; never thinking, as she afterward told me, that she was worshipping any other than Grod himself. Mr. Mood and myself kept our seats, notwithstanding the fervid exhortations of the preacher, and his denunciations of persistent Protestantism, 390 A YEAR IN EUROPE. seconded by the disinterested efforts of my old female friend. Verily, I wonder not that young ladies in America, who are sent to convents for their education, so seldom pass through the process without conversion : there is so much in the ceremonies and superstitions of the Roman Catholic Church that is so attractive to the youthful fancy, and so impressive to the youthful imagination. Nay, I wonder, rather, that any should escape such a consummation. I heard six Roman Catholic sermons in Rome — one in St. Peter's, two in San Carlo's, and three in three other churches — two of them in the Italian language, one in French, one in Russian, one in German, and one in English. The last- mentionecl was by Doctor Manning, a late pervert from the. British Establishment, a man of superior learning and abili- ties, but a very indifferent preacher. His manner was cold and feeble j he recited his lesson like a schoolboy ; and never in my life did I hear a more miserable specimen of logic. The others — even he from the snows of Russia — dis- played considerable warmth, and in some cases delivered themselves with an ardor worthy of a better cause; and while listening to them, I could not help wishing that our Protestant preachers oftener carried with them in their work something of the same genial enthusiasm. Even in Amer- ica, and among the ministers of our own Church — the most earnest I believe in the world — the manner of the pulpit is generally too tame and cold, and some there are whose delivery is formal and frigid to the last degree of endurance. We should certainly speak more earnestly, if we felt as we ought the weight of our message and the responsibility of our vocation. The Papists preach falsehood as if they believed it to be truth, and were anxious to impress it as such upon their auditors ; we too often proclaim the everlasting verities of Heaven as if we had no faith in them ourselves, and cared but little what effect they produced upon others. LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 891 It is true, other Roman Catholic performances are generally sufficiently dull and monotonous; but the preaching, espe- cially that of the monks and Jesuits, is in many instances fraught with a refreshing fervor and a most impressive energy. Suspended over the altar in this church is the largest known piece of lapis-lazuli in the world. But as we de- parted, I saw without something far more interesting than this. Pasted upon the wall, and reaching to a considerable height on each side of the door, were great numbers of printed papers, each about a foot square, with the representation of a skeleton in the centre. I had often seen these before, and supposed them to relate to the burial of the dead ; but upon examination, I now found that they were certificates of the release of souls from purgatory by masses said and paid for in this church. This helped to explain what I had just heard about the passports and thirty scucli. In the piazza fronting this church there is generally a strong breeze, which the Romans account for in a manner most complimentary to the Jesuits. They say that the wind was one day walking with the devil : when they came to this place the latter said to his companion, " I have something to do in here — wait for me a moment." The devil entered, but never came out; and the wind still waits for him in the square. At length we must bid adieu to Rome. We have remained already much longer than we intended. Four months have been well occupied, but I cannot say that I have yet seen Rome. Four years, indeed, were not sufficient for the pur- pose. Rome is inexhaustible. Hope of returning I have none; yet many of the most interesting objects and localities must remain unvisited, and others but partially explored and imperfectly understood. As it is, however, I depart deeply impressed with what I have beheld of the Historic City — 392 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the remains of her ancient grandeur, the magnificence of her modern architecture, the wealth of her museums and gal- leries of art, the unrivalled beauty of her suburban villas and classical environs; but impressed still more with her weakness, her blindness, her imbecile policy, her sorceries and superstitions, her beggared populace and fast-declining power — constituting at once a manifest fulfilment of pro- phecy, and a tremendous prophecy yet to be fulfilled ! She is still "Majestic Rome," but her crown is in the dust, and the prestige of her victory is gone. The once proud " Mistress of the World" sits, a lone widow, in dotage and decrepitude, amid the ruins of her palace, asking alms of all who pass her gates. Her bishop is a recognized sove- reign, but his prerogatives cannot be hereditary; and foreign" bayonets guard his person, and prop his tottering throne. Claiming the right to rule the world, he can scarcely keep in subjection the few leagues of territory called the Papal States, and he sits trembling within the walls, of the Vatican, and under the very shadow of Sant' Angelo. The pretended head of the Church, and vicar of Jesus Christ, having the keys of the kingdom of heaven, he is not master of his own official acts, and is really less free than his own footman. The cardinals are princes, and generally they are men of learn- ing and ability ; but their talents are degraded to the most miserable time-serving devices, and all loftier aims are lost in the low craft of avarice and unworthy ambition. Rome claims to be " the holiest of cities," and " the capital of the Christian world;" but there is no city of Europe that has less of vital godliness, or even of true morality. Her modern churches rival her ancient temples ; but they are dedicated chiefly to saints and martyrs; and painted can- vas, and chiselled marble, and manufactured relics, are wor- shipped in them more than the living God; and the idolatry of which they are the daily scenes is not less gross than that LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 393 which was practiced in pagan Rome. Five thousand priests and friars walk her streets; but scarcely one in a hundred of her people has any respect for their profession, or any confi- dence in their virtue. The mansions of her nobles are fit residences for monarchs; but their spacious apartments are peopled only with statues and pictures, and their masters live retired upon the pitiful revenue which they receive from strangers who come to visit their galleries. She has but one railroad, and that is only fourteen miles in length ; but one newspaper, and that is little more than a weekly announce- ment of the arrival and departure of foreigners. " How is the mighty fallen \" She that sat enthroned over the world, and regarded the earth as only a highway for her legions — she that trod upon the necks of kings, while nations fell prostrate in the dust before her — has become a beggar at the gates of foreign princes, and survives by swindling and plundering such as come to muse amid the wrecks of her former greatness. Her ecclesiastical thunders are unheeded, her political resources are exhausted, her exchequer is empty, and her prisons are full. Her streets swarm with mendicants, and murmur night and day with popular discontent ; though there are three thousand spies, in the pay of the government, going constantly about the city, unknown to the people, and generally even to one another; and there is one or more of them at this hour in every coffee-house, and in every place of trade or of public resort. Yet Rome is a city of strange and wondrous interest. It grows upon you in proportion as it is explored, and the longer you remain, the more reluctant you are to leave. I have groped among the mouldering substructions of her temples and theatres, and looked down from many a height upon the fading memorials of her ancient opulence and power. I have wandered at sunset along the banks of the 17* 894 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Albula, and reclined at noonday in the bowers of suburban villas, communing with the spirit of the past ; and imbibing full draughts of beauty through every sense. After all, the landscape scenery of Italy is to me its greatest charm ; and the sylvan environs of the Historic City never cloy, like the works of art with which her churches and saloons are crowded ; for nature is always fresh, and her aspects are ever varying, and even the same view often presents new beauties to the eye ; and where every spot has a classical renown ; and every object speaks of the greatest empire that ever rose and ruled and fell, there is a perpetual feast of solemn thought, with perennial springs of wisdom ! FROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 395 CHAPTER XXX. PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. LAST VIEW OF ST. PETER'S MONTE SORACTE — CIVITA CASTELLANA CAMILLUS AND THE SCHOOLMASTER THE UMBRIAN HILLS OCRI- COLI NARNI TERNI AND ITS FALLS SHORT METHOD WITH BEGGARS SPOLETTO THE CLITUMNUS FOLIGNO SPELLO SANTA MARIA DEGLI ANGELI ASSISI SAINT FRANCIS AND HIS ORDER — GROTTA DEI VOLUMNI THE ETRUSCANS PERUGIA BATTLE OF THRASYME- NUS THE PAPAL FRONTIER BRIGANDS. Now bind the sandals on the pilgrim's feet, And bring his staff; for lo! the meek-eyed morn Smiles o'er the Sabine Hills with sweetest grace! To thee, old Rome, the tribute of a tear; For never more the pilgrim shall behold Thy. venerable ruins, ivy-clad, And eloquent of human impotence ; The yellow Tiber, and the Pantheon; The Forum, and the Coliseum gray; Temples, and towers, and that majestic dome! From Rome to Florence, by way of Perugia — a journey of two hundred miles through the most charming region of Italy — was a week of unmingled pleasure. Through the kindness of our friend, Mr. Bartholomew, it had been arranged for us to travel by vettura — with one of the best American families it was our good fortune to meet with in Europe — Mr. John Olmsted, of Hartford, his pious, amiable, and accomplished wile and daughter, and their 396 A YEAR IN EUROPE. courier Dominico — an intelligent and good-natured Italian, who thought himself a Christian, the pope a humbug, and confession a bore. Accordingly, on a fine Monday morning, in the end of May, we bade adieu to many who had endeared themselves to us by their obliging offices, and drove forth through the Porto del Popolo, over the Ponte Molle, along the Via Flaminia, with the flowery Campagna on the one side and the classic Tiber on the other, toward the pyramidal Soracte and the Umbrian Hills. Whenever we gained some little eminence, and turned to look back upon objects we shall never behold again, the magnificent proportions of St. Peter's — the first and the last that the stranger sees of Koine — stood in bold relief against the beautiful sky. Again and again, as we passed over the hills, we paused, and gazed, - and lingered, and breathed what we deemed a last adieu; but as often as we ascended another elevation, and turned to look once more, there it was still — the most majestic thing in Europe — swelling proudly up into the tranquil azure j and long after every other dome had disappeared in the distance like Orpah behind Naomi, this seemed to follow us like the fond and faithful Ruth. We had now travelled five or six hours, when our road mounted a lofty ridge, beyond which it descended for a great distance ; and knowing that this would certainly be the last view, I left the vettura, and ran up into the field, where from the top of the rock I still beheld it — the only object visible upon the horizon; and I could have wept, as I slowly descended the hill, and St. Peter's sank out of my sight for ever. As in passing the conscious meridian of life we naturally turn from the past to the contemplation of the future, so we now ceased to look back upon what we had left behind, for another object before us attracted our attention, growing every moment in magnitude and in interest. From the dome of St. Peter's, from the tower of the Capitol, from the PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 897 green bowers of the Janiculum, from the breezy heights of Albano, and from many an eminence overlooking the golden Tiber, for the last four months I had admired the form of Monte Soracte, rising in lone grandeur from the undulat- ing plain, a pyramid of rock in the centre of a mountain amphitheatre ; but now, as we drew near, its bold outline be- came more sharply defined, its deep hue of amethyst changed into emerald and jasper, and with every mile of our approach it assumed new majesty and beauty. Its isolated situation, its ever-changing form, its densely wooded base, its bare and rugged sides, the picturesque town upon its southern flank, the three convents which crown its very apex, and the melo- dious verse of Virgil, of Horace, and of Byron, invested it with a peculiar charm, and I found it difficult to turn my eyes in any other direction. The town alluded to is St. Oreste, occupying the place of the ancient Feroniaj and the principal convent is that of San Sylvestro, founded in the eighth century, where once stood the temple of Apollo, and where now pause the weary feet of many a foolish pilgrim. Our first night's lodging we found at Civita Castellana. We were quartered here, as generally in Italy, in the same house with the horses ; they occupying the front rooms of the lower story, and we the back rooms of the upper. The apartments, however, were clean, the beds quite com- fortable, and the table tolerably well supplied with whole- some food. Having an hour or two before sunset, we re- freshed ourselves a little, and went forth to see the town. A few steps from our hotel we encountered a prison, from whose grated windows long poles were thrust out as we passed, with little bags attached to the ends of them, accom- panied with imploring cries from within for medzi bajocchi — the only method which the inmates have of begging, and, I am informed, also in many instances their only means of living. We wandered about the streets, through the 398 A YEAR IN EUROPE. cathedral, around the castle, over the bridges, along the ravines, and everywhere met with objects of gratifying interest. The surrounding country is exceedingly beautiful ; and Monte Soracte looked more glorious than ever in the light of the setting sun, while the sweet villages beyond seemed so many cameos cut out of the mountain-side. Civita Castellana, occupying the site of the ancient Faleri- um — one of the twelve cities of the Etruscan League — is built upon a table-land, perfectly surrounded by a deep and precipitous gulf. " The massive masonry of the old walls is still seen in many places on the verge of the cliff, and the rocks below are pierced with numerous tombs and emissaries. A curious story is told in connection with the siege of the city by Camillus : A schoolmaster, having in charge a large number of the sons of the Falerian nobility, under the pre- tence of taking them out for an evening walk, led them directly to the Koman camp, and betrayed them into the hands of the enemy, thinking to be handsomely rewarded for his perfidy; but the deed so incensed the generous com- mander that he ordered the boys to scourge their master back into the city; and his magnanimity so delighted the citizens that they surrendered at once to the Romans. In the morning, poor Dominico, who had lodged in the lower story, appeared to wait on the breakfast-table, looking sad and sleepy, with one eye badly swollen. He had evidently been rudely treated by his bedfellows, with which he said he had waged a most bloody nightlong battle ; but, after slaugh- tering some scores of them, had been fairly driven from the field before the dawn of day. Resuming our journey, not without much sympathy for the unfortunate Dominico, we- crossed the gulf on a noble bridge, a hundred and twenty feet high; and after an hour's drive through a very beautiful country, recrossed the Tiber on the Ponte Felici, originally built by the Emperor Augustus, and leaving Etruria behind, FROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 399 began to ascend the wooded hills of Umbria. On the side of the river toward Rome, occupying the summit of a little hill, stood the dismantled fortress of Borghetto — one of the most picturesque of mediaeval ruins ; and on the opposite side lay the field of Macdonald's brilliant achievement in 1798, who, with an army not more than one-third that of the enemy, cut his way through the Neapolitan ranks, and forced the passage of the Tiber. On the height a little beyond, we found the mean little village of Otricoli — the modern repre- sentative of the renowned Ocriculum — the first of the Uin- brian cities that voluntarily submitted to the Romans. The view, as we ascended the mountain, was extremely fine — Soracte rising into the clouds behind us, the Tiber winding through the valley beneath us, the Nera rushing along the bottom of a dark ravine on our left, the Apennines towering to a sublime altitude on our right, and the hills before us covered to their summits with terraced vineyards and luxuri- ant fields of wheat. Next came Narni — the ancient Umbrian Narnia — with its castle and its convents, commanding a valley of great extent and fertility ; and in the ravine below, the bridge of Augustus, built of massive blocks of uncement- ed marble, and once traversed by the great Flaminian Way, still spanning the stream with its gigantic arches — one of the noblest relics of imperial times. And now it is noon, and we are at Terni — the ancient Interamni — the reputed birthplace of a great Roman histo- rian, and of two Roman emperors. The chief attraction here is the falls of the Velino, five miles from the town. Having dined, we procure a carriage, and go forth to see one of the greatest sights in Italy. Our road is all the way up hill, and for some distance it is excavated in the face of the precipice, actually overhung by the solid mass of the mountain, while the torrent frets and foams through a gorge at a frightful depth below. But here is the terminus, and 400 A YEAR IN EUROPE. we are obliged to alight because we can go no farther. Sud- denly we are surrounded by a host of donkeys and drivers, with twice as many guides and assistants, and beggars as thick as Italian fleas. Some we patronize, and some we pay to hold their peace. But for every one thus silenced or dis- missed, two new-comers set up their clamorous appeal ; insisting with marvellous pertinacity on assisting our pere- grinations, or relieving our purses. Nowhere else, even in Italy, have we been so formidably besieged. It is with the utmost difficulty, though aided by a good cicerone, that we succeed in forcing our way through the babbling throng to the head of the cascade. Here we are astonished, delighted, and plentifully besprinkled with spray. Then we descend, and enjoy a much finer view from below, and a more copious shower-bath withal. Still descending, and crossing the tor- rent upon a narrow footbridge, we gain the opposite side of the dell, where we have a complete panorama of the several cascades, and the rapids below. No words can. describe the magnificence of the scene. The river precipitates itself, at a single leap, Murray says five or sis hundred feet — and per- haps it is no exaggeration — over a precipice. The entire fall has been variously estimated at from nine to twelve hun- dred feet. There is nothing else like this in Italy. Even Niagara, though much grander on account of the immense body of water, falls only a hundred and sixty-four feet. But on this subject I must observe an exemplary brevity and sobriety, for be thou well assured, most gracious reader, that my more enthusiastic fellow-traveller and fellow-writer, when she comes to do up her notes of Terni, as usual after having seen a little water running over a rock, will treat thee to a prolix and very edifying rhapsody. Beturning, we passed through the beautiful grounds of the Villa G-razziana, where Queen Caroline once resided in her grass-widowbooci, where she entertained Sir Walter PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 401 Scott, and capsized the tub in the cellar, and who knows what else ? The place looks rather lonely now, though the air is perfumed with orange-blossoms, and " the vine with the tender grape giveth a good smell," and the brave old ilex-trees along the avenue seem formed to shade the head of royal beauty. This little side excursion cost us three pauls apiece for the carriage, three for each mule, five to the postilion, six to the cicerone, seven to the several custodies, eight to the swind- ling government, all our half-pauls to the assistants, all our medzi bajocchi to the beggars, and a good share of our pa- tience besides ; yet the expense and the annoyance were more than compensated by the pleasure which they pro- cured us. At our hotel we found a blind fiddler, by no means a bad performer, whom we patronized in the evening to the extent of five pauls — fifty cents — and who, in consideration of the same, gave us five good pieces on his Cremona. A night's rest and an early breakfast, backed by an enor- mous bill, and we are off through the sweet vale of Terni, and over the romantic pass of Monte Somma. The govern- ment tariff requires that we shall add to our four horses a yoke of oxen to draw us up the mountain ; and so we go creeping up the ravine and along the precipice ; and have all the better opportunity to see and survey at leisure the fine scenery around us. Five or six miles, and we pass Casa del Papa — the villa and summer-residence of Leo the Twelfth — now an indifferent albergo — on the side of a dreary hill. It was here, by a happy experiment, I learned how to rid oneself of the annoying importunity of the Italian beggars. This pass swarms with them — generally children, and chiefly little girls — not one in fifty of whom seems to be really in need of charity. Good Mrs. Olmsted never suffered one that looked sick, or poor, or hungry, to 402 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ask in vain, so long as there was aught left in the bag. Unfortunately, however, the more we gave, the more they begged ; and as our supplies diminished, the applicants mul- tiplied ; and all our small change was gone, and also our bread and cheese, before the twentieth part of them were satisfied. I resolved to turn beggar myself, and to the first that approached I promptly presented my hat before, she had an opportunity to begin, saying in as piteous a tone as I could : "Date mi qualche cosa, Carra Signorina mia— medzo hajoccho mi contento." This measure was singularly effectual ; and I beg leave respectfully to recommend' it to all my friends who may hereafter travel in Italy, under the title of "A Short Method with Beggars/' On the other side of the mountain we found Spoletto — the ancient Spoletium — overlooking the valley of the Cli- tumnus, and an extensive tract of the most delightful coun- try in the world. The citadel, built by Theodoric during the Gothic wars, frequently altered and enlarged, is now used as a prison. The Porta d'Annibale, probably a Roman structure, bears witness to the resistance which the Cartha- ginian here met with in his march through Umbria, after the battle of Thrasymenus, proving the fidelity of the city to the Roman cause, and its strength, to have braved the conqueror, and arrested his progress in the very flush of vic- tory. Over a ravine which separates the city from Monte Luco is a tier of arches, two hundred and sixty-six feet high, serving both as an aqueduct and a bridge, attributed to the Romans, but probably the work of the Lombard dukes of Spoletto. Monte Luco is remarkable for its monastery, its numerous hermitages, and its sacredly-guarded grove of majestic oaks. The town contains a highly-decorated cathe- dral, with some remains of an ancient theatre, and of three pagan temples. In the middle ages it was an important place, and long maintained its independence; but Avas at PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 403 length conquered by Frederic Barbarossa, by whom it was pillaged and burned. One of the chronicles of Spoletto, relating to the civil wars of the Guelphs and the Grhibbilines, contains the fol- lowing horrible picture of political fanaticism carried to the extreme verge of, ferocity: When the Ghibbilines were burning the houses of their adversaries, a woman, who had married a Guelph, and had two sons, seeing her own brother about to fire her dwelling, ascended to the top of the tower with her children, and thence implored his compassion. He promised her salvation only on condition that she would throw the two embryo Gruelphs down into the flames ; but the mother's love was stronger than the fear of death, and she perished with her sons. From Spoletto we descended into the valley of the Cli- tumnus, called by Bonaparte "the garden of Italy." For forty miles or more, the country is one continuous vineyard ; and the earth was covered with a luxuriant growth of wheat, fast ripening for the harvest. The white and dove-colored cattle which abound here are the noblest animals I ever beheld — descendants of those from among which the sacred victims were chosen in the days of classic song. The Clituinnus, celebrated by Virgil and by Byron, bursts a full- grown river, limpid as May-dew, from the base of the moun- tain. Near its source is the temple of the river-god — a small building, of fine proportions — perhaps the very one mentioned by the younger Pliny. Our third night was spent at Foligno, famous for wax-can- dles. At the gate by which we entered still stood the triumphal arch and colonnade, composed of palm-branches and flowers, constructed in honor of the pope on his late visit to the city. It is said that the Holy Father intended to take Perugia in his tour, and a similar structure was erected there ; but during the night preceding his expected 404 A YEAR IN EUROPE. arrival it was completely demolished and burned; where- upon he turned aside at Foligno, and took the road to Loretto. It is reported also that his pockets were full of pardons for the political prisoners at Perugia, but after such treatment he refused to dispense any of them, though the offenders had remained eight years incarcerated without trial. The ostensible object of his tour was a religious pil- grimage ; but it is since rumored that he was advised to it by France and Austria, in view of certain indications of popular discontent rife throughout this portion of his do- minions ; which rumor has been alarmingly corroborated by recent developments. In the public square, near the centre of the town, we saw- a fine Corinthian pillar, sixty feet high, composed entirely of white wax ; the shaft consisting of enormous candles, the capital elaborately wrought with flowers, a colossal statue of " Our Lady" at the top, and four life-size figures at the base. It was recently erected, ostensibly in honor of the Immacu- late Conception, but really in compliment to His Holiness, who it was hoped would show some mercy to the poor suffer- ers in the Foligno dungeons. I trembled for the beautiful ornament, as I saw a horse, running away with a carriage, dash furiously through the piazza ; but it was not touched, though the fragments of the shattered vehicle were strewn plentifully around it. Afterward, walking alone in the street, I saw a Jew sell- ing a piece of cloth to an Italian, when a third person, in apparent playfulness, threw the end of the article over the merchant's face ; and the latter instantly drew a knife, and rushed upon him, and he must inevitably have been stabbed, had he not dexterously sprung out of his way, and made good use of his sole-leather. In 1831 and 1882, and again in 1889, Foligno experienced several earthquakes, which did much damage, destroying PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 405 many buildings, and about a hundred human lives. It is somewhat remarkable that a city located upon an alluvial plain should have suffered so severely from these phenomena, while the towns which occupy the lower slopes of the neigh- boring mountains received little or no injury. Three miles from Foligno is Spello, full of Roman anti- quities, and the fame of Orlando. In the wall, near an ancient gate, is a monumental inscription, celebrating the exploits of that worthy personage. Orlando is the Italian Hercules of the middle ages. They have multiplied the legends of his labors, as the Greeks did those of the ancient hero ; and Ariosto only brilliantly embodied those different traditions handed down in songs and tales for more than six hundred years. We paused an hour by the way to take a view of the fine church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. It was here that Saint Francis founded his monastic order; and in the centre of the spacious edifice is a small house, built of rough stone, in which they say he lived and practiced the severe rules which he laid down for the fraternity. It is now occupied as a chapel ; and while we were there, several monks were performing some religious service in it. On its front is a remarkable fresco by Overbeck, regarded as the chef cV oeuvre of that popular artist, representing .the vision or ecstasy of the saint. On a hill, two miles from the church, stands Assisi, the ancient Assisium, where Saint Francis was born, where his dust is now enshrined in an elegant mausoleum ; and a whole museum of his relics is sacredly preserved in the monastery of St. Clare. The convent, which stands upon a lofty rock, and with its massive walls and towers looks like an immense fortress, is said to have been built in the incredibly short space of two years. Assisi is the native town also of two elegant Italian poets — Propertius and Metastasio. Its anti- 406 A YEAR IN EUROPE. quities are a Roman theatre, a temple of Minerva, and numerous fragmentary substructions and walls. Saint Francis lived in a time when Italian society was exceedingly corrupt, and the spirit of true Christianity was almost unknown among the religious orders. He was but twenty-five when he set himself resolutely to stem the tide of the prevalent depravity. His family regarded him as mad ; and the cell is still shown at Assisi where he is said to have been confined by his father, and afterward mercifully liberated by his mother. The result shows him to have been a man of earnest and mighty spirit. There was something very impressive in the austerity of his life and the pro- fusion of his alms. Men of distinction, and ladies of fashion, soon flocked to his standard. Young enthusiasts, and rich and beautiful maidens, adopted his principles and espoused his cause. The lower classes found, in the order which he instituted, a sort of emancipation and security ; and were glad to escape serfdom by becoming monks. Thus the fraternity grew and flourished ; and now, after the lapse of more than six hundred years, constitutes a rich and powerful body in the Roman Catholic Church. But such is the influence of human depravity, that every thing good on earth naturally tends to degeneration ; and it is not wonder- ful that such a community, with errors so many and so great incorporated in its very constitution, though originating in love to Grod and man, should soon change for the worse in manners and moral discipline. The corruption of the Fran- ciscans is represented by Italian writers of the sixteenth cen- tury as a matter of common notoriety. Machiavelli, Castig- lione, and Ariosto, accuse them of the greatest cruelty and the most enormous crimes ; and Dante and Tasso, while they laud their leader to the skies, satirize severely the vices of his followers. A few miles farther on wc crossed the Tiber, for the third FROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 407 time during our journey, and probably the last for ever. We were now once more in Etruria, and soon came to the most remarkable Etruscan sepulchre hitherto discovered — the Grotta dei Volumni. By a long flight of steps, cut in the soft tufa, we descended to the door. The original — a block of travertine, six feet high, four feet broad, and eight inches thick — stands leaning against the wall of the passage, while its place is supplied with an iron one of modern construc- tion. Our cicerone lighted a taper, and led us into the solemn chambers of the dead. There is one large apart- ment, twenty-four feet by twelve in area, and sixteen in height, around which are nine others of smaller size, all hewn out of the living rock. The roof is cut into the form of beams and rafters; and heads of Medusa, with serpents and other curious devices, are carved upon the walls. There are several pendant lamps, and a mock genius swinging from the roof by a thread of bronze. The cinerary urns, or ves- sels containing the ashes of the dead, are all in one room. There are seven of these, all of elaborate workmanship — six of travertine, and one of marble. The latter is in the form of a temple, and has an inscription in Latin upon its front, and in Etruscan across the roof; which, when discovered, furnished the key to the language of ancient Etruria. These things were placed here, precisely as we now find them, two thousand years ago ; but the more valuable articles — orna- ments of bronze, and jewels of massive gold — were removed long ago to the neighboring villa. There are scores of other tombs in the neighborhood of this, much in the same condi- tion ; and maoy hundreds, probably, which have never yet beeu opened, all belonging to the necropolis of an ancient and powerful city. Think not lightly of the race that excavated these dark sepulchral chambers. Their national glory culminated long- before Rome was founded. From them the Mistress of the 408 A YEAR IN EUROPE. World took lessons in painting and in architecture. One of their kings — Porsenna — humbled her upon her seven hills. The substructions of their citadels and temples which she destroyed have outlasted many of her own, erected a thou- sand years later. Thrust your hand in where that ponderous stone lid has been lifted, and you shall touch the ashes of departed chiefs and rulers. This Etruria had twelve king- doms, with twelve capital cities, and twelve mighty kings; and every capital had its subordinate municipalities, with its senate and its army. But what nation could endure that worshipped idols, and consulted the oracles of devils ? Egypt and Assyria had done so, and they had perished. So perished Etruria ; and nothing remains of her now but these, tombs, and the massive fragments of her masonry, scattered over the Italian hills. On an eminence, a thousand feet above, stands Perugia, the representative of the ancient Parousia. The buildings rise tier above tier, like a gigantic stairway in the rock ; and a stout yoke of white oxen is again added to our four horses to draw us up to the city gate. We spent four pleasant hours in looking about, but as many days were scarcely enough for all the interesting objects here to be seen. There are more than a hundred churches, and thirty monastic and conventual institutions. The cathedral is a grand old Gothic structure, with gorgeous stained windows, containing two famous works of art — Perugina's Madonna, and Baroccio's Deposition from the Cross. The frescoes of the Exchange, and the heraldic decorations of the Municipal Palace, are objects of curious interest. The most remarkable thing, however, is the old Etruscan gate, with its massive tiers of uncemented travertine, forty or fifty feet high, standing as it stood twenty centuries ago, left unscathed by the conflagra- tion which in the reign of Augustus destroyed the city. In the fourteenth century a hundred thousand people perished PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 409 here by the plague. The present population is not more than fifteen thousand. But the place is rich in architecture, and in works of the belli arti; and its university, next to those of Home and Bologna, is deemed the best in the Papal States. The view which we enjoyed from the site of the fallen citadel no language can describe — the valleys of the Tiber and the Clitumnus spreading out in living emerald before us, the mountains on either hand studded with shining towns and villages, and the snowy masses of the Abruzzi gleaming from afar like an immense city of amethyst and opal ! We spent our fourth night at a miserable little town on the margin of Lake Thrasymenus, a memorable place in the annals of Roman warfare. The next morning we pursued our way over the field where Hannibal won his great victory over the Consul Flaminius. It is a level area of several miles, lying along the shore, and shut in by a semicircular range of precipitous hills in the rear, the extremities of which form two bold promontories at the edge of the lake. From the moment the Roman legions entered the pass, the wily Carthaginian had the game fairly in his own hand. How the consul was ever beguiled into such a snare is the marvel. Whoever will but look over the ground will be ready to vote him a madman. The Sanguinetta, which rolls through the plain, perpetuates in its name the memory of the disaster; the "Tower of Hannibal" still looks down triumphant from its eminence upon the field of slaughter; and blood-red poppies, blooming amid the luxuriant wheat, have sprung up from the graves of the slain. We now crossed the papal frontier, and left behind us much that is undesirable. Henceforward we saw a more thriving and cheerful population, and heard less of To fammi, and Date mi qualche cosa. But the beauty and fertility of the country through which we now journeyed it is quite im- possible to describe — the delightful alternation of hill and 18 410 A YEAR IN EUROPE. vale, towering mountains and far-spreading vineyards, the infinite profusion of wild flowers which loaded the air with fragrance, with fields of grain such as I never saw before, and scarcely expect ever to see again, all bathed in the delicious gold and purple of an Italian atmosphere ! Passing Cortona — a city anterior, it is said, to Troy — we glided along the sweet-blossoming vale of the Chiana, and soon reached Arezzo, the birthplace of illustrious men, where we beheld the house of Petrarch, a statue of the Grand Duke Ferdinand the First, and the tomb of the famous fighting Bishop of Petramala. In a wild mountain pass, a little farther on, we saw by the wayside a huge black cross, marking the spot where, not long ago, the diligence had been stopped by banditti, and the driver and passen- gers literally cut to pieces. That night we lodged at Le Vane, and the next day about noon looked down from the hills upon the fair capital of the middle ages, reposing in a paradise of verdure upon the banks of the meandering Arno. THE CITY OF FLOWERS. 411 CHAPTER XXXI. THE CITY OF FLOWERS. THE BEAUTY OF FLORENCE COMPARISON WITH ROME CATHEDRAL AND CAMPANILE OTHER INTERESTING OBJECTS AND LOCALITIES POETRY HIRAM POWER FINE ARTS RAPE OF THE SABINES UFFIZI GALLERY MICHAEL ANGELO PITTI PALACE THE FLYING ASS AGRICULTURAL FAIR BLASPHEMY OF ART. The vines, the flowers, the air, the skies, that fling Such wild enchantment o'er Boccaccio's tales Of Florence and the Arno. Halleck. What a beautiful city ! What a beautiful country sur- rounds it ! How different from Rome ! so bright and cheer- ful, so clean and comfortable, and comparatively free from beggars. The Arno reminds one of the Tiber — albeit not so deep, nor so wide, nor so strong, nor so rapid, nor so golden, nor so rich in heroic fame. Yet it is a pretty river, bordered on both sides by fine buildings, and spanned by three stone bridges, two of which are elegant, and the other picturesque, with a good suspension-bridge at each extremity of the town. Florence is rather neatly built, and has some very massive and imposing structures, of which the lower stories, & V Etrusque, are anomalous in modern architecture. Rome has more palaces, but none equal to the Pitti ; and 412 A YEAR IN EUROPE. more campaniles, but none so gorgeous as Giotto's marble tower, or so graceful as the octagonal steeple of the Badia, or so lofty as the machicolated belfry of the Palazzo Vecchio. If, from the top of the Capitol, or the dome of St. Peter's, you look down upon the environs of Rome, three miles beyond the walls you see nothing but a dreary waste sown with the ruUis of antiquity ; but the picturesque hills which surround Firenza la bella are covered with villas, mansions, churches, and convents, embowered in living bloom ; and in every direction, as far as the sight can reach, the country seems a continuous city, with gardens inter- spersed among its palaces. The exterior of the cathedral, built of black and white marble, is perfectly magnificent. The dome which sur- mounts it is larger and taller than that of St. Peter's, but not elevated near so far from the pavement. Michael Angelo made it his model when he planned that majestic structure; and marked out the place for his tomb in the Church of Santa Croce, in full view of its magnificent pro- portions. Brunnelleschi, the builder, sits in a niche across the way, looking up at his work in the most natural manner, with an expression of intense pleasure upon his noble coun- tenance. Near this statue is a marble slab let into the wall, indicating the spot where Dante used to sit at sunsetting, and gaze upon the glorious campanile, and listen to its incomparable chimes. Bells like these I never heard before. The voice of the largest, full of majesty, is soft as a lady's lute. Hark ! it announces the Ave Maria; and now the chimes of a dozen churches, like angel harmonies, are call- ing the populace to prayer. The tower itself is the finest thing in the world ; one can never be weary of looking at it ; and the Florentines, when they wish to describe any thing as particularly beautiful, say, "As beautiful as the Campanile." The bronze doors of the baptistery, which THE CITY OF FLOWERS. 413 Michael Angelo deemed fit to be the gates of Paradise, are not unworthy of their fame. The Medicean chapel, at the Church of San Lorenzo, encrusted with jasper, and granite, and lapis-lazuli, is as gorgeous as human art can make it; and the frescoes of its incomparable cupola are the finest things in Florence. The Church of Santa Croce is the Tuscan "Westminster Abbey, containing the mausoleums of Michael Angelo, Machiavelli, Galileo, and many other men of genius, with the cenotaph of Dante, where his tomb should have been. The pretty Ponte Vecchio, lined on both sides with shops of jewelry, has quite an Oriental aspect; and those golden chains seem to bind the feet of many a passenger. The Boboli Gardens, with their arbors of laurel, and arches of ilex, and colonnades of cypress, their pools, and fountains, and grottoes, and green terraces, and groups of statuary, are superior to the Pincio; and the Cacine, with its lawns, and meadows, and hedges of shrub- bery, and groves of ivy-mantled elms, and shady walks and drives along the pleasant Arno, frequented by the beau monde of Florence, and charmed with the songs of nightin- gales, is more beautiful, because less artificial, than the grounds of the Borghese or the Pamfilidoria. Here is a sketch for you ; I name not its author : What is yon the stranger sees, Peeping through the silken trees — Glittering bands of red and white, Peaks and masses rainbow-dight ? Stranger, 'tis a city rare — Tuscan Florence, passing fair. What is yon, with melting hue — Now 'tis lilac, now 'tis blue — Sharp the crest its outline heaves, Just behind the cottage eaves ? Stranger, 'tis the mountain's line — 'Tis the purple Apennine. 414 A YEAR IN EUROPE. What is yon comes dipping, dancing, Sparkling, flashing, sweeping, glancing, Whispering through the osier bush, Eddying round the tufted rush ? Stranger, 'tis the Tuscan pride — His dear Arno's silver tide. Pictures and statues are things to look at, not to write about ; yet I should be set down for a blockhead and a Van- dal were I to pass the Belle Arti of Florence unmentioned. Who knows not that in this fairest of Italian cities lives and toils our fellow-countryman, Hiram Power, glorifying by his genius his own name and his native land ? I have been several times in his studio, and spent an evening with the artist and his family at the house of a mutual friend. He is a very agreeable man, full of thought, and free of tongue ; always amusing you with his humor, but never offending you with his egotism. His Greek Slave, which has en- chanted the world, is surpassed I think by his America and his California. The former ought to be in the Capitol at Washington, for which it was intended ; but still stands in the sculptor's room, because the noble creature is trampling on a chain ! A finer expression of the American spirit of freedom and scorn of tyranny could scarcely be conceived than that Mr. Power has here furnished to the world. Let the America come home ! Florence has some of the finest things in existence; and enough of the mediocre, the indifferent, and the intolerable, to bewilder one's brains for a twelvemonth. The Grand Duke throws open the Pitti collection with commendable liberality, though, no doubt, he has his reward in the revenue thus reaped from the forestieri. The Uffizi halls are seldom closed except on feast-days, and the Academia is as free as a bazaar. The great Piazza, with its adjacent Logia. contains some admirable statuary. Ammanato's THE CITY OF FLOWERS. 415 Neptune and horses are full of majesty and power. Michael Angelo's David is a noble creation; but our party voted unanimously to christen him Saul. Benvenuto Cellini's Perseus is the most remarkable bronze I ever saw — a glorious compensation for the fever which it cost him, and the plate sacrificed in the casting. Bandinelli's Hercules has some- thing of the disdainful haughtiness which characterized its author ; and this best production of the envious depredator of Michael Angelo and avowed enemy of Benvenuto Cel- lini stands between the David and the Perseus. There is a group here by John of Bologna — a young man bearing off a young womau in his arms, with an old man struggling beneath his feet — which has a very curious his- tory. The story is, that when it was finished, the artist called together his friends to tell him what he should call it; and after some deliberation and discussion, they agreed to name it " The Rape of the Sabines." Its appearance pro- duced a wonderful sensation throughout Italy. An amateur at Rome, hearing of it, came all the way to Florence on horseback to see it. On his arrival he rode straight to the Logia, surveyed the group for a moment, exclaimed, " Is that the thing they make so much noise about V and then, without dismounting, turned his horse, and rode back to Rome. This production continues still to be the pet of Florence. Francis says justly, " It has great merits, no doubt, but modesty is not one of them." Valery thinks " it is in reality little more than an ale-house scene — a soldier knocking down the husband, and then running away with his wife." There are some excellent pictures in the TJfSzi Palace, and an extensive collection of statuary. The Hall of Niobe is full of touching interest — a noble expression of maternal love and sorrow. The Dancing Fawn exhibits active motion with exquisite balance. The Wrestlers look as if they might 416 A TEAR IN EUROPE. edge along the floor and roll over the visitor. The charm of the Venus de Medicis is the incomparable attitude, com- bining the greatest modesty and dignity. Andrea del Sar- to's Madonna perhaps has never been surpassed. The two Madonnas of Raphael also are full of inspiration. The works of Titian abound here ; but, as a sensible Scotchman says, " the originals ought to be veiled, and the copies burned !" Florence is full of the productions of Michael Angelo. He is always " grand, gloomy, and peculiar;" and ; with greater propriety than Napoleon, may be called, " the man without a model, and without a shadow." He excels. in the monstrous and the terrible, is frequently more original than natural, and has but little in common with the ancient masters. His chisel reminds one of the pen of iEschylus, or the brush of Salvator Rosa. In tenderness he is far inferior to Canova — farther perhaps than Canova to the Greeks. By the way, how many things Michael Angelo left unfinished ! Here are dozens in Florence, abandoned in the various stages of their execution. Having discovered the figure in the formless block, he labored with the utmost impetuosity to reach it, lopping off huge masses with his chisel, and struggling fiercely against the stubborn stone ; but before he had fully brought his grand ideal to light, some fairer vision dawned upon his fancy ; and hastening to execute the latest prompting of his genius, he was always running away from one angel after another. The Pitti Palace contains more than five hundred large paintings, besides innumerable smaller ones. Here are the incomparable creations of Raphael, Ruysdale, Canova, Claude Loraine, and Salvator Rosa. Of Raphael's " Seggiola," originally painted on the head of a cask for the want of a better canvas, perhaps ten thousand copies have been taken. Canova's Venus occupied the pedestal of the Athenian beauty after the latter was carried captive to the Louvre, and THE CITY OP FLOWERS. 417 was on that account surnanied by the Florentines, "La Con- solatrice." The Pitti Palace is the residence of the Grand Duke. While looking at his vast collection of gojd and silver plate, I could not help wishing it were all coined into piastres, and I had the disposing of it. It would feed all Tuscany for a twelvemonth. The tables of Florentine mosaic, of which I saw eighteen or twenty, if sold for their real value, would furnish the whole city with bread for many years. One of these, composed entirely of precious stones, is worth two hundred thousand dollars ! No wonder Tuscany is rife with revolution. The Museum of Natural History is a world of beauty. We lingered long to gaze at the line statue of Galileo, with his quaint old astronomical instruments arranged around him, the preserved right fore-finger, with which he pointed a thousand times to the stars, and many other relics of the heroic philosopher. The Grand Duke, and his fine-looking wife, with all the royal family of sixteen, and the entire cortege of the palace, were a far less interesting sight than the carpet of flowers, two hundred feet long, and sixty feet wide, over which the gorgeous procession passed on the feast of Corjjus Domini. About the most impressive ceremony of this great Chris- tian festival, after all, is that of " the Flying Ass." Of this sublime solemnity I should have known nothing, but for the kind offices of an American and an English friend, who called to invite me to accompany them. The ass, with large gilt wings attached to his shoulders, was taken to the top of a lofty campanile, whence he slid down a rope extend- ing far into the broad piazza below. The holy a,nimal brayed in a manner very edifying to the faithful just as he started earthward — a tolerable imitation of what I heard the same day in the cathedral ! 18* 418 A YEAR IN EUROPE.' The Agricultural Fair, recently held at the Cacine, was a very interesting spectacle to a foreigner : albeit, the straight- handled scythes, the wooden pitchforks, the ponderous hay- rakes, and various labor-saving machines on exhibition, would have furnished no small amusement to an American or English farmer; but the floral display, for variety, deli- cacy, and gorgeousness, surpassed all I ever dreamed of the beautiful productions of our fallen planet. The horses were decidedly mean, the mules far inferior to those of Kentucky and Tennessee ; but 0, John Bull, what a sight for a British beef-eater, what a theme for a Latin bard, were those- white and dove-colored cows and oxen — so gigantic, yet so ele- gantly formed ! Such was the ancient breed of the classical Clitumnus. The Tuscan cattle are all white or dove-colored, and if others are introduced from abroad, they soon learn to conform to the popular livery — an instructive sermon for heretics, and an edifying lecture for American ministers abroad ! I cannot help saying a few words concerning the blas- phemy of art in Italy. In Rome, Naples, Florence, and everywhere, the Protestant tourist is continually shocked by the representations on canvas of the Son of Grod, and even of the Eternal Father, and the Holy Spirit, which obtrude themselves upon his sight in the churches and galleries. No pictures are more common ; yet the artists themselves ac- knowledge that the subjects infinitely transcend their skill of execution, and all human conception. Is it not blas- phemy to touch them ? And what does the Romish Church with the second commandment, while she is thus decorating her places of worship ? True, " the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory;" but it was "the glory as of the Only-Begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." Who shall think to portray its attributes? What rapture of THE CITY OP FLOWERS. 419 artistic inspiration shall match the celestial beauty of that " human face divine ?" Christ was not without feeling ; but he was above passion. Joy and sorrow could reach his soul, for he was man ; but they could not cloud his serenity, for he was God. Benevolence, which brought him from the throne to the manger, and led him from the manger to the cross, was his prevailing sentiment, and must have shed over all his features a perpetual expression of unparalleled benig- nity and love. To obey the laws of nature, or to suspend or reverse them, was to him equally easy; a miracle cost him no effort, and produced in him no surprise. To submit or command, to suffer or triumph, to live or die, were alike welcome in their turns, as the result of reason and of mercy. To do the will of his Father was the object of his mission ; and every step that led to its accomplishment, easy or ardu- ous, was to him the same. What painter shall presume to trace the semblance of such a character ? What hand has hitherto reached the conception of the mind that guided it, or what mind has conceived a worthy idea of the majestic beauty of the Son of God ? Every attempt must be an infinite failure. True, the Divine Infants of Raphael, Titian, and Carlo Dolce are often of exquisite beauty ; and some of the last especially have I seen that seemed beings of really a superior nature, enjoying at once the innocence and the bloom of paradise; and the Saviour in Leonardo de Vinci's Last Supper is a wonderful figure, every feature of whose super-seraphic face speaks compassion and love. But it must be remembered that these were not the only attributes of that sacred personage : justioe and holiness sat serenely on his brow, and beamed through all his looks, casting an awful majesty as a veil about him; and these grand qualities of the Godhead are sought for in vain in all the artistic repre- sentations I have yet seen of the world's Redeemer and Judge. Two or three have I looked upon of a nobler and 420 A YEAR IN EUROPE. happier touch : a Christ disputing with the doctors in the temple, where the youthful face seems actually radiant with the Divine Reason ; a Christ raising the widow's son at the gate of Nain, where unspeakable compassion seems blended with illimitable power; and a picture of the Crucifixion, in which the unknown anguish of the sufferer is lit up with the sublime satisfaction of having achieved the world's redemp- tion. But these, and a few others, are exceptions. On very few of the pictures of Christ can the eye rest with any degree of pleasure. Even Michael Angelo, in his great painting of the Last Judgment, in the Sistine Chapel, has given the Judge the aspect of an irritated and vindictive monarch, more worthy of Homer's Jupiter than of the Christian's "Judge of quick and dead." But if such representations of "the man Christ Jesus" are necessarily failures, what shall we say of the frequent attempts to portray the Divine Essence itself, the grand archetype of all beauty and perfection ? True, the Prophet Daniel speaks of beholding the Ancient of days in a visible form, and traces an obscure sketch of the Eternal; but he was guided by Inspiration Divine, to which none of our painters can pretend ; and even then, he attempts not to portray the features of God, and only one circumstance of his person is mentioned. He ventures no farther than the hair, the garments, the burning throne, the ministering host, and multitudes waiting their doom; but leaves the form and face of the Eternal to the imagination — rather the religious terror — of the reader. Artists should imitate his reverence, and refrain from all endeavors to embody the Infinite Mind in a human figure. I do not see, indeed, how any one with proper views of the Divine Majesty can venture on such an effort, or gaze with pleasure upon its result. Yet God is thus insulted and dishonored in almost every church of Italy ; and the original of all that is lovely or glorious in THE CITY OP FLOWERS. 421 the universe is represented with the aspect of human decre- pitude and decay. In Raphael's picture of the Creation, in one of the galleries of the Vatican, the Eternal Father is painted with hands and feet expanded, darting into chaos, and reducing the distracted elements to order by mere physi- cal motion. This might do for the pagan Jove ; but it will not do for the Christian Grod. It is unworthy of the artist's lofty genius. How different the representations of inspired Scripture : " He spake, and they were made ; he commanded, and they were created I" 422 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER XXXJI. HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. ENVIRONS OF FLORENCE — PISA GRANrJ* ILLUMINATION PAST AND PRESENT LEGHORN PRATOLINA SUMMIT OF THE APENNINES COVIGLIAJO MINIATURE VOLCANO POVERI INFELICE HARVEST WAGES MOUNTAIN SCENERY — BOLOGNA FERRARA — PADUA VENICE AGAIN THE PETER MARTYR FINE CHURCHES SOLEMN STILLNESS OF THE CITY ACROSS LOMBARDY THE PICTURESQUE FAREWELL TO ITALY THE ALPS THE TETE NOIRE — MAGNIFICENT IRIS FROM MONT BLANC TO LONDON. I saw the Alps, the everlasting hills, A mighty chain, that stretched their awful forms, To catch the glories of the morning sun, - -»--» And cast their shadows o'er the realms of noon. Dr. Raffles. I shall not detain thee, impatient reader, with a descrip- tion of Fiesole the ancient ; like a royal mother looking down from her mountain throne upon the princely daughter — Firenze la bella — at her feet. I shall say nothing of her Cyclopean wall, some ages older than the earliest substruc- tions of Rome ; nor mention the remains of her arx and her amphitheatre ; nor sketch the fair prospect toward Valam- hrosa and the Camaldoli — toward Pisa, and Livorno, and the Mediterranean coast; nor tell thee how the City of Flowers, itself a flower of wondrous beauty, opens from its calix before the enchanted gazer : the Duomo and the HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 423 Campanile in the centre, with the beautiful octagonal steeple of the Badia, and the lofty belfry of the Palazzo Vecchio, with the surrounding spires and towers, forming a cluster to which there is nothing comparable in Europe, shooting forth like the stamens and pistils ; while the sub- urban villas and villages, environed with fragrant vineyards and variegated gardens, and churches and convents cluster- ing on every little hill, are like a vast corolla, spreading its gorgeous circumference, petal upon petal, for many miles around. Pardon this Oriental picture : the idea is borrowed ; and the simile falls immeasurably short of the incomparable love- liness which it aims to describe. Charles the Fifth thought Florence was too beautiful to be seen except on holidays; and Ariosto says, if all the fine villas which are scattered, as if the soil produced them spontaneously, over the surround- ing eminences, were gathered within the wall, two Romes could not vie with her in beauty. Nor have I much to tell thee of the Villa Mozzi, the retreat of Catiline the conspirator, where his buried jars of Roman coin were recently discovered; the residence of Lorenzo Magnifico, where he sat sublime in his lofty balcony, amid the encircling Apennines, with his feet dangling over Florence. Nor shall I keep thee long at San Miniato, with its romantic story of the conversion of Giovanni Gualbcrto, and its outlook upon the fairest of cities and the loveliest of valleys, " down which the yellow Arno, through its long reaches, steals silently to the sea." Nor can I do more than point thee to the Torre del Gallo, where " the starry Gali- leo" read the open book of heaven ; and the villa in which he dwelt on the Bellosgtiardo, where he communed with Milton, and whence at length his spirit returned to God. To-morrow — the sixteenth of June — is the grand quad- rennial festival at Pisa, in honor of its patron, San Ranieri ; 424 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and we must not miss the brilliant Laminara, the most splendid spectacle of the kind in the world. Two hours by railway, and we are there. It is not yet noon, but the city is swarming with people. A little refreshment, and away to see the superb Duomo, the incomparable Baptistery, the terri- fic beauty of the inclining Campanile, and the Campo Santo, with its monuments and inscriptions, its numerous statues and frescoes, and its sixteen feet of holy earth, brought from Mount Calvary, and perchance crimsoned with the blood of our redemption. It is evening. Throughout the day, up and down the Lungarno, on both sides of the river, extensive preparations for the illumination have been going forward, at a cost of. over a hundred thousand dollars ; and now the lamps are lighted, and the front of every building is ablaze from base to battlement, and the temporary structures which have been reared in every part of the city kindle gradually into castles and temples and palaces of fire in every fantastic form ; and arches of fire spring over the Arno; and festoons of fire run along its bridges ; and gondolas of fire glide to and fro upon its waters ; and crosses of fire seem suspended here and there against the ebon sky ; and every street is an avenue of fire, and every dome is a hemisphere of fire, and every campanile a column of fire, and the great leaning tower a vision' of beauty never to be forgotten. I had seen the illumination of Saint Peter's, and the grand pyrotechnic display from the Pincio j but these were nothing to what I here beheld. It was more beautiful than any dream. It looked as if heaven had rained all its stars upon the city, and made me think of the New Jerusalem which shall one day come down from God! "A glowing picture, my friend !" 0, would that thou hadst been there, appreciating reader, to behold with me the far more brilliant original ! HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 425 Pisa was once a proud and prosperous city, flourishing in arts and arms and literature, with a university second only to that of Padua. But her wealth has made to itself wings, and the prestige of her name is gone. We saw Austrian soldiers, at the railway station, riding through the throng to keep them in order ; and an inoffensive courier, who was en- deavoring to procure hilletti for his party, had his beaver cloven through from top to bottom with the sword, and nar- rowly escaped with his skull. But all this, and much more, with our own perilous adven- tures in the melange, and the midnight trip to Leghorn, and the morning walk to Smollet's tomb, and the subsequent return to Pisa and to Florence, are they not all written in " Reflected Fragments ?" And now, by vettura, with our genial friends, the Olmsteds, on our way to Bologna, we are climbing the piney Apennines. Soon we pass Pratolina, whose beauty, with that of its fair enchantress, Bianca Capella, is melodiously sung by Tasso. And here is the picturesque convent of Monte JSenarto, en- vironed with beautiful groves of cypress and cedar and laurel. Then we reached the loftiest point in the route, an altitude of more than three thousand feet, where the road traverses for some distance a narrow ridge, with a steep descent into a deep glen on either side, and a fine view of the mountains in every direction, the blue line of the Adriatic on the eastern horizon, and the vast plain of Lombardy to the north, bounded by the dim wall of the Alps. "We found our first night's lodging at Covigliajo, a soli- tary inn, picturesquely seated on the side of Monte Bene. This Monte Bene is a jagged mass of serpentine, thrust up through the shattered superincumbent strata. The stone is exceedingly beautiful, and full of large and lustrous crys- tals. We wandered far up the acclivity, plucking flowers, of which we found fifty-seven varieties in an hour's walk ; and 426 A YEAR IN EUROPE. then descended into the sweetest of valleys, charmed by the call of the cuckoo and the song of the rosignuolo from the fragrant copses. This inn is much better provided than for- merly with conveniences for the travelling public, through a benevolent freak of the Czarina of Russia; who, purposing to spend a night there, and aware of the wretchedness of the place, brought with her from Florence every thing necessary for her comfort, even to carpets, tables, and tea-service ; all of which, on the morrow, as she departed, she bequeathed to the host. We knew not then, or I fear we should not have slept so quietly, that this was the very establishment of which Forsyth tells so horrible a tale. Travellers arrived, departed, disappeared, and were never heard of more. What became of them could not be discovered. Officers were sent to search the mountains for banditti. But the real mis- creants were for a long time unsuspected : the padrona, the cameriere, and the curate of a neighboring village. They secretly murdered every traveller that had money, jewels, or other valuables; and burned his clothes, carriage, or what- ever else might lead to their detection. Detected at length they were, however, and their punishment was as prompt and terrible as it was just. As we departed the next morning, we passed a miniature volcano, an emission of carburetted hydrogen gas from the side of the mountain burning perpetually, with a bluish flame by day, and a brilliant red by night. Having paid liberally for our entertainment, and knowing that we were soon to cross the papal frontier, we pocketed the remnants of our collazione for the poveri infelice we might chance to meet with on our way. In a very short time we reentered the dominions of His Holiness, and immediately saw and felt the difference. The people flocked out of the villages to meet us, and awaited our approach at the ascent of every hill. One poor creature followed us a long distance, HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 427 crying, " Do, dear ladies, give me a little money ! Excel- lent and illustrious gentlemen, do have compassion upon my . poverty I" And then she promised to say a whole string of beads for every one of us, and invoked for us the blessing of all the saints, and the company of all the good angels, in our journey. And when we gave her nothing, she renewed her entreaty, conjuring us by the name of the Virgin and her Blessed Son, by the love of God and the holy sacrament, till sundry small coin stopped her importunity. I counted thir- teen children at once, running along by the vettura, all clamoring for piccola moneta. We gave them bread, and cheese, and chicken, and boiled eggs, which they devoured with great avidity. These poor people live chiefly on chest- nuts, which they grind, and bake into bread; and the seed of the stone-pine, which is by no means so despicable a diet as one might imagine, especially with the addition of a little polenta. A woman, who was on her way to the harvest-field, told us that she labored all day, at making hay or cutting wheat, for cinque bajocchi — five cents, or a pound and a half of bread. But what do you do, said I, when there is no hay to make or wheat to cut ? " We plait straw for bonnets," was her reply. And do you never get any better wages ? " Never any better." Have you a family to support ? " No husband, but four children." And do you find it easy to feed four children on five bajocchi a day? "Ah, Signore" — with a mournful shake of the head — " it is very hard for us down here ; but up there" — pointing to the sky — " we shall be in glory." Why do you hope so ? " I ask Maria Santissima to speak to her Son for me." Alas for the Italian poor ! for words to describe the scenery of the Apennines ! There is no end to its variety : now bleak, and bare, and rugged as Vesuvius ; then softly beautiful, or wildly luxu- riant, beyond all power of language to express. Here the 428 A YEAR IN EUROPE. road winds among crags and precipices, crowned with dis- mantled fortresses and ruined castles, skirted with dark pine forests, and opening into gulfs of Tartarean gloom ; and anon . come such glimpses of paradise, such sunny vales, and vine- clad hills, and flowery pastures, and fields of golden grain, with villas peeping out through their avenues of ilex, and con- vents overlooking their hedges of laurel and cedar ! It grew more and still more lovely, as we descended into the valley of Savena ; the land everywhere cultivated like a garden; the silver foliage of the olive-groves contrasting beautifully with the luxuriant fields of wheat ; long lines of mulberry, with an interminable traillage of vines flung from tree to tree; hamlets, and villas, and churches, and monasteries,, multiplying along our way, till the country became almost a continuous city. Another night, and then the slender campaniles of Bologna broke upon our view — Bologna, famous for its leaning towers, its arcaded streets, its university, and its sausages. We spent three days here ; and saw our old friend Pio Nono, who had come to bless his children, and be publicly crowned in the cathedral ; but all the previous night, as our Italian courier informed us, his children were cursing him in undertones through the city, because he had granted no manumission to their friends, who had lain nine years untried in their dungeons. Still northward, over the plains of Lombardy. A night at Ferrara, a walk through its grass-grown streets, and a visit to "II Prigione di Torquato Tasso." The dreary cell in which the poet languished seven years and one month is not more than ten feet square. Byron, Rogers, Dickens, and many others, have scratched their names upon the wall. These three needed no connection with Tasso to give them immortality. In the centre of this dilapidated and half- ruined city stands an ugly brick fortress, misnamed a palace, HTJRRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 429 surrounded by a broad fosse, with draw-bridges. Here Al- phonso feasted, while poor Tasso pined in his dungeon. "But time at length brings all things even," and amply has posterity avenged the poet of his persecutor. The next night we lodged at Padua — the ancient, the learned, the sombre — founded, it is said, by Trojan Antenor, wbose remains — smile not thus bitterly, incredulous reader — were exhumed in the thirteenth century > and can still be seen for a few grazie in the church of San Lorenzo. And here is the church of Santf Antonio, crowned with eight cupolas, besides minarets and campaniles — a gorgeous Oriental structure. And here is the university, formerly the first in Italy ; where the great Baldus taught " The Written Reason ;" and where the beautiful maiden, Helena Lucrezia Carnaro Piscopia, Doctor of Philosophy, learned in many languages, wearing the Benedictine habit, lectured on theology, astro- nomy, and mathematics, and sang her own verses to her own music. Hence to Venice is only twenty-seven miles ) and the next morning its domes and towers and palaces, all gilded by the sun, rise glittering before us, like a gorgeous exhalation from the bosom of the sea. I pray thee, charitable reader, deem not mogliama totally dementate, when I tell thee, as thou shalt also learn in her "Reflected Fragments," that the sole motive of this second visit to Venice was the gratifica- tion of her desire to see Titian's Pietro Martire, which she had missed when we were here before. We spent two days, and saw the picture, and agreed with Mrs. Jameson, that it is "one of the most magical in the world" — "its terrific horrors redeemed by its sublimity." It is in the church of San Giovanni e Paolo, where the Doges are buried, and where we saw also a charming series of bas-reliefs in white marble. Again we strolled through tbe grand old Palazzo 430 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Ducale, and among the four hundred columns of San Marco. We visited many other churches, rich in paintings, statuary, many-colored marble, and all the luxuries of architectural magnificence. It is amazing to see with what prodigality the most splendid and costly materials arc lavished upon these buildings — columns of Egyptian porphyry; altars of Oriental alabaster; pulpits of verd-antique and pavanazzetto ; shrines and tombs of snowy marble, glittering with gems and gold ; walls and ceilings encrusted with agate and jasper, inlaid with lapis-lazuli ; and pavements of elegant mosaic work, elaborately disposed in the most curious patterns; Solemn and strange is the silence of this great city. No rumbling of carriages shakes the buildings ; no tramp of . horses echoes along the streets. You hear only the hum of human voices, the melancholy cry of the gondolier, and the measured dip of his oar, with the sighing of the watei"s along the basements of lofty palaces, the soft chiming of bells at the hour of Ave Maria, or a band of music by moonlight upon the Grand Canal. When we took our departure, we were prepared, I think, to appreciate the old Italian pro- verb : Venezia, Venezia! Chi non ti vede, non ti prezia ; Ma chi t'ha troppo veduto, Ti disprezia. Literally : Venice, Venice ! He that doth not see thee doth not prize thee ; But he that hath too much seen thee, Doth despise thee. And now for the Alps: repassing scholastic Padua; then Vicenza, the native city of Palladio ; and Verona, with its serrated walls, and slender towers, and antique amphi- theatre ; and the lovely Lago di Garda, with towns and IIURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 431 villages smiling along its margin ; and Brescia, of which I know nothing; and Cocaglio and Treviglio, of which I know nothing that I would not gladly forget; and Milano once more, with its gorgeous marble toy ; and the waters of Como, too beautiful for words ; and the neighboring • Lugano, locked in the embrace of "the everlasting hills;" and Varesa, with its wondrous Madonna del Monte; and Mag- giore, with its magical islands, and colossal statue of San Carlo Borromeo ; and Domo d' Ossola, where we spent so pleasant a Sabbath, and were treated so politely by the Ret- tori of the Calvary and the College ; — scenes daguerreotyped eternally upon my soul ! In the picturesque, what country on earth can vie with Italy ? You meet with it everywhere, at all seasons, in every variety of form ; shedding a charm around the commonest objects, beautifying the humblest scenes of social life, and giving an indescribable poetic interest to city and hamlet, to mountain, valley, grove, and stream. Towns climbing the conical hills ; convents crowning the great pyramids of nature; ruined temples looking down from their ancient precipices; pretty villas embowered in evergreens, with slender cypresses, and long arcades of ilex; fragrant gardens, with fountains and statues interspersed among luxuriant plants and shrubbery, and winding walks between walls of living verdure; the golden orange and the gorgeous pome- granate, canopied with the silvery foliage of the olive ; the stone-pine, lifting its broad parasol over the mountains ; the wagon reeling with its load of purple clusters, beneath the far-reaching festoons of the vine; the jessamine and the honeysuckle wreathing the fruitful fig-tree with beauty; the swelling dome and soaring campanile peering over every green and flowery hill ; the peasant, with a bunch of roses in his hat, singing to his guitar, as he saunters along the way; 432 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the shepherd knitting a gray stocking as he marches in the van of his flock, while his faithful dog brings up the rear ; the pretty contadina, with her white veil, yellow sleeves, and scarlet petticoat, wielding the distaff at the door of her father's cottage ; seas and bays and lakes of the purest azure, overarched with the softest skies, and kindling with the most gorgeous sunset glories ; — this is what I call the pic- turesque — a word which, I frankly confess with Mrs. Jame- son, I never fully understood till I went to Italy. And now — " Once more among the old gigantic hills, With vapors clouded o'er; The vales of Lombardy grow dim behind, And rocks ascend before. They beckon me — the giants — from afar, They wing my footsteps on; Their helms of ice, their plumage of the pine, Their cuirasses of stone." Imagine me, prosaic reader, after six months spent in Italy, with my back at length on all her beauties, ascending the gloomy gorge of Glondo, crossing the torrents that descend from many a glacier, and pausing amid the snowy solitudes of the Simplon to look back upon the paradise of delights I have left behind me for ever. How can I help it ? Here goes impromptu : Farewell to the land of love and song! Farewell to the classic shore 1 . Through its fairy scenes I have wandered long, But never shall wander more. Farewell to the fields and the vineyards fair! Farewell to the sunny clime ! Where the valleys smile through the purple air, And the mountains frown sublime! HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 433 Where the poet's dream, and the sage's lore, Have hallowed each stream and hill ; Where the mighty ruled o'er the world of yore, And their spirits are lingering still! Where the morning sheds from her dewy wings A shower of sweet perfume; And the Rosignuolo sits and sings In the ivy that robes the tomb ! As the light of a gentle lady's eyes, Was that beautiful land to me ; Enchanting the soul with its sapphire skies, And the sheen of its azure sea ! I have dreamed at noon in the myrtle bowers, And the silvery olive shade ; I have walked at eve o'er a path of flowers, Through the ilex colonnade. I have mused on many an ancient mound, O'er many a ruin gray; In the dismal galleries under ground, Where the martyrs met to pray. I have ranged through the aisles of temples fair, Bedizened with gems and gold ; With their marbles rich, and their relics rare, And their legends strange and old. And oft in the solemn crypt confined, I have lingered and mused alone, With the saints in their crystal coflins shrined, And their histories told in stone. And now adieu to the land of flowers, To her legendary lore, To her sacred arts, and her soaring towers — Adieu, and for evermore ! 19 434 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Nine miles we walk, in advance of our voiture, up the fine Simplon road, till we reach, the Hospice at the summit, where we pause to talk with the aged Rettore, and make the acquaintance of those noble dogs. I gaze up at the glitter- ing pinnacles around me, and an avalanche of inspiration sweeps me headlong into verse, as the avalanche of snow sweeps the traveller into the Saltine ! Hail to the everlasting hills ! Hail to the crystal Alps ! Where the heaven perpetual snow distils, Uprearing their hoary scalps ! Where the storm-king rides on his misty throne, And frets in his fiercest mood; And the gray-bearded winter sits alone, In eternal solitude ! Full many a torrent, glacier-born, Glides feathery o'er my way, To many a gulf where never morn Yet heralded the day. Full many a cataract of snow Hath left its desolate path, That down to the gloomy depth below Went thundering in its wrath. And the traveller looked to the mountain height, And he knew 'twas his hour of doom ; All vain was the prayer, and all vain the flight, For the avalanche was his tomb! Brieg, Sion, the Vallais, and " the arrowy Rhone." At Martigny we abandon wheels and take to the donkey. O, that passage over the Forclaz ! Then the Tete Noir, with its forest of larches, thick as they can stand, and every trunk as straight as an arrow! In many places the moun- tain-side is clothed with flowers ; and far up, where no other HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 435 growth is to be seen, the rhododendron flourishes in gay luxuriance. Here a cross is erected to mark the spot where, only a few months since, a luckless passenger perished in the snow ; and a little farther on, the place is pointed out where a party were swept away by an avalanche. A wild sublimity reigns around us. Huge fragments of rock lie scattered and piled on all sides, as if all the gods of the Iliad had made this their battle-ground for centuries. The eternal glaciers glit- ter among the jagged aiguilles that pierce the clouds, and feathery waterfalls leap apparently from the sky into fright- ful chasms beneath. Here is the Cascade Barbarine, formed by a stream which rushes down the mountain from a dizz}?- height, and then plunges a sheer precipice of four hundred feet. A little platform, built out over the water from a projecting rock, afforded us a view of marvellous beauty. The sun was at the meridian, shining in his utmost strength ; and beneath us lay a glorious horizon- tal iris, about three hundred feet in diameter — a complete circle, with the exception of the small arc covered by the platform. It was a sight for an angel's eye ! For some account of our further progress, and how it hap- pened that top much wine in the driver's brain upset our char-a-banc, and well-nigh hurled us down the precipice ; of our descent into the vale of Chamouni ; our introduction to " the Monarch of Mountains," his aspect, clouded and un- clouded ; the Brevent, the Flegere, the Montanvert, and the Aiguille de Dru ; and how we spent the Fourth of July, the scribe's birthday and the nation's, in wandering over the Mer de Glace and the Glacier de Bosson, and along their rugged borders; and how we were honored with the view of a glorious avalanche — an immense mass of snow rushing several thousand feet down the mountain-side, as if for our personal gratification; the enchantments of our trip to Geneva; a Sabbath in the city of Calvin; a sermon from 436 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the patriarchal Dr. Malan; a meeting with friends whom we had known and loved at Rome : a steamboat excursion on the lake; Lausanne, Vevey, and the prison of Chillon ; Byron, Gribbon, Rousseau, Voltaire, Madame de Stael, and the sainted Fletcher, whose names are all linked with its ceru- lean waters ; the interesting panstereorama, which greatly helped our meagre comprehension of the Alpine Chorogra- phy, and verified the Scotchman's idea of Switzerland — that, small as it seems, it would be a pretty large country, if flat- tened out like Holland; — for this and much more, I must again refer the reader to " Reflected Fragments." Hence over the Jura, and down the Rhine, with many a pleasant incident; the castled Heidelberg, with its university and its duels ; Frankfort and Weimer, with their memorials of G-oethe and Schiller; Erfurt and Eisenach, with their memorials of a mightier than they; the sadly pleasing meet- ing at Dresden with one beloved, whom we had left there six months before ; the scribe's departure solus for his native land, where he sojourned four blessed months in Eden; our subsequent meeting in Paris, the happy days we spent there, the return to England, and "Paradise Regained;" — these likewise, all and singular, are among the same " Fragments" with due fidelity " Reflected." METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 437 CHAPTER XXXIII. METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. FORTY-NINTH COUSIN ILLUSTRIOUS ANCESTRY 'LAYING OF A FOUNDA- TION-STONE TEA-PA.RTY NUMBER ONE TEA-PARTY NUMBER TWO TEA-PARTY NUMBER THREE TEA-PARTY NUMBER FOUR — TEA-PARTY NUMBER FIVE TEA-PARTY NUMBER SIX TEA-PARTY NUMBER SEVEN TEA-PARTY NUMBER EIGHT ANECDOTE OF MR. SPURGEON. When first in London, by the merest accident — say rather by the most remarkable providence — I made the acquaintance of Dr. Robert Cross, a pious man, a profound scholar, a successful author, a popular lecturer, an eminent physician, a distinguished philanthropist, and in all respects worthy of his name, and of the right hand of fellowship which I gave him. He promptly claimed a relationship — that of forty-ninth cousin, or some other; and cordially offered me the hospitalities of his house when I should return from the continent ; which, of course, I was not uncivil enough to decline. And now congratulate me, O generous reader, on my arrival and reception at No. 20 New street, Spring Gardens, just on the corner of St. James's Park, with a fine outlook upon Westminster Abbey, and within a stone's throw of Trafalgar Square — the occupant of better quarters than often fall to the lot of my profession, and the guest of one of the worthiest families to be found without the gates of Eden. Dr. Cross is an elder in Dr. Cumming's church; and Mrs. Cross is the Dorcas of the 438 A YEAR IN EUROPE. same — yea, also, the Martha and the Mary. The Doetor told me more of my ancestry than I ever knew before; gave me, somewhat in detail, the pedigree of the family; the chief facts of which — a few mountain summits peering through the mists of antiquity — I here record for the edifi- cation of the reader's reverence for his author. The first of the name, of whom any thing is certainly known, was one Odo Saint Croix, a monk and crusader in the battalions of Richard Coeur de Lion, in the latter part of the twelfth century. The biographer of our illustrious relation, the late Dr. Andrew Crosse, the famous chemist and electrician, of Somersetshire, speaks of an Odo de Santa Croce, a Norman thane, or nobleman, who accompa- nied William the Conqueror into Britain, something more than a hundred years earlier than the period I have men- tioned. This Odo may have been the great-grandfather, or the sublime great-grandfather of our crusading Odo. Be that as it may — and my utmost ambition finds its goal in the latter — it is a fact pretty well authenticated, that at the siege of Ascalon this immortal monk led the forlorn hope of a disastrous day, and planted the banner of the cross upon the heights of the citadel. For this heroic act he was promptly knighted by his sovereign. The crest conferred upon him was a crane — the sacred bird of the East — bear- ing a cross in its beak. The following beautiful sentence he chose for his motto : "Crucedum spiro Jido." The figures on his shield were identical with those of the Knights Templars; to which order, therefore, our redoubtable monk must have belonged.* The honor of knighthood not being hereditary, the title expired with its possessor. But some time afterward the family was ennobled with the title of Baron Upton ; and subsequently with that of Earl of Lex- * See the Vignette. METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 439 ington ; which was forfeited during the civil wars by being found on the wrong side in politics. A descendant, who had served with distinction in the Peninsular War, and was one of the officers who, under Lord Beresford, assisted in organizing the Portuguese army, was created a Knight of the Tower and Sword of Portugal. Having had a taste of glory, he subsequently conceived the idea of reviving the ancient family title. With this view, he spent a whole year tracing out his pedigree at the British Museum and elsewhere. Having a considerable claim upon government for service rendered, he prosecuted his researches with ardor, and was very sanguine of success, till he found a branch of the original stock older than that to which he belonged, when he very prudently dropped the enterprise. Of this older branch Dr. Robert Cross is the oldest son, and, therefore, the person properly entitled to the enviable dis- tinction aforesaid. He, however, is a perfect Grallio in the matter; deeming the honor scarcely worth the trouble of its acquisition. The revival of a former title is always attended with difficulty, and seldom will Parliament entertain a pro- position for the purpose, except in case of some very distin- guished service to the Crown. On this account, with others which I will not name, I intend quietly to pursue my lite- rary avocation, in imitation of the unambitious but success- ful Lord Macaulay; depending for my future honors less upon any hereditary claim than upon the popularity of this my European itinerary. Meanwhile, humble and democratic reader, respect thy author, who from the forementioned illustrious Odo Saint Croix, if not from his sublime great- grandfather, Odo de Santa Crocc, is most indubitably descended ; and that by a very stupendous scale — my grand- father a pedagogue, my father a carpenter, and myself a Methodist preacher ! And it is surely something consola- tory, in the absence of all other hereditary emoluments, to 440 A YEAR IN EUROPE. know that " nry father's house/' though " small in Israel/' had a titled ancestry, possessing sundry broad acres in the neighborhood of Brent Knoll, and scouring the surrounding plains with packs of yelping hounds, long before Monmouth led his forces through " Brentinarsh" to the fatal field of Sedgeinoor. And it is not a little edifying to one's com- fortable estimate of himself, after having lain more than thirty years under the levelling despotism of this odious democracy, to trace the several streams of his ancestral aristocracy up to their common source in the mighty Odo ; and to find the identical coat-of-arms worn by him still retained in all the three branches of the family extant — in Somersetshire, in Herefordshire, and in Nottinghamshire ; to one or another of which three branches every " forked radish" surnamed Cross, whether on this or that side of the Atlantic, doth beyond all controversy belong. Soon after rny arrival, I was informed that the corner- stone of a new Wesleyan chapel was to be laid that very day at Acton, six miles out of the city. I thought this would be a good opportunity to see something of the spirit of Eng- lish Methodism. But how should I get there in time ? for it was now half-past one, and the service was advertised to commence at two. My forty-ninth cousin suggested that a Hansom's cab and double fee to the driver would do it. Whoever wants a pleasant and rapid ride in England should patronize Hansom's Patent Safety; and he who,, upon expe- riment, does not thank me for the advice, is nothing better than an ill-conditioned Vandal. Jehu, son of Nimshi ! with what a rush we went ! and with what an air of exquisite satisfaction the driver touched his cap as he pocketed his six shillings sterling ! I reached the spot just as the assembly commenced sing- ing; and with much difficulty elbowed my way through the outer circles of the throne;, and obtained a stand where I METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 441 could see and hear. After the hymn, and an excellent prayer by the superintendent of the circuit, the Rev. Mr. Wiseman — not the Cardinal, but a much wiser man — de- livered a very happy address. He reviewed the history of Methodism, recounted the toils and sufferings of its sainted heroes, and praised the zeal and liberality of Thomas Farmer, Esq., to whom this circuit, and particularly this society, were so much indebted for their pecuniary prosperity. Then a fine silver trowel, with a long commendatory inscription upon it, was presented to the good old man • who, after a nice little speech in reply, with this beautiful instrument proceeded to enact the mason, plentifully interspersing the performance with pleasant little speeches, which the mul- titude applauded right lustily. This ended, he invited all present to repair to his park near by, and partake of a repast which he had provided; and then the assembly was dismissed with the doxology and the benediction. This was my opportunity for delivering to Mr. Farmer a letter of introduction which I bore from Dr. Taylor, our late missionary to China. Of course, I got a special invitation to the park, and was honored with one of the chief places at the feast. Seven hundred persons, or more, gathered around the table. The first thing done was the singing of grace by the whole company standing : " Be present at our table, Lord ; Be here and everywhere adored ; These creatures bless, and grant that we May feast in Paradise with thee." After a plentiful refreshment, and abundance of pleasant chat, all arose, and returned thanks, to the tune of Old Hundred, in the following words : "We thank thee, Lord, for this our food; But more than all for Jesus' blood : 19* 442 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Let manna to our souls be given, The bread of life sent down from heaven." Then Mr. Milburn delivered a long address on the Early- Methodist Preachers in America — substantially one of the series of lectures to which thousands lately listened with so much delight on our side of the Atlantic. It was evidently new to an English audience, and touched the people at a hundred points. They laughed and wept by turns, and occasionally cheered vociferously. Having alluded to his American brother, who was present, the writer was requested to follow " the Blind Orator." I promptly gave them proof that I was not unwilling to " speak in meeting," and assured ■ them that I should be ready to respond to all subsequent calls of the kind so long as I might remain in London, and perhaps it might be wise in them on some future occasion to make me the chief speaker. They understood the hint, and I understood their policy, and knew very well what amount of courtesy to expect. It was good to be there. I had often heard of the Wes- leyan tea-parties, and very much desired to witness the phe- nomenon. It is interesting to see with what a hearty good will our British brethren engage in such Christian merry- making. Verily, the half was not told me. It was pleasant also to meet my friend Mr. Harper, who was in company with Mr. Milburn; and to make the acquaintance of the author of the Successful Merchant and the Tongue of Fire, just returned in improved health from his sojourn in the East. So much for Tea-Party Number One. Tea-Party Number Two was not less interesting, though very different. Having accidentally become acquainted with the Dean of Westminster, I was invited to spend an evening at his residence in the Abbey. The company consisted chiefly of clergymen — a dozen or more of the most distin- METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 443 guished in the metropolis, including two of the canons of St. Paul's, and as many ladies. It was a very pleasant reunion; and, after it was over, I returned to the house of my forty- ninth cousin, thoroughly convinced that the English ladies and gentlemen — I use the terms in their proper sense — are the most agreeable people in the world. I never felt more at home in any society, and never enjoyed a three hours' chit-chat with a goodlier zest. The Dean is a quiet, humble, unobtrusive, and exceedingly amiable man ; and his wife is one of the loveliest of womankind. Through the kind offices of Dean Trench, I received the next day a note from the Earl of Shaftesbury, enclosing a ticket to admit me to the House of Lords, where I heard Lord Brougham for an hour. The British Demosthenes is not what he once was, though he still has much energy, occasionally kindles with a genial warmth, and is listened to with the most profound respect. Tea-Party Number Three was a Conversazione of the Na- tional Club, to which I was admitted on the recommendation of my forty-ninth cousin, who is a member. The subject of the evening was the Dwellings of the Poor, and their Im- provement. Lord Shaftesbury was in the chair, and opened the discussion in an admirable Christian speech. The Rt. Rev. Robert Bickersteth, Lord Bishop of Ripon, followed with a series of facts and arguments which I wish all the philan- thropy of England could have heard. Then there were remarks by the Rev. C Champney, canon of St. Paul's; by the Rev. Mr. Marsden, of Birmingham ; by Lord Charles Russell, brother of Lord John; by the Hon. William Cowper, the Hon. Arthur Kinnaird, Sir Brook Bridges, Doctor Dick- son, and several more. Much interesting information was elicited, many frightfully graphic pictures were drawn of the condition of the poor in their homes, and the speakers seemed to be deeply concerned for their social and moral im- provement. What would an American think of a whole 444 A YEAR IN EUROPE. family — father, mother, and seven children — living in a room eight feet square, without bed, chair, stool, or table ? What think you, benevolent reader, of three families in a room eight by ten ? what of their comfort ? what of their morals ? How can they possibly be Christians ? And the speakers argued very logically that their homes must bo improved before their souls can be saved. I afterwards went with my forty-ninth cousin, in his charitable rounds, into many of these dens of filth and crime; and from such scenes into some of the Model Lodging-Houses, established through the energetic labors of Lord Shaftesbury. It is a refreshing contrast. Very different still was Tea-Party Number Four — em- phatically u the feast of reason and the flow of soul" — to wit, a meeting in behalf of the Crown Court Ragged Schools. Lord Alfred Paget was in the chair — a young man, formerly devoted to sporting, who has lately, under the ministry of Dr. Cumming, turned his attention to religion ; and is just beginning, in good earnest, to labor in the vineyard of the Lord. The Bishop of Ripon was advertised as one of the speakers, but did not make his appearance. Mr. Milburn's name also, through my officiousness, was in the programme; but he left the city a day or two before, and was then in Liverpool. As your scribe was an "American" — albeit an " English American" — it fell to his lot to deliver the first address. Mr. McGregor, a distinguished barrister of Temple Bar, followed with an admirable speech. The facetious Mr. Payne, also a barrister, kept the house in a perfect uproar for thirty minutes with his anecdotes and original poetry. I wish I could describe his speech to the American reader, it was so remarkable an instance of the freedom and the fun of the British platform. After reciting, by way of proem, some twenty verses which he had composed for the occasion, the most unique I ever heard, he proceeded to characterize METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 445 the work of the society in the following string of proposi- tions : "I. It is a Good and Great "Work, "II. A Love and Hate Work, " III. A Pray and Wait Work, "IV. An Early and Late Work, "V. A No Debate Work, and "VI. An Excellent Fate Work;" each of which he sustained and illustrated, logically and theologically, by short arguments and striking anecdotes, with snatches of the queerest original poetry ever manufac- tured by mortal man. There is no platform speaker in London more popular than this same Counsellor Payne. Then the Rev. Dr. Cumming brought up the rear in his own peculiar manner. I think he is one of the happiest declaim- ers I ever heard. On the whole, it was a very pleasant tea- party, and resulted in pecuniary profit to the cause. The Ragged School movement is a noble charity, and is effecting incalculable good for the poor children of the metropolis; and not for them alone, but also for their fathers and mothers, and for society at large. Tea-Party Number Five was a tea-party " in deed and in truth;" ay, and a dinner-party, too; and it would have done both your soul and body good, benevolent reader, to have been there. The "Lord Mayor of London Town" — not he of the feline fame, Mr. Richard Whittington — had invited the Ragged School Shoe-blacks to an entertainment at his country-seat. At eight o'clock in the morning, the jolly little fellows met at their several stations, and marched to the railroad, where an excursion train awaited them. It was a pleasant sight — six hundred boys under fourteen years of age, all rescued from ruin, most of them having been street- beggars or pickpockets, with the officers and friends of the 446 A YEAR IN EUROPE. society, marching to their own music, and bearing the banners of their redemption ; and it was delightful to hear the comments and commendations of gentlemen and ladies, as they met the procession, and paused to gaze after it, often with tearful eyes, as it wound along the narrow street. There were six " brigades/' all dressed in jerseys of different colors, and called the Red, the Blue, the G-reen, the Brown, the Purple, and the Yellow. Now and then, as one of their chief patrons made his appearance, and fell into the train, they would raise such a merry shout as might gladden the heart of any philanthropist in Christendom. Eight miles upon the railroad, and we were at Wanstead Park. The Lord Mayor and his lady came by, in a gay carriage — the" verv fac-simile of "Dick Whittington's" as you have seen it in nursery pictures — with gaudily-attired postilions and out- riders. A roll upon the drums, and three hearty cheers, made the oaks and firs vibrate with joy. "That will do!" cries the marshal of the clay. " Three times three for the Lord Mayor !" sings out the little fellow with the banner in the van of the Blue brigade. And three times three they gave, and their clear young voices rang through the grove — the prelude of a joyful future. Arrived on the ground, they are arranged in a circle, and seated on the grass. The Lord Mayor steps into the centre, takes off his hat, and opens his mouth to speak; but before he has said "Boys/' "Hurrah for the Lord Mayor !" over and over again, shout the whole six hundred. " Boys, I am glad to see you here" — says the Lord Mayor, as soon as he can be heard — "you are welcome to my grounds !" " Thankee, sir ! Thankee, sir ! Glad to see you too, sir ! Welcome here yourself, sir !" reply the whole company from the bottom of their lungs ; and then, "Hurrah for the Lord Mayor !" rings along the line again for a minute or two ; he meanwhile waiting for an opportu- nity to continue his speech. He resumes : " You may go METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 447 where you like, and amuse yourselves as you please; only don't get over the fences, or into the water, or so far away that you can't hear the dinner-bell. There are plenty of rabbits, and you may have as many as ever you can catch ; but be sure to come back when you hear the bell, about one o'clock." " Thankee, sir ! Hurrah for the Lord Mayor !" and six hundred caps are thrown up into the sunshine. Then away they scamper over the blossoming fields; and such fun and frolic, I dare say, they never enjoyed before. Their friend Mr. McGregor was the youngest boy among them ; and could run faster, and laugh louder, and kick the foot- ball farther, than any of his playfellows. And this is the eminent barrister, who holds public disputes every Sabbath with the infidels in the Park, and discourses for hours together to the assembled thousands on the great matter of their salvation. He is a layman of the Established Church, always "ready unto every good work." When such men as he, aud Lord Shaftesbury, and the Bishop of Ripon, are seen engaging in these Christian enterprises with so much zeal and energy, one cannot help feeling that there is still salt in the Church, aud hope for the nation. One o'clock; the bell rings; the table is thronged ; the Mayor's chaplain says grace; lords and ladies wait upon the little guests ; and such a packing away of roast beef and plum-pudding I never saw before. I heard many a little rogue declare that he had never made such a dinner before in his life. I went around the table, talking with the boys. Some of them told me they had three pounds in the savings' bank; others six; and one nine. After dinner, the Mayor and Lord Shaftesbury both addressed the boys, and the cheering was more vociferous than ever. Through his chap- lain, I was introduced to the Lord Mayor, and received an invitation to dine with the clergy in the mansion. More 448 A YEAR IN EUROPE. than fifty persons sat down to a sumptuous table. The speaking was renewed by Lord Shaftesbury in a noble ad- dress to the Lord Mayor. He reviewed the several reforma- tory measures instituted within the last few years in London, especially the Ragged-schools and the Shoe-blacks Societies. He stated that in the year 1851, forty-seven thousand cases of disorderly conduct were brought before the Lord Mayor : within the last twelve months, not more than twenty-two thousand. The Lord Mayor replied in a very happy manner, and we arose from the table refreshed in body and in soul. The boys had resumed their sports, and I spent the after- noon in making new acquaintances, and improving them, chiefly among the clergy of the Church of England. A Mr. Cadman, who is one of the most popular and useful men in London, and the Chaplain of the Lord Mayor, were particu- larly kind and agreeable. The reverends present seemed to be all of the evangelical class, and I believe there is scarcely a nobler body of Christian ministers in the world. The piety and catholicity of their spirit appeared very different from what I have generally found among the Protestant Episcopal clergy of our own country. The accounts which I constantly heard, and the instances which I constantly saw, of the zeal and self-denial of some of them, made me quite ashamed of myself, and of many of my brethren at home. Depend upon it, there is a great revival going on in the ministry of the Establishment. They " go into the highways and hedges" to preach the gospel, and they preach it often with a refresh- ing unction. It is a common thing for a rector to preach two sermons of a Sabbath in his pulpit, and a third in the open air. Outdoor preaching, indeed, is now quite a mania in England ; and men of the first position in the Church have taken the field; and the new Lord Bishop of London himself, who is an eminently evangelical man, sanctions and METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 449 encourages the movement. It is Wesley and Whitefield over again. I repeat it : There is still salt in the Church; there is still hope for the nation I At five the bell rang again ; the boys returned to the table for tea; the dinner scenes, with sundry variations, were reenacted ; and the setting sun found the jolly little shoe- blacks recounting the deeds of the day in their own humble abodes; and your faithful scribe, dear reader, a better and happier man than when he went forth in the morning, sitting in an upper room, at Number Twenty, New Street, Spring G-ardens, making memoranda of his Fifth Metropolitan Tea- party. The Sixth, if possible still more interesting, was the "Autumn Festival of the Young Men's Mutual Improve- ment Society, of the Parish of St. Jude's •" which I attended by special invitation of the Rectox*, the Rev. Hugh Allen, in company with his friend Mr. Carpenter, a benevolent Irish gentleman, who showed me many kind attentions during my sojourn in London. Entering a narrow court, filled with all sorts of people, we soon came to a very large building of very rough exterior, crowded to its utmost capacity. On the door was this advertisement : "ADMITTANCE : "Before Tea, One Shilling; After Tea, Sixpence." " Tickets, if you please, gentlemen !" said the porter, as we passed. " I'm their ticket !" cried a voice within. It was Hugh Allen. " Walk in, gentlemen !" he continued in a rapid, nervous manner, which instantly reminded me of "Father Taylor," of Boston: "Go up to the platform; Counsellor Payne will receive you; I'll be there directly." Up to the platform we went, passing between long lines of tables, loaded with substantial luxuries. Counsellor Payne 450 A YEAR IN EUROPE. introduced us to half a dozen clergymen of the Establish- ment, and as many dissenting ministers, among whom was the Rev. Mr. Adams, of Salem Chapel, and an eloquent young man of Lady Huntingdon's connection. We were seated. " See him !" said the Counsellor, pointing to the Rector, who, with his hat on, was pushing hither and thither through the crowd, giving orders, arranging the seats, wel- coming every new-comer, talking like a cataract, and gesti- culating like an Italian. "No man in London/' rejoined Mr. L., " is doing more good at the present time than that same Hugh Allen. Six years ago, when he came to St. Jude's, this court was one of the most notorious places in the city, and the very house in which you are now sitting was a distillery. The proprietor wrote him a note, request- ing him not to organize a temperance society, or do any thing to break up his business, as the distillery was his only dependence for the support of his wife and children. ' Better your wife and children should suffer hunger,' re- plied Hugh Allen, ' than souls should perish by your trade : I am responsible for duties, not for consequences : look to yourself, my friend !' He went to work in earnest. In three months every grog-shop in the neighborhood was abolished; and in as many more, he had a Sunday-school in the still-house. It would do you good, sir, to attend one of his ' Early Sunday Morning Breakfasts' in this room. You would see nearly three hundred young persons, male and female, sit down to eat and drink together; and after prayer and some advice from their pastor, disperse to their work as Sunday-school teachers. Bo you see that noble company of young men, sitting together there on the front bench ? There are about twenty-five, and they are all street-preachers ; yes, sir, what the Wesleyans call 'lay helpers.' Every Sab- bath they go out into the highways and hedges, wherever Mr. Allen sends them; and a good work they are doing, to METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 451 be sure, sir! And then he has organized a Shoe -blacks' brigade, two or three ragged-schools, and a Reformed Pick- pockets' Society. There is no end, sir, to his activity. Why, sir, for the last fortnight, to my certain knowledge, he has preached every night; yes, sir, every single night!" And does he write his sermons ? said I. " no," he answered, u he never writes a sermon ; nor need he ; his head and heart are both full of sermons. He would die, if he could not preach !" This and much more. Then comes Hugh Allen to the platform, throws off his hat, calls the assembly to order, offers an appropriate prayer, makes a brief introductory address, in which he talks funnily of being " tied up," and compli- ments the " cleverality" of his young men, and tells the audience he has " a lion and a unicorn" for their entertain- ment, alluding to the Counsellor and the Scribe, who sat on his right and left. Then he called on his "American friend" for a speech ; and to keep the bashful young man in counte- nance before so large an assembly, shouted at the end of every sentence, " Hear him ! Hear him !" Counsellor Payne, meanwhile, sat busily writing on the crown of his hat ; and, when I ceased, in response to the call of the Rev. President sprang to his feet, and delivered himself of the drollest harangue ever uttered by the drollest of orators. " I have come to this place to-night," said he, "to see — " I. A Preacher remarkable for four things : A preacher that does not mumble, A preacher that does not grumble, A preacher that does not stumble, A preacher both proud and humble: " II. An Association of Young Men remarkable for four things : 452 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Young men with their heads unfuddled, Young men with their minds unmuddled, Young men with their hearts untroubled, Young men with their comforts doubled." These were the divisions and subdivisions of his discourse, the form of which he justified by the presence of such a number of divines. The flesh with which he covered his skeleton fitted the bones most admirably ; and the queer fan- tastic biped lived and glowed before us, and went singing and dancing through the hearts of the people, and jingling his eight toes in the merriest manner imaginable. And here is the orator's conclusion, composed while his " Yankee Brother" was speaking : " Doctor Cross and Counsellor Payne, The one from a city across the main, The other of that which is England's pride, Are seated at good Hugh Allen's side. "Doctor Cross is a clever man; He smiles upon every useful plan; His talents, I reckon and guess, are great; And he's always ready, I calculate. " Counsellor Payne and Doctor Cross Would surely have suffered a grievous loss, Had they not been here to-night to see St. Jude's young men's ' clever -alily.' "Doctor Cross and Counsellor Payne Will be happy, some day, to come again; And see Hugh Allen, and cheer him on, And add to the praise he has rightly won. "Counsellor Payne and Doctor Cross Would the claims of the Treasurer now endorse; And bid you give him the aid he needs, And follow the course he so nobly leads. METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 453 "Doctor Cross and Counsellor Payne Are both 'tied up' to a little strain; For time is short, and they can but say, Success to the friends who are here to-day ! " Success to the President, brave and bold! Success to the Officers, new and old ! Success to the Young Men, good and true ! And success to the fair Young Women too !" The above is verbatim et literatim, from a copy sent me the nest day by the orator, upon my solicitation. I mention these things in illustration of the freedom of the platform among our British brethren. In the pulpit, such is my opinion, we excel them ; but on occasions like these, they are unquestionably our superiors. They do not make speeches : they speak. Mr. Payne was followed by several clergymen ; and the clergymen, by several of the young men of the society; and the young men, by chickens, and turkeys, and lobsters, and oysters, and salads, and puddings, and jellies, and custards, and ice-creams, and all manner of fruits, and whatsoever edifieth the physical man ; and then, with a hymn, a prayer, and a benediction, we parted, to meet again, I hope, at " the supper of the Lamb I" My next Tea-Party was a dinner at the Old Bailey, with the judges and advocates, the sheriff and under-sheriffs, the Rev. Ordinary of Newgate, and several other persons of dis- tinction, after sitting some hours in the court, and wander- ing through the cells of the prison. I dismiss this occasion with the following memoranda : 1. We sat nearly four hours at the table. 2. Among so many great men, I saw very little wit or wisdom. 3. The five clergymen present appeared to drink as much wine as any other five of the company. 454 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 4. One of them pronounced sudden conversion an absurd- ity, and the joy of faith in the hour of death nothing but a delirium. 5. I could not help contrasting this scene with what I had witnessed at the Lord's Mayor's table at Wansted Park, and more than once I wished myself again at Hugh Allen's Distillery. I will mention but one Tea-Party more — a supper at the house of my excellent forty-ninth cousin, in honor of his forty-sixth birthday, which was celebrated by the family, with a goodly concourse of kinsfolk, after the manner of the good old times. There was present an interesting young man, a licentiate in Mr. Spurgeon's church, who gave me, among others, the following anecdote of that popular young min- ister : Mr. Spurgeon was invited by a wealthy gentleman in the country, some forty miles from London, to come to his place and preach. Arriving there, he found a huge tent erected in the park, with bales of hay arranged tier above tier for seats, a pile of bales for a pulpit, and three or four thousand people waiting to hear him. He preached, and the people thought they had never heard such preaching before. The service over, he retired to the gentleman's house to dine, ac- companied by several ministers of his own order, and followed by hundreds of his hearers. The conversation at table, in which the young preacher took the lead, was on the sin of needless self-indulgence, and the Christian obligation of self-denial. After dinner, an old minister, whose learning was rather limit- ed, pulled out his pipe, seemed anxious to light it, but evidently felt somewhat embarrassed from the preceding conversation. He looked at his pipe, then at the fire, and then at Mr. Spurgeon. Again he looked at Spurgeon, at the fire, at the pipe. At length he said, " Brother Spurgeon, do you think it would be wrong for me to smoke ?" " Have you any scrip- METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 455 ture to justify the practice?" asked the preacher. "Well, I think I have/' added the venerable father in Israel. " I shall be glad to hear what it is," rejoined Mr. Spurgeon. " Well, brother, David was certainly a smoker." "Ah, how do you make that out?" "Well, he speaks, you know, in one of the psalms, of going through the valley of Bacca, (Baca;) and I make no doubt, that was a private planta- tion, for his own particular use." Spurgeon cast a funny side-glance toward his host; and keeping the serious half of his countenance toward the old man, replied gravely, "You can smoke, Father Spikenard." 456 A YEAR IN EUROPE, CHAPTER XXXIV. PULPIT CELEBRITIES. CROLY MELVILL HAMILTON SKETCH OP THE LATE EDWARD IRVING CRITICAL ESTIMATE OF "THE MODERN WHITEFIELD." Let arms revere the robe — the warrior's laurel Yield to the palm of eloquence ! ClCERO. Who that has read Salatlriel has not desired to hear Dr. Croly ? For magnificent rhetoric and powerful descrip- tion, I scarcely know the equal of that book in the English language. When a youth, I wondered and wept over its glowing pages ; and I have since read it repeatedly, with ever-increasing admiration and delight. A few years ago, meeting with a stray volume of the author's sermons, I seized it with avidity, expecting a rare treat of eloquence. What a disappointment ! There was Croly's diction, and something of Croly's imagery; but an historical romance and an evangeli- cal sermon, I soon found, might be two very different things ; and these discourses proved meagre in thought, defective in logic, exceedingly discursive in treatment, and sadly wanting in the most important elements of pulpit composition. While in London, I had the opportunity of listening to their author. It was in his own church — St. Stephen's, Walbrook ; and on an interestine- occasion — a collection for a valuable PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 457 Christian charity. Of course, the preacher did his best; and the sermon, I think, was equal to any that I have read from his pen ; but it lacked both unity of method and com- pactness of material, and was quite as well suited to the lecture-room as to the house of God. Dr. Croly is an aged man, of large stature and impressive appearance. His delivery is rapid, earnest, emphatic. His right arm is con- stantly in violent motion, as if he were smiting the anvil. His voice is thick and heavy, his enunciation somewhat indistinct — the effect, I am informed, of a partial paralysis of the organs of speech which he experienced a few years ago. He reads his discourses rather closely; but on this occasion he concluded with a powerful extempore appeal in behalf of the charity which he advocated. His church is large, but sparsely seated; though the congregation is quite select, composed in great part of the more intellectual class of the London gen- try. They use a hymn-book of their pastor's own compila- tion, containing many of his own compositions, which are worthy of his literary fame, but perhaps, like his discourses, wanting in evangelical unction. It seems strange to many that such a man as Dr. Croly should have so little influence in the Church — scarcely any, indeed, beyond the walls of St. Stephen's. The fact is probably to be attributed to this great defect in his ministry. He is not a spiritual preacher. He is not a zealous worker. He never appears upon the plat- form in behalf of any of the great Christian enterprises of the metropolis, and seems to have little sympathy with those who are engaged in their promotion. He is content to move in his own parish, and let the rest of London, and of the world, take care of themselves. Even at home, his labors are confined almost entirely to the pulpit and the pen. In short, he is too much like the present scribe to be a very useful minister of the gospel. The greatest man in the London pulpit, unquestionably — 20 458 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and, in my opinion, the finest " sernionizer" in England- — is the Rev. Henry Melvill, B. D. Mr. Melvill is now one of the canons of Saint Paul's. What a race I have had after hiin, to be sure — last Christmas, and since my return from the continent — first to Poultry Chapel, then to the Tower, and finally to Saint Paul's — inquiring of clergymen and vergers, policemen and publishers, churchmen and dissenters, everybody that was likely to know any thing of the object of my quest ! At length I have caught him. I have heard him three times in the great cathedral. What a pity so vast and fine a structure should have such inadequate accommo- dation for preaching ! The pulpit is in the choir, which twelve hundred hearers will crowd to its utmost capacity, galleries and all. So it is in Westminster Abbey, and in all the English cathedrals : not in those of Italy, for the children of His Holiness are " wiser in their generation" than the children of Her Majesty's Church. The first Sabbath, I went half an hour before the service ; and found the steps thronged, and the very street blockaded, by hundreds of people, waiting for the opening of the door; and when it was opened, there was a frightful rush — a perfect cataract of humanity ; and in one minute every seat was occupied, ex- cept the stalls, which were locked, in reserve for the choris- ters and distinguished personages; and as I belonged to neither class, I had the utmost difficulty in securing room even to stand within hearing-distance of the pulpit. The second Sabbath, the press was still greater; but through the kindness of the Eev. Mr. B., who sent a note to the verger to put me in his stall, I had a comfortable seat, and a fine opportunity of seeing and hearing the preacher. The third Sabbath, I stood through the whole service — something more than two hours; and had Melvill continued preaching, I would gladly have stood two hours longer. It was a spiritual treat, such as I have seldom enjoyed. As we left the church, PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 459 a distinguished clergyman remarked to me : " You are very fortunate, to-day, sir : you have heard Melvill at his best." The text was the words of Jude : "And of some have com- passion, making a difference; and others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire ; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh." I need not give you a synopsis : you can imagine how Melvill would preach from such a text. It was a solid mass of thought, squared by the severest logic, and adorned with the noblest rhetoric. It was highly evan- gelical, too; full of the very essence of the gospel. But a delivery so peculiar, who shall describe ? It is wholly un- imaginable. The war-steed rushing to the charge — the avalanche thundering down the mountain — the burning ship flying before the tempest — are the best similitudes of his splendid impetuosity and power. His voice is clear, but not musical; his enunciation, very distinct and emphatic; his intonations and inflections, quite ludicrous to a stranger. Now you have the tone and cadence of rapid, earnest con- versation ; then the speaker drops into a lower key, husky and guttural, and runs on in a perfect monotone for five minutes or more, till you imagine him quite exhausted for want of breath ; when suddenly he vaults into the lofty sentence which is to conclude the paragraph ; and with a mighty "0!" in the middle, and a spasmodic jerk of the head at the end, he flings out the words in a half-scream, which well-nigh electrifies the audience. The Rev. Dr. Ryerson, of Canada, who was present the last Sabbath, assured me that he was much more vehement twenty years ago ; and that there is scarcely any thing now, in voice or manner, to remind one of the former Melvill. Action, strictly speaking, he has none. He stands as erect and motionless as the Nelson monument, till he comes to the close of an argument ; when he slightly elevates his right hand, and gives a nod, which threatens the dislocation of his neck. 460 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Of slight stature, thin visage, dark complexion, keen black eyes, finely moulded features, and bushy hair as white as wool, he is a man of imposing mien; but not half so majes- tic in the pulpit as McNiel, nor half so graceful as Cumming. Spurgeon attracts the mob ; Melvill draws the intellect of London. The Penny Pulpit, for more than twenty years, has published more of his sermons than of any other living man's, and annually a large volume of them is bound up for the market. His popularity, however, is confined to the pul- pit and the manuscript. He makes no platform speeches, nor ever ventures an extemporaneous paragraph. " 'Tis true 'tis pity — pity 'tis 'tis true ;" but it must not be denied that he is pretty thoroughly imbued with the sacramentarian theology ; and in one of the sermons to which I listened, he taught most distinctly and earnestly the doctrine of baptismal regeneration — that when- ever the water of baptism is sprinkled by a consecrated hand upon a child, that child is regenerated, and needs but abide in the grace received, in order to eternal salvation. Is this the effect of ecclesiastical promotion ? Must one forego his reason in becoming " Chaplain in Ordinary to the Queen, Chaplain to the Tower of London, and Canon of St. Paul's ?" Than this of baptismal regeneration, it seems to me, there is no greater folly taught at Rome. If man only fainted in the fall, a little sprinkled water might revive him; but if he is really " dead in trespasses and sins," what but the Holy Spirit can restore the life which he originally inspired ? To hear Dr. James Hamilton I had nearly as much trou- ble as I had to hear Mr. Melvill. I went one Sunday to Regent Square, but the Doctor was in Scotland ; and his flock was fed by another, with theological whey, thickened with Thames water. I went again, but he had not yet re- turned, and we were treated to a repast of poppies and sun- PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 461 dried cabbage-leaves. The tbird time, however, I was suc- cessful ; and well repaid, I assure you, for my perseverance and former disappointments. Tbe sermon was full of fine thought, adorned with the most beautiful illustrations, and rich in all the attributes of a fervid eloquence. Yet Mr. Brock — a Baptist minister, whom I heard in the evening of the same day — with not a tithe of his talent, has twice as large a congregation. The reason lies in the Doctor's delivery. His voice is good enough, but unskilfully managed ; and he speaks with a strong Scotch accent, not very agreeable to an English ear. He has not much action, and what he has is far from being graceful. He is very earnest, however; preaches from ample notes, but does not read his sermons ; and to an intelligent and cultivated audience, such as his appears to be, his ministry must be both interesting and useful. He belongs to the Free Church of Scotland. The house in which he preaches — a very large and fine one — was built for poor Irving, and is that in which was first manifested the modern "gift of tongues." From that pulpit, just as it now stands, thirty years ago, rolled the most majestic periods that ever charmed the ear of London. What history of a single man is fraught with more of melancholy interest than that of this great Christian orator ? To a princely person he added a most princely mind, well furnished with knowledge, and trained by severest study. But society — nay, even the Church, the most perfect form of human society — does not afford " every man a place according to his faculty." Few ever aspired to the pulpit under greater discouragements than Edward Irving. He was nearly thirty before he found employment as a preacher. He had preached occasionally, but generally so much to the discontent of his hearers, that they gave him no second invi- tation. He was dowered with the double curse of originality 462 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and independence. Conscious of a Divine call, lie deter- mined to preach the gospel ; and despairing of a hearing at home, he resolved on a mission to the heathen. Persia was the chosen scene of his voluntary exile and evangelical labors. He would rely on no patronage but Heaven's, and seek no resources but such as Providence might furnish. Preparatory to his purpose, he buried himself more deeply than ever with books. " Rejected by the living," says, he, " I communed with the dead." At this juncture he was invited to preach for Dr. Andrew Thompson, in Edinburgh. He was informed that Dr. Chalmers, who wanted an assistant, would be one of his hearers. Doubtless he did his best that day; but no mes- sage came from the Glasgow orator. After waiting, in feverish anxiety, more than a fortnight, he stepped on board a steamer, not knowing its destination, to go wherever it might chance to bear him. He was landed at Belfast, and went wandering among the peasantry in the north of Ire- land. Here a letter overtook him from Dr. Chalmers, invit- ing him immediately to Glasgow. He consented to "make trial of his gifts," saying to his illustrious patron, "If your people bear with my preaching, they will be the first." They did bear with it, and Irving became Assistant-Minister of Saint John's. Three years he labored in connection with the most eloquent man in the world. But what star could shine so near the sun ? Discouraged with his small success, he resolved again on the work of a foreign missionary, and fixed on Jamaica as his future home. One morning, as he sat solitary and sorrowful in his room, revolving this matter in his mind, a messenger from London entered, with an invitation to the vacant Caledonian church, in Cross street, Hatton Garden. He came, and found the "■ mere remnant of a wasted congregation," disheartened by long adversity. He entered upon his new ministry with PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 463 zeal and energy. In a very short time, his preaching excited an unprecedented interest in the metropolis, de- scribed by one of the reviewers as " the most extraordinary and extensive infatuation that ever seized upon a com- munity calling itself intelligent/' During the first quarter, the seatholders increased from fifty to five hundred. A lit- tle later, and the rank and intellect of the land thronged his sanctuary. The occasional sermons of Dr. Chalmers and Robert Hall in London did not attract such crowds as now pressed to Edward Irving's weekly services. The Duke of York repeated his visit, and carried with him other mem- bers of the royal family. Brougham took Mackintosh; and Mackintosh, by repeating at a dinner-table a beautiful sen- tence he had heard from Irving in prayer, drew Canning. Noble lords and ladies, noted wits and beauties, popu- lar actors and actresses, reverend bishops and men of learn- ing, with a mixed multitude of all classes, besieged the doors, and stood jammed together in the aisles. Cross street became as fashionable as Drury Lane, and Edward Irving as much the rage as ever Kemble or Kean. To restrain the crowd and prevent casualties, strangers were admitted by ticket, the seatholders entered by a side door, and the preacher often came through a window in the rear, and walked up the pulpit stairs covered with ladies of rank and wealth. " What went they out to see ? a man clothed with soft raiment V Edward Irving was no velvet-mouthed court- chaplain — no florid declaimer on virtue — no flatterer of aristocracy or of intellect. Never were the pretensions of rank more ruthlessly spurned — never were the vices of the rich more sternly denounced — never was the independence of the pulpit more bravely vindicated — than when princes and scholars, statesmen and ecclesiastics, swelled his audience. He drew them into comparison with the great 464 A YEAR IN EUROPE. and good of other times — with sages and heroes, prophets and martyrs, patriots and reformers ; and dwelt with earnest remonstrance on the degeneracy of modern society — the degeneracy of morals, religion, literature, and whatever affects the well-being of man. Yet none had ever a deeper sympathy than he with the sorrows and degradations of his race, or a kindlier compassion for their manifold frailties and follies. With all his severity he mingled much of tender- ness. He discoursed of the fatherhood of God, and the filial outgoings of the human heart. He dwelt more upon duties than doctrines, and preferred practical truths to theological subtilties. No preacher, in any age, was ever more practical. Large and lofty was his idea of the Chris- tian ministry. He thought that, while it deals with the highest of human interests, it should comprehend the whole field of human faculty and experience. To tell men plainly of their duties and delinquencies in all the relations of life, he deemed the greatest favor he could do them. Pride, avarice, unsanctified ambition, political expediency, and perverted literature, he rebuked with the tone of a prophet. He seems to have had the conviction of a personal call to this special work, and nobly did he fulfil his vocation. Mr. Spurgeon's mission is to the masses : Irving' s was to the intellect and aristocracy of London. His first book drew all the critics like bloodhounds after him. Dailies, weeklies, monthlies, and quarterlies, fell fiercely upon their prey; and furious pamphleteers came in armies to their aid. Extracts from the " Orations" appeared side by side with reports of parliamentary proceedings, dispatches from the seat of war, or a canto from Byron's last — worst — poem, then just issued from the press. His logic, his rhetoric, and his theology, were alike assailed. The Times pronounced him a ** meteor" and a "bubble." The pulpit animadverted severely upon his doctrine. The Quarterly denounced his " Babylonish PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 465 diction." The John Bull, Cobbett's Register, and several other publications, heaped upon him unmeasured vitupera- tion and abuse. On the other hand, the New Times, the Morning Chronicle, the Examiner, the Westminster, and a host of pamphlets, were extravagant in eulogy of his elo- quence. All this but heightened the popularity of the preacher. Every great charity solicited his advocacy. His occasional discourses were published ; some of them ex- panded into ponderous volumes. Frequently he preached three hours without a pause, and seldom drew to a conclu- sion without reserving for some future occasion a topic or two started by the way. His physical strength seemed inexhaustible, and his mind was one of unparalleled fer- tility. Meanwhile, the church at Hatton Garden becoming too strait for the audience, this new and spacious one was erected.* About this time appeared some seeds and signs of change, to which his intercourse with Coleridge somewhat contribut- ed. Several interviews with Hartley Frere, Esq., led to the adoption of Mede's system of prophetic interpretation, and the premillennial doctrine of the second advent. The imme- diate product was " Babylon and Infidelity Foredoomed of God," a nobler volume than which, on prophecy, has not appeared in the English tongue. Then came the famous Conference of Prophetic Inquiry, at Albury Park, followed by endless discourses on prophetic themes, and endless con- troversies about prophetic applications. Irving goes to Edinburgh to lecture on the Revelation ; and at five in the morning, for twelve days in succession, the largest church of the metropolis is overcrowded to hear him ; and on one occasion, an accident proves fatal to twenty-six persons, and seriously injures more than a hundred. "I have no hesita- tion," writes Dr. Chalmers, "in saying that it is quite woe- ful. There is power, and richness, and gleams of exquisite 20* 466 A YEAR IN EUROPE. beauty; but withal, a mysticism and extreme allegorization, which must be pernicious to the general cause." His Homi- lies on Baptism enunciated a new doctrine in relation to that sacrament — an anticipation of Oxfordism. His Discourses on the Mutual Responsibility of Church and State proved still more obnoxious to many of his brethren. On all sides he was assailed with the cry of " Heretic !" and within the space of five years, to use his own words, he was " set down as having boxed the whole compass of heresy." But the great error charged against him was his doctrine of the sin- ful humanity of the Redeemer. He held that Christ assumed our fallen nature, with all its liabilities and temptations to evil ; and was preserved from actual sin only by the indwell- ing power of the Godhead. Then came "the last and saddest act of this eventful history." Irving had taught his congre- gation that the miraculous gifts of the Holy GhosiJ*were in- tended to be the perpetual endowment of the Church, and were discontinued only because of her unfaithfulness. De- spairing of the world's conversion by the preaching of the gospel, and looking for supernatural manifestations as the prelude of the glorious advent of our Lord, they began more earnestly to pray for the restoration of these " powers of the world to come." One and another soon began prophesying and speaking in unknown tongues. Mr. Irving instituted an examination into these extraordinary phenomena, satisfied himself of their genuineness, and "did exceedingly rejoice that the bridal attire and jewels of the Church had been found again." His trustees, however, seem to have been less satisfied with the affair. They preferred a charge of irregularity against him, and he was arraigned before the Presbytery of London. His defence, in two speeches, each about four hours long, was one of the noblest ever uttered, and probably the masterpiece of his own masterly eloquence. He warned PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 467 his brethren, that if they cast hirn and his flock out of the church which had been built for him, and yery much upon the credit of his own name, Grod would certainly punish them in the same manner by those who had the secular charge of their churches. This warning has lately been regarded by many as a prophecy. I cannot think that Edward Irving was a prophet. He may have had a sagacious fore- sight of the disruption of the Scottish Kirk, and what he dimly foresaw he boldly foretold. His remembered words must have come home to some of them with signal emphasis, when so many of their number were driven out of their sanctuaries, and the very house from which they had ejected their illustrious brother passed over to the communion of the great secession. " I tell you," he exclaimed, " your vine shall be withered ; I tell you, your cisterns shall be dried up ; I tell you, ye shall have no pasture for your flocks ) I tell you, your flocks shall pine away and die !" The remon- strance was vain. They cast him forth out of the church in which, as he touchingly said, his babes were buried. A year after this, he stood at the bar of the Presbytery of his native town — the Presbytery from which he had received ordination — to answer to a charge of heresy concern- ing the human nature of our Lord. Thousands flocked to the trial of their illustrious countryman. Again he spoke two full hours, with amazing eloquence; and the hearts of the multitude were moved by his speech, " as the trees of the wood are moved by the wind ;" but though the popu- lar sympathy was with him, his brethren cut him off from their connection, and deposed him from the Christian ministry. He remained some weeks in Scotland, preaching daily, and four times a day, to unprecedented crowds in the open air ; and in all the localities which he visited, even now, after the lapse of twenty-five years, his predictions are remembered — his denunciations are repeated — above all, his 468 A YEAR IN EUROPE. loving words are cherished ; and the ploughman still stops in his furrow to point out to the traveller the spot where he heard " Doctor Irving" preach from a cart, and tell how he shook his little Bible at the kirk, and how the people wept at his departure, for there was not the like of him in all the land. He returned to resume his labors in London. Excluded from the pulpit which had been urged on his acceptance, he betook himself now, as he had told the Presbytery he would, to " the open places about the city." Thousands followed him to the field, the park, the public square ; and the places where he stood were made memorable by his appeals. But the shocks which he had suffered were too much even for Edward Irving. The strong man bowed beneath his weight of sorrow. In the sick-chamber he pined with a broken heart. Two years after his deposal, he died at Glasgow. His last words were : "Living or dying, I am the Lord's." In the crypt of the Glasgow cathedral he lies, awaiting " the resurrection of the just," of which he discoursed while living as perhaps no other man since the apostles ever discoursed before ! While in London, I heard Mr. Spurgeon twice in the Great New Park Street Chapel, twice in the immense Music Hall at Surrey Gardens, and once on the day of the National Fast in the Crystal Palace, when he preached to about twenty-five thousand people ; and though I have already said something of him, I beg leave here to devote a few pages to a more critical examination of his eloquence and its wonder- ful effects. Mr. Spurgeon's popularity is as great as ever — rather on the increase. Envy and bigotry from the beginning spoke of him as a meteor — a will-o'-the-wisp — stared at by the multitude, but soon to explode and disappear. But all these prophecies have failed, and Mr. Spurgeon never had a larger PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 469 audience than he has now. Formerly only the lower classes crowded his chapel ; now every Sabbath finds the aristocracy of West End, clergymen of the Establishment, members of Parliament, and noble lords and ladies, occupying reserved seats around the desk at Surrey Gardens. Perhaps no man ever had a firmer hold upon the public heart of London than Mr. Spurgeon has at this moment ; and envy and bigotry may frown, and sneer, and criticise, and calumniate ; but this young man, with all his faults — and no just critic will deny him many of them — with Grod to help as hitherto he manifestly has helped him, will outlive the satires of his ene- mies, and shine among those who have turned many to righteousness, when their lamp has gone out in darkness. But what is the secret of his success ? Whence his great popularity ? Is there any thing peculiar in the man himself, in his manner, or his doctrines, or the circumstances of his ministry ? I will endeavor to answer these questions. Mr. Spurgeon is certainly not indebted for his popularity to his origin, for he is of humble birth ; nor to the influence of his sect, for the Anabaptists are among the least esteemed of all the dissenting bodies in England. Nor is it to be ascribed to a fine person or agreeable manners ; for he is a great, fat, rotund, overgrown boy, awkward in action, un- handsome in features, and scarcely tidy in dress ; a man whom no lady would love at sight ; more likely to be taken for a butcher than a preacher; apparently feasting more on roast-beef and plum-pudding than on "the bread that cometh down from heaven." Nor does he show a high degree of mental culture, or any thing like refinement of taste ; for his mind has manifestly never been closely schooled in metaphy- sical or dialectic studies, and frequently he is offensively coarse and vulgar in his style. Nor is his logic or his rheto- ric of a superior character; for of the former he has, properly speaking, little or none, and the latter is as full of faults as 470 A YEAR IN EUROPE. it is of figures. Nor is lie guilty of any unusual originality, profundity, or brilliancy of thought ; for he never utters any thing new, or any thing remarkably striking. Nor has he a very charming voice ; for though it is clear and strong, it is neither varied nor musical, having great volume but little compass — not at all what you would call an oratorical voice — monotonous and inflexible, incapable alike of majesty and of tenderness. ■ Nor is it fine action ; for in this department he is greatly inferior to many whom I know in the American pulpit who have never attained to a tenth part of his cele- brity ; and must have been vastly excelled by George White- field and Edward Irving, with both of whom he has so often been compared by an undiscriminating press. Not in any nor in all of these lies the power of Mr. Spurgeon ; but it does lie, if I mistake not, in the following facts : 1. He is quite natural. — In the pulpit he seems perfectly at home, and fears none but God. Free from all embarrass- ment of timidity, and entirely self-possessed, he talks to his hearers like a friend. Even in his most impassioned utter- ances, there is no pulpit tone, no clerical mannerism, nothing that you might not look for in the secular orator, or the scientific lecturer. 2. He is very simple. — He says nothing that the youngest and most illiterate of his hearers cannot perfectly under- stand. His language is good idiomatic Saxon. There are no Latinisms, no Germanisms, no long and difficult words, no tangled and high-pressure sentences — only such as may instantly be comprehended by the boot-black and the news- boy. He never aims at ornament, nor uses two words where one will answer. In this respect he resembles Wesley and Whitefield. 3. He is Tiiglily dramatic. — Every thing lives, moves, and speaks in his sermons. The whole discourse, indeed, is only a series of pictures, brought vividly before the audience. PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 471 There are no cold and dry abstractions. Every truth is clothed with life and power. Metaphors and similes crowd upon one another as thick as Jeremy Taylor's or Edward Irving'sj though not as graceful as the former, nor as gor- geous as the latter. But his chief forte is the apostrophe, in the use of which certainly he has seldom been excelled. His dramatic power, though inferior undoubtedly to Whitefield's or Irving' s, is confessedly very great. 4. He is manifestly in earnest. — No man perhaps was ever more so. He seems to put his whole soul into every sermon. He speaks as if he stood with his audience upon a trembling- point between heaven and hell. His great desire evidently is to do God's work well, and save as many souls as he can. Hence that directness of application, that fervid hortatory style, which rivets the attention, forces home the truth, and makes every hearer feel himself personally addressed by the preacher. Hence also that boldness and fidelity which rebukes sin in high places, and speaks to " my noble lords and ladies" as plainly as to the cab-driver and the kitchen- maid. The last time that I heard him, the Duchess of Sutherland was present, and several other noble personages, who perhaps had never listened to a dissenting preacher before ; and if he did not deal faithfully with their souls that day, then Nathan did not deal faithfully with David, nor Paul with Felix or Agrippa. 0, but he did thresh them with the gospel flail ! 0, but he did grind them, as with millstones, between the two tables of the law ! He seemed to draw the string more tightly, and point the arrow more accurately, because he was aiming high. You will read these passages some day in his reported sermons. I never heard any thing nobler from human lips. It was worthy of an Elijah or a Peter ! 5. Ih preacJies the doctrines of the gospel. — Human de- pravity, Christ crucified, justification by faith, spiritual 472 A YEAR IN EUROPE. regeneration, and judgment to come, are his constant themes. It is the good old gospel, and nothing new, that he keeps before the people. I do not say, for I do not think, that he preaches this good old gospel in the very best form. All wheat has chaff. Mr. Spurgeon preaches Calvinism gone to seed. But among the chaff there is so much wheat, that hungry souls cannot fail of nourishment under his ministry. In short, although he preaches Calvinism in a form which would be offensive to nine-tenths of the Calvinists of Chris- tendom, he preaches Arminianism very much more. He is theoretically a Calvinist, but practically an Arminian. He has a Calvinistic head, but an Arminian heart; and his heart is so much greater than his head that it always carries the day. He invariably tells the sinner that he can do nothing, and must wait for God to do all; but then he falls to and urges him with such irresistible energy to immediate repentance and faith in Christ, that the poor man fortunately forgets the former statement, and is carried captive by the preacher's impetuous exhortation. Thus Mr. Spurgeon is constantly contradicting himself in the most remarkable manner; and it seems strange to me that every hearer does not see the incompatibility of his theory and his practice. In one of the sermons to which I listened, after having stated the doctrine of predestination and election in the strongest possible form, he exhorted his hearers with a most genial warmth to turn immediately to God ; when all at once he seemed to recollect himself, but the heart still carried it over the head, and he exclaimed : " You may accuse me of preaching Arminianism : I care not — it is what I love to preach, and am bound to preach, and will, by the help of God !" and still he went on with greater fervor than ever. 6. But the best of all is, God is until Mm. — Who can doubt it? This is the chief reason of his success. It is not by might nor by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord. Mr. PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 473 Spui'geon is a sincere and simple-hearted man, deeply con- cerned for the salvation of his fellow-men, and God is own- ing and blessing his labors. And why not ? If he scatters some tares, he scatters also, and much more plentifully, " the good seed of the kingdom." If he builds with " wood, hay, stubble," he yet builds upon the true foundation, " which is Christ Jesus/' and "gold, silver, and precious stones" adorn the superstructure. Was not the Saviour's immediate har- binger a rough man of the desert ? u Not many wise, noble, mighty are called." Is it not now in this respect much as in the days of Paul ? How many such instances are re- corded in the annals of Methodism ! God sends by whom he will, and often honors his truth with a blessing, though it be mixed with error. Amen ; and let him be anathema who dares to call the Divine Wisdom to account for such disorderly proceedings ! Away with your silly cant about pulpit propriety and refinement ! Away with your bigoted formalism, which would hinder the free course of the gospel ! I was speaking of Dr. McNeil in Italy, when an Englishman exclaimed, " But he is a firebrand in the Church!" This is what the Church needs : would to God there were more such ! The Church must be set on fire, no matter who bears the torch, or in what manner ! Thank God, Mr. Spurgeon, with all his faults, has done a great work in London ; and the indirect result, perhaps, is the greater part of the good. Who has not heard of the current series of discourses to the poor in Exeter Hall ? I listened to one of them, by the Hon. and Rev. Hugh Stowell. The immense room was crowded to its utmost capacity — not less than six thousand hearers : while the Rev. gentleman was delivering, without notes, one of the most eloquent and fervent appeals for God I ever heard, a city missionary of the Establishment was hold- ing forth in the street to the crowd that could not effect an entrance. All this, and much more of the same sort, has 474 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the hearty concurrence and sanction of the Bishop of London. Who has waked up this feeling among the clergy ? They have seen what crowds are following Mr. Spurgeon, and they cannot consent to be outdone by the Dissenters ; and, some from fear, and some from shame, and some from the love of souls, glad of the occasion and the opportunity, they are putting forth their might in this holy work; and now, blessed be God ! again may it be said in London, " the poor have the gospel preached to them." And the flame which these " firebrands" have kindled is spreading over the king- dom, and hundreds of sermons are preached every Lord's day in the open air. I spent a Sabbath in Clifton, the beau- tiful suburb of Bristol. In the morning I heard a delightful extempore sermon from the Rev. Mr. Brock, of Christ Church. In the afternoon, passing across Durdham Down, I found the same gentleman preaching without his gown to an immense crowd of people, under a cluster of elms. Gro on, Mr. Spurgeon, and don't be afraid of mingling too many Arminian appeals with your Calvinistic dogmas ! You are doing a good work ; and Cod prosper your ministry ! PLEASANT VARIETIES. 475 CHAPTER XXXV. PLEASANT VARIETIES. THE BROWNS RICHMOND HILL THOMSON BUSHY PARK HAMPTON COURT — CARDINAL WOLSEY — ROYAL RESIDENTS — VARIETIES — GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY OFFICIAL DIGNITY CLEVEDON MYRTLE COT- TAGE PROMENADE AND PROSPECT CLEVEDON COURT WRINGTON WESTON SUPER MARE INTERESTING ANTIQUITIES. Among the many interesting people with whom I became acquainted through the kindness of Dr. and Mrs. Cross, were Mr. and Mrs. Brown, of Wimbledon Park, about eight miles from London. Having spent a delightful afternoon at their charming residence, we made an engagement for a second visit, with an excursion to Hampton Court. The next week we enjoyed that promised pleasure, and here is a skeleton- history of the day. Never blessed the metropolis a more beautiful morning. No fog enveloped the towers and domes of the city; and as we rushed along the South-western Railway, the bright sun- shine and the balmy wind, with the rich tints of the autumn foliage, brought back sweet visions of the fair Salernian shores. At Putney, Mr. Brown met us, with two carriages, and coachmen and footmen in splendid livery, ready to devote the day to the gratification of his guests. We were soon en route for the royal seat, over Putney Heath and Wimbledon 476 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Common, past many a charming villa, and among the rest the stately mansion of the Duchess of Gloucester. Then we traversed the breadth of Richmond Park — eight miles from gate to gate, twenty-four in circuit; and whole herds of young deer bounded off to the right and the left as we ap- proached, while their more experienced sires and dams stood and gazed at us without fear, or lay quietly upon the soft grass. Attaining the summit of Richmond Hill, we enjoyed a coup d'oeil scarcely surpassed in Europe. To the south and east spread the vast down, with here and there a windmill swinging its huge arms in the air, and environed on all sides with the splendid country-seats of the London gentry. To the north-east, ten miles distant, Westminster Abbey, the Victoria Tower, the dome of Saint Paul's, and a whole forest of church steeples, rose through the purple mist, like a fleet at sea. Still more remote, Harrow on the Hill in the north, and Windsor Castle in the north-west, stood out in clear relief against the horizon. At our feet, through as fine a landscape as ever blessed the vision of man, flowed the Thames, encompassing many a green island, with a young steamer in the distance, and scores of white swans floating gracefully upon its bosom. On the brow of the hill, overlooking a sweet vale, in which a village reposed, we found the following lines upon a board, hung upon an elm : LINES ON JAMES THOMSON, The Poet of Nature. Ye who from London's smoke and turmoil fly, To seek a purer air and brighter sky, Think of the bard who dwells in yonder dell, Who sang so sweetly what he loved so well: Think, as you gaze on these luxuriant bowers, Here Thomson loved the sunshine and the flowers — He who could paint in all their varied forms, April's young bloom, December's dreary storms. PLEASANT VARIETIES. 477 By yon fair stream, which calmly glides along, Pure as his life, and lovely as his song, There oft he roved : in yonder churchyard lies All of the deathless bard that ever dies ; For here his gentle spirit lingers still, In yon sweet vale, on this enchanted hill, Flinging a holier interest o'er the grove, Stirring the heart to poetry and love, Bidding us prize the favorite scenes he trod, And view in nature's beauties nature's God. This, then, is classic ground. Here the author of The Seasons, "the laziest and best-natured of mortal men," used to saunter about with his hands in his pockets, or sit and dream on the sunny side of the hill. " Never before or since," says the late Hugh Miller, "was there a man of genius wrought out of such mild and sluggish elements as James Thomson." Yet he was a kind-hearted, unselfish, and lovable man, devoted to his friends, and binding them to himself with the strongest ties of affection. Poor Collins, a man of warm and genial heart, came and lived at Rich- mond for the sake of his society; and when the poet died, quitted the place for ever. Shenstone also loved him well, and felt life grow darker at his departure ; and Quin wept for him no feigned tears on the boards of the theatre. Thomson is well portrayed by Lord Lyttleton in the stanza, "by another hand," included in "The Castle of Indolence:" "A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard beseems, Who, void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, On virtue still, and nature's passing themes, Poured forth his unpremeditated strain. The world forsaking with a calm disdain, Here laughed he careless in his easy seat ; Here quaffed, encircled with the joyous train, Oft moralizing sage : his ditty sweet, He loathed much to write, ne cared to repeat." 478 A YEAR IN EUROPE. And these were his favorite haunts, where he wandered so often, his imagination full of many-colored conceptions, with a quiet eye noting every change which threw its tints of gloom or gladness over the diversified prospect, and the images of beauty sank into his quiescent mind, as the silent shower sinks into the crannies and fissures of the soil, to come gushing out at some future day, in those springs of poetry which so sparkle in " The Seasons," or that glide in such quiet yet lustrous beauty in that most finished of Eng- lish poems, " The Castle of Indolence." It is a spot where one may learn the meaning of his own sweet lines — "The love of nature works, And warms the bosom, till, at last sublimed To rapture and enthusiastic heat, We feel the present Deity, and taste The joy of God to see a happy world." But I must not tarry here dreaming of Thomson. Down the hill, through the fair town of Richmond, over the Thames, past Twickenham and Hampton Wick, the villa of Pope, the palace of Walpole, and many a scene of rural beauty ; and then by an iron gate we enter Bushy Park, and drive through an avenue of stately chestnuts, a mile in length, five rows on either hand, and innumera- ble deer grazing in quiet security beneath their ample shade. These chestnuts are said to present in the blooming-season, as one might well conceive, an extremely fine appearance ; and on any pleasant Sabbath during the summer, thousands of people may be seen sitting or strolling in the park, which is always open to the public, affording a convenient retreat from the din and dust of the metropolis. On our right we caught a glimpse of Bushy Lodge — a large brick building, looking very much like an English farm-house of the better class — where William the Fourth was residing when the messenger came to hail him " King of Great PLEASANT VARIETIES. 479 Britain/' and where the Queen Dowager Adelaide breathed out her departing soul to its Maker. At the south end of the avenue is a fountain surrounded by a circular lake, and surmounted by a bronze statue of the goddess Diana, which adds much to the beauty of the prospect. Now we enter the grounds of Hampton Court. Hard by the gate is the " Maze," probably the very same that existed here in the days of Henry the Eighth — "A mighty maze, but not without a plan" — where you may walk a mile within half an acre; and the children, of whom there were six in our company — one or two "of larger growth" — had rare sport in misleading one another, as they sought their way to the centre. Then we traverse " The Wilderness" — ten acres of large trees and thick shrubbery, chiefly evergreen, with fragrant winding walks, "nieet place for whispering lovers." Next are the gardens, which I think are equal to any that I saw upon the Continent, adorned with yew, fir, balsam, myrtle, laurel, cedar, and cypress, with long avenues of elms and limes, in- terspersed with clambering vines, and rose-trees spreading over the walls, and numerous parterres of flowers filling the air with sweetness. In front of the palace is an artificial lake, full of gold-fish, the largest I have seen ; with a great number of swans, black and white, sailing gracefully upon its surface. There is a broad terrace, nearly a mile in length, having a fine iron railing, and constructed by order of William the Third, where the visitor may stroll along the Thames — not polluted here with the vomit of gas-houses, dye-houses, slaughter-houses, the sewers of the city, and all hideous abominations, but pure and pellucid as our own Cumberland, where it gushes from the mountains of Ken- tucky. In a more private part of the grounds, adjoining the palace, and enclosed by an extra wall, is " Queen Mary's 480 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Bower" — so called, though it seems to have been there in the time of Charles the Second, and may have sheltered even Nell Gwynne from the sunbeams ; with the remains of Queen Mary's botanical collection, and the largest grape- vine in England — perhaps the largest in Europe — the fruit of which is preserved for Her Majesty's exclusive use. The palace covers eight acres of ground, and contains one thou- sand and ninety-three paintings, many of which are very large, and some exceedingly fine ; but I shall leave the de- scription of these and the other works of art to a taste more , cultivated and a pen more capable than my own. Hampton Court was originally built by Cardinal Wolsey. At the summit of his power, desiring to have a palace suita- ble to his rank, and to locate the structure in a healthy place, he employed the most eminent physicians in England, and called in the aid of six learned doctors from Padua, to select the best site within twenty miles of London. After thorough examination, they agreed in recommending Hamp- ton Parish; and the Cardinal, upon the faith of their report, proceeded to bargain with the Prior of Saint John's for a lease of the manor. He was a man of taste, and hav- ing studied the science of architecture, was able to furnish a plan of the building from his own designs ; and in a very short time he had provided himself a residence surpassing in magnitude and splendor any of the royal palaces in Eng- land. Here he lived in a style of magnificence and luxury equalled only by the profligacy of his manners. Having absolutely engrossed the royal favor, he ruled the country and the king. His pride and ostentation were unbounded-; but they were equalled by his ambition and his covetousness. If he was liberal in the patronage of learning, and the en- dowment of benevolent institutions, he seems to have been influenced in these instances, as in others, by the desire of personal aggrandizement and the love of fame. For a time, PLEASANT VARIETIES. 481 no bad man was more successful. In the plenitude of his power, he retained no less than eight hundred persons in his suite, and his revenues exceeded those of the Crown. The banquets and masques, so prevalent at that period, were nowhere more magnificently ordered than at Hampton Court; and the vast establishment of the luxurious Cardinal was none too extensive for the accommodation of the nume- rous guests frequently entertained at his festive board. But such magnificence could not escape the lash of the satirist; and Kenton sings in quaint old verse of this superb mansion — "With turrettes and with toures, With halles and "with boures, Stretching to the starres, With glass windows and barres ; Hanging about their walles Clothes of golde and palles, Arras of ryche arraye Fresh as floures in Maye ;" and then adds : " The kynges court Should have the excellence ; But Hampton Court Hath the preeminence ; And Yorkes place, With my Lord's grace, To whose magnificence Is all the confluence, States and applications, Embassies of all nations." And royal envy, as might be supposed, was not slower than the poet's satire. The King — Henry the Eighth — de- manded of the proprietor of Hampton Court what was his motive in building a palace more magnificent than his own. The ready answer was, "I desire to furnish a residence 21 482 A YEAR IN EUROPE. worthy of so great a monarch, and it is now at the disposal of your Majesty." "I accept it," replied the King, " and give you the manor of Richmond in return." Thus the Cardinal's palace hecame the property of the Crown. Hence poor Anne Boleyn went to the scaffold. Here Queen Jane Seymour gave birth to Edward the Sixth, and died a few days afterward. Here the young king dwelt with the Pro- tector Somerset, when the council threatened to take him away by force, and the household and the populace armed for his defence. Here Queen Mary and Philip of Spain " passed their honeymoon in gloomy retirement," and took their Christmas supper "in the great hall illuminated with a thousand lamps." Here the Princess Elizabeth heard matins in the Queen's closet, " attired in a robe of white satin, strung all over with large pearls." Here she after- ward "sat with their Majesties in a grand spectacle of jousting," when " two hundred lances were broken." Here she held her court when she became queen, imitating to some extent the magnificence and luxury of Henry the Eighth. Here occurred the grand Conference of James the First with the Puritan leaders, when in his own opinion he " peppered them soundly." Here Charles the First and his queen, Henrietta, sought refuge from the plague, and subsequently from the insurgent apprentices of London. Here the unhappy king was kept in splendid captivity by the army nearly three months, till he found means of escape to the Isle of Wight. Here Oliver Cromwell took up his abode after Charles was beheaded, and celebrated the mar- riage of one daughter and the funeral of another. Charles the Second and James the Second also resided at Hampton Court ; William the Third made large restorations and addi- tions to the palace, and laid out the parks and gardens in their present form; and Mary, his illustrious queen, filled one entire room with beautiful embroidery, Wrought by her PLEASANT VARIETIES. 483 own hands, and those of her maids of honor. G-eorge the First sometimes held his court here; and George the Second and Queen Caroline were the last royal occupants. For our wanderings through the spacious and splendid apartments — for our pleasant skiff- excursion clown the Thames to Ditton, with its quaint old church and tower — for our entertainment at the Swan, the humor of our Lyberian waiter, and the " lively" character of the cheese — for an account of Kingstone, so called because it possesses, well preserved, the stone on which the kings of England were anciently crowned — the Koyal Gardens at Kew, with their tropical plants and flowers, and beautiful collection of palms — the country for miles and miles brilliantly lighted with gas, as we returned at eventide across the moor to Wimble- don Park — the courtesy and hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. Brown, their magnificent establishment, their numerous attendants, and their amiable children — also for the scribe's perambulations through the seventeen colleges of Cambridge, and the twenty-four colleges of Oxford — the home and haunts of Shakspeare, Charlecote Park, Warwick Castle, what remains of Kenilworth, and the huge relics of the mighty Guy — a visit to the Crystal Palace, to the unlaunch- able Leviathan, to the Zoological Gardens, containing speci- mens of all that walks, or creeps, or swims, or flies — a week of unalloyed enjoyment at the princely mansion of Mr. Salt- marshe in Berkshire, the excellent Mrs. Saltmarshe's ser- mons to the poor, the pious and amiable Miss Watson, and many other unforgetable matters — for all this the reader is affectionately exhorted to wait with exemplary patience till he sees the future poem, with which the writer's soul is painfully pregnant. Let us away to Somersetshire. What a noble line is this Great Western Railway ! by far the best I ever travelled, 484 A YEAR IN EUROPE either in Europe or America. The carriages, however, are not so comfortable as some I have occupied. The first-class •will do very well ; but most respectable people travel in the second ; and I like, when I can, to be with the majority. As we are adjusting ourselves in those cushionless seats at Bath, a very neat-looking lady and gentleman apply to the guard for a place in the first-class. That functionary opens the door of a carriage in which sits a solitary gentleman. The solitary gentleman waves his hand to the guard, and bows to the new-comers in a most significant and . solemn manner. " I dare say," says the guard in an undertone, at the same time shutting the door, " I can find you a seat in another carriage." " But why not in this ?" inquired the gentleman with the lady; and then, addressing himself to the solitary occupant within, " You have not engaged the whole carriage, have you, sir ?" The solitary occupant within replies, " The guard will find you- seats elsewhere, sir." " But why not here ?" " The guard will show you seats, sir." " The train is going to start ! this way, sir ! be quick !" shouts the guard. " Quick, madam !''* cries the station-master ; u anywhere ! anywhere !" So, with a first- class ticket, the lady and gentleman were hustled into a second-class car, and the latter was obliged to sit with a bandbox on his kne^s all the way to Bristol. Arriving there, the majestic gentleman whom they had left alone in his glory, stepped out like very royalty upon the platform, drew a huge gold watch from his pocket, and exclaimed with most im- pressive emphasis, " One minute behind time !" Out came the watches of all the officials, who gathered around the im- personated magnificence, making most deferential compari- sons of their respective time-pieces with his ; while a porter ran to call a cab, and half-a-dozen more assisted His Serene Highness to his seat, and every official upon the platform PLEASANT VARIETIES. 485 touched his hat as the human Behemoth rode away. This was a Director; and such in England is the reverence paid to official dignity and wealth ! Half an hour more, and we are at Clevedon, a pretty watering-place on the Bristol Channel. Walking from the station to the hotel, I passed a small cottage, which an amateur was engaged in sketching. I wondered what for, for there was nothing remarkable in its appearance, and I saw many prettier every day. A party of ladies came' by, one of whom — a tall girl, singularly handsome, with dark, piercing eyes — said to her companions, " I see people will keep ■sketching that ugly little cottage, which Coleridge never did live in, though everybody says he did." So this, it seems, is the immortal Myrtle Cottage. I know not on what author- ity the beautiful young lady negatived the common tradition, and shall leave her to settle the controversy with Cottle, who states that Coleridge did live there ; and adds that the house " had the advantage of being but one story high ; and as the rent was only five pounds per annum, and the taxes naught, Mr. C. bad the satisfaction of knowing that by fairly mounting his Pegasus, he could write as many verses in a week as would pay his rent for a year." And thus the poet himself sings of his rural home : "Low was our pretty cot: our tallest rose Peeped at the chamber window. We could hear, At silent noon, at eve, and early morn, The sea's faint murmur. In the open air Our myrtles blossomed; and across the porch Thick jasmines twined. The little landscape round Was green and woody, and refreshed the eye. It was a spot which you might aptly call The valley of seclusion !" — Sibylline Leaves. At the Royal Hotel I found comfortable quarters and great civility. It was pleasant to stroll out into the little garden 486 A YEAR IN EUROPE. toward the sea, and find its well-kept lawn tastefully inter- spersed with the prettiest and sweetest flowers. Passing thence through a little iron gate, I ascended by a steep path to the top of Dial Hill, whence I could look down upon the town spread out like a map at my feet. The houses — some small and handsome, others large and comfortable — are de- tached and irregular, like the ground on which they are built. The roads wind gracefully around the hills, across which, and through the shadowy copsewood, runs many a pleasant footpath. Turn where you will, the eye reposes upon a landscape of living beauty. How charming is the plain, stretching away to the left, in rich luxuriance of tree and pasturage, till its length is lost in the hazy summer sky; its breadth girded by a noble range of hills, along whose base and sides the little villages repose like flocks of sheep ! How delightful is the sea-view on the right, with its beautiful islands, and white towering light-houses, and the blue moun- tains of South Wales beyond ! And there go the ships, ten miles distant, down the Channel, toward the great ocean, toward my western home, and my fair-haired prattler — bearing many a heart sad from the recent farewell, or buoy- ant with the hope of happy meetings. God speed their way ! I pursue my walk along the fragrant hill-side. The dew still lingers on the graceful fern-leaves, and bends the sweet wild rose upon its slender stem. Whether from the land or the sea, I know not, but a fresher, purer, more enlivening air I never breathed. I soon enter a grove of firs and larches, carpeted with the greenest and softest grass, and an Italian sky is smiling through the openings of the dewy branches. And here is Bella Vista — worthy of its name. There is many a view in England, sung by poets and praised by tourists, which strangers will go fifty miles to see, and whose name is familiar to the reading; world as a household PLEASANT VARIETIES. 487 word, which yet can bear no comparison with this; and I scarcely saw any thing of the sort more beautiful on the Continent. The rock on which I stand overhangs the Wal- ton Valley, three hundred feet below ; and the gray old cas- tle yonder, an embattled ruin of vast extent, and the church frequented by former generations, now grass-grown and deso- late, seem to invite me to their communion ; but I dare not descend— I have shaken hands with antiquity. How sooth- ingly comes the tinkle of the sheep-bell from the quiet vale; and how inspiring in its majesty the voice of " the sounding sea" along the rocky shore ! I sit, and gaze, and listen, and my soul is feasting on sad and pleasant memories ; for many years have passed since I visited these dear haunts of my childhood, and in a few more days I must bid them adieu for ever. The manor of Clevedon is mentioned in Doomsday Book, I believe, as being held by Matthew de Moretanie, under William the Conqueror. The present manor-house — Cleve- don Court, as it is called — was built in the reign of Edward II., when the Clevedon family held the manor. It is one of the most beautiful specimens of those antique mansions for which Somersetshire is so particularly famed. The modern millionaire may rear himself a palace of vast dimensions, and fill it with all that is costly in art and all that is exquisite in luxury; but while its magnitude excites our marvel, and its magnificence elicits our admiration, one thing the wealth of India cannot purchase for it — the veneration of the beholder. Now this feeling the ancient home which I am regarding calls forth in an unusual degree, not for its costliness or its grandeur, but for its calm and quiet aspect, and its solemn preachings of the past. Embosomed among shadowy trees, it reposes with an air of confidence in the sheltering strength of the hills above it; from the heights of which, nearly two thousand years ago, the Roman sentinel, gazing as I do, at 488 A YEAR IN EUROPE. sunset, upon the glowing sea and the glorious Cambrian shore, must have forgotten for the moment the classic beauty of his own land and the scenery of his native valley. I know not whether the present proprietor of Clevedon Court has a family; but if so, why are those shady walks so silent, and those luxuriant flowers left to perish where they bloomed ? Those trees whose leaves the summer wind is wakening to a sound which falls on the ear with such a mournful cadence, need the accompaniment of merry voices. Those roses and creepers, which, like other fair things, pre- suming upon their beauty, and reckless of all restraint, are muffling up the oriel windows and wreathing them into bowers of fragrance, require the training hand and the prun- ing-knife " to check their wild luxuriance." In a word, Clevedon Court answers to my beau-ideal of an English home — the home of "A fine old English gentleman, All of the olden time." And now let us go to Wrington. It is only six miles, and on several accounts well worth seeing. The church tower, rising to a height of one hundred and forty feet, and surmounted by sixteen elegant Gothic turrets, is regarded as one of the most beautiful in the kingdom. There was origi- nally a pulpit attached to the wall outside of the church, as at St. Stephen's cathedral in Vienna, so that our English forefathers must have had occasional outdoor preaching, as well as the present generation. In that humble thatched cottage adjoining the church was born John Locke, the author of the immortal " Essay on the Human Understand- ing." Yonder, on the slope of that pretty hill, is Barley Wood, the residence of Hannah More and her sisters. From the picturesque scenery around she often drew her in- spiration, and many passages in her life and writings refer to PLEASANT VARIETIES. 489 fcliis pleasant locality. That spreading yew in the church- yard shades a monument to her memory ; but her pen has reared for her a better and more durable monument in the hearts of the wise and good. That neat little chapel, now occupied by the Independents, was originally built for Richard Allein ; and there for many years, in the times which tried men's souls, he fed the flock of Christ. In 1662 he was ejected from the neighboring living of Butcombe, and from the Church of England; but his writings and the fruits of his ministry are a lasting testimony to his piety and worth. His name will live as long as those of John Locke and Hannah More. Few villages can boast of such a trio. Away for Weston Super Mare, twelve miles farther down the Channel. When I knew this place thirty-two years ago, it was a village of not more than six or seven hundred souls, and they chiefly fishermen and yeomen ; now it has a popu- lation of nearly as many thousand, and is one of the most fashionable resorts in the west of England. It is situated on the crescent of a broad bay which opens to the west, with a beautiful beach and fine facilities for bathing ; protected on the north and the south by parallel ranges of hills, and enjoying the most delightful climate to be found anywhere in this island. My uncle lived here, my father's only brother; and before the emigration of our family, I was often at his house to visit my little cousins. I well remember the last of these pleasant reunions, and how earnestly my dear uncle, in family prayer, implored for us the Divine protec- tion in our prospective voyage, and besought that we might meet at last in heaven. The good old man has long been waiting for us in that Better Land, and my aunt, now eighty- nine years of age, lingers in cheerful hope on this side the dividing stream, and talks of her removal as one talks of a pleasant journey. "0 yes," said she, "your uncle Edmund went safe ; never was there a happier death-bed. I am wait- 21* 490 A YEAR IN EUROPE. ing for ray summons, not anxious, but ready : I have nothing to do but to die." Then she showed me all my uncle's class-tickets, and her own, for more than fifty years, pasted in a book and carefully preserved — a relic worth having, which I have brought with me to America. Will the reader pardon me if I say a word or two about a most interesting work of antiquity ? Worlbury Hill is a long and narrow ridge, running far out into the Channel, and forming a bold promontory above this beautiful town. On the top of this promontory is-a remarkable fortification, enclosing the remains of dwellings which must be referred to a period long anterior to the Roman occupation of Britain. Some twenty or thirty acres of ground are encircled by two huge walls of stone, which are surrounded by no less than seven successive ditches. Within the walls are traces of ancient habitations, and many tombs have been exca- vated, the occupants of which manifestly fell in battle. At Kewstoke, on the northern side, is a flight of rude steps, over two hundred in number, cut in the side of the hill, and conducting to the entrenchment upon its summit. These works are attributed, with some probability, to the ancient inhabitants of the island, who are believed to have worked the neighboring mines, and furnished the Phoenician mer- chants with " the chief things of the ancient mountains, and the precious things of the everlasting hills," three thousand years ago. These mines had been wrought for centuries before the invasion by Julius Caesar; and it is not improbable that the zinc which formed a component part of the bronzes lately exhumed from the buried palaces of Nineveh was dug from the Mendip hills. There are similar fortifications, to the number of thirty-six, forming a perfect chain, more than fifty miles in circuit around this rich mineral region; and all so located that they could easily communicate one with another by signals along the whole length of the line. PLEASANT VARIETIES. 491 Though the Romans and the Danes successively availed themselves of these entrenchments, they are of a character totally different from those which are of Eoman or Danish origin, and must be referred to another people and an earlier date. 492 A YEAR IN EUROPE. CHAPTER XXXVI. SAUNTER I NGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. TENDER RECOLLECTIONS UPHILL THE OLD CHURCH ANCIENT FOR- TIFICATIONS THE STEEP HOLMES A LEGEND THE FLAT HOLMES BLEADON — HOBBS'S BOAT LYMPSHAM CHURCH AND RECTORY BRENT KNOLL DELIGHTFUL VIEW BURNHAM AND THE REST. I remained a month in Somersetshire, peripatizing ex- tensively. A staff in my hand, a penny roll in my pocket, and a prospective glass to aid my imperfect vision, whenever the weather was fine, I went forth in the early morning, and spent the livelong clay in wandering over fields, and moors, and downs, and strands, all teeming with holy memories; and my solitary musings were fraught with the sweetest sad- ness, as I retraced the footsteps of my childhood, and gazed upon a thousand objects which were familiar to these eyes before they were dimmed with sorrow- From such poetic pilgrimages I often returned thoroughly fatigued at even- tide ; but the following day, with " youth renewed like the eagle's," I was out upon the blooming meadows and the breezy hills, living over again the blessed days of innocence, and watering with tears of love the flowers whose ancestors my careless feet had crushed forty years ago. Somersetshire has some of the finest scenery in England, and the archaeolo- gist and ecclesiologist will find abundant interest in its Belgic and Roman remains, and its grand old Norman SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 493 churches ; but to me all was doubly beautiful from the asso- ciations of memory, and every hedge and tree and brook looked like a long-lost friend recovered, and the very dust that gathered on my sandals, as I paced the sultry street, I would fain have treasured as a sacred thing. Nothing could be more inspiring than the air, or more pleasing than the view, as I strayed southward along the strand, one bright morning in August, from Weston Super Mare. How often in other years, with some who have long been in their graves, I trod these golden sands, gathering the shells and sea-bottles cast up by the friendly tide ! A walk of three miles brought me to the residence of Esquire Knyfton, in the beautiful village of Uphill. It is a modern building, in imitation of the grand old English mansions, with lofty tower, and turreted porch, and massive buttresses, and battlemented parapet, and mullioned and transomed windows, having a fine lawn in front, with a variety of flowers and shrubbery, enclosed by a well-clipped hawthorn hedge and a double range of overshadowing elms — a place which might well make the proprietor wish for " many days I" A little farther on I came to the village church — a beautiful structure— -with its snug parsonage adjoining, thickly covered with roses, myrtles, jessamines, and honey- suckles — a true picture of English home scenery, which in the wide world for comfort and tranquillity is unsurpassed. This was once the residence of that sweet bard of nature, William Lisle Bowles ; and thus he alludes to Uphill in his " Days Departed :" " I was a child when first I heard the sound Of the great sea. 'Twas night, and journeying far, "We were belated on our road, 'mid scenes New and unknown — a mother and her child, Now first in this wide world a wanderer. My father came, the pastor of the church 494 A YEAR IN EUROPE. That crowns the high hill-crest above the sea : When, as the wheels went slow, and the still night Came down, a low uncertain sound was heard, Not like the wind. ' Listen !' my mother said, ' It is the sea ! Listen ! it is the sea !' My head was resting on her lap — I woke — I heard the sound, and closer pressed her side." " The church that crowns the high hill-crest" is one of the greatest curiosities in Somersetshire — a quaint old Norman building, consisting of a nave, a chancel, a tower, and a porch, with only three very small windows, casting a light sufficiently "dim" to he "religious." There is no record of its origin, hut local tradition says it was built by Beelzebub. It does not become a stranger to impugn such authority, especially as tradition is the only basis of more than half our history. Moreover, the situation, upon a height almost inaccessible, and quite remote from the village, may be deemed some confirmation of the popular account. The masons began building, it is said, at the foot of the hill; but the work they did by day was regularly removed by night; till, at lengthy tired of the unequal contest, they gave over the effort; and the church was completed just where the devil wanted it ; and ugly enough, I should think, to answer his worst ideal ! Satan, for aught I know, may, as Southey supposes, possess a good degree of taste; but judg- ing from this specimen, he does not seem to excel in the department of architecture, or else he did not deem it good policy to make a place of worship particularly attractive. By the way, religious reader, may not this intermeddling old gentleman have had something to do with much of our church architecture in America ? Else why are our religious edifices often made as ugly as possible, and placed in the worst situations that can be selected ? I remember this old structure when it was the only place SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 495 of worship for the villagers. Now it is ruinous and deserted, the windows gone, the roof partly fallen in, the porch look- ing like a bandy-legged septuagenary, and the bells that used to chime the worshippers so sweetly up the hill, hang- ing idly in the cracked and mossy tower. Yet it is allowed to stand as a landmark for the mariner; and it would be sacrilege to demolish so venerable a pile, beneath whose pavement and around whose walls sleep the dead of so many generations. I found here the graves of an uncle and aunt, with those of several cousins, who had been gathered to their rest since I was last within the enclosure, and sweet flowers were blossoming above the unconscious dust. Uphill is a little Pisgah, commanding an immense hori- zon, including some of the most beautiful scenery in England. It is the western extremity of the picturesque Mendip range, with only Brean Down beyond it — a rocky headland projecting three miles into the Bristol Channel, and looking, at a distance, like some huge marine monster, come forth to sun himself upon the margin of the sea. This lofty pro- montory is covered with the remains of ancient earth-works, from one extremity to the other; and was evidently, at some very remote period, strongly fortified — perhaps by the Britons, and afterward by the Romans, the Saxons, and the Danes, who are all supposed to have occupied it in succes- sion. Uphill also, and Bleadon Hill, two miles farther in- land, bear the remains of similar fortifications, consisting of embankments surrounded with broad and deep trenches; and from the very spot where the old church stands, a " trackway," evidently too ancient to be of Roman origin, has been traced some twenty miles into the interior. It is believed that Uphill was one of the principal ports at which the Phoenician ships received the products of the Mendip mines, many centuries before the Christian era; and these 496 A YEAR IN EUROPE. forts and roads, which abound in the vicinity, are referred to that distant period ! Three or four miles beyond the extremity of Brean Down, rises the Steep Holmes, a rocky and barren islet, from the very centre of the Channel. A white house, clinging to the side of the precipice, and gleaming in*the morning sunshine, tells us that even there, cradled amidst the surging waters, and serenaded by howling winds, dwell some of the human family. It was on this solitary rock tbat Gildas Bardonicus, the celebrated British historian and philosopher, found a temporary asylum during the desolating conflicts between the Picts, the Scots, and the Saxons, till he was driven off by pirates, and took refuge in the Abbey at G-lastonbury. Giiha, the mother of Harold, the last of the Saxon kings, with the wives of many Saxon thanes or noblemen, retired hither after the death of her son at the fatal battle of Hast- ings; and here remained in safety, till an opportunity offered for their departure to St. Outer's in Flanders. The Danes also, defeated upon the neighboring coast, withdrew to this islet in the Channel, where many of them perished by famine, and whence the remainder sailed for Ireland. There is a curious legend, current in this neighborhood, connected with the Danish invasion, which I recollect to have heard when I was a child. The Daues, landing at Up- hill, mooi'ed their ships, and pursued the flying inhabitants far into the interior. An old woman, too infirm to escape, concealed herself among the rocks, and aftei"ward stole out and cut loose the vessels. Returning from the chase, the Danes found their fleet floated far out to sea with the retir- ing tide. The routed inhabitants now rallied, and a clespe-' rate conflict ensued on Bleadon Hill, from which the blood ran down in rivulets to the plain. This event is said to have given name to the place- — Bloody Down — subsequently SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 497 contracted into Bleadon. I will not vouch for the deriva- tion. The Flat Holmes is the twin sister of the Steep Holmes, and lies only two or three miles distant. It is less lofty, but more extensive. Its highest point bears a lighthouse, where nightly glows the warning and guide of the mariner. The island is fertile and well cultivated, and has an inn for the accommodation of visitors. There is fine fishing around it, and good bathing upon its pebbly beach; and multi- tudes resort hither, during the summer, from Bristol, and Cardiff, and many other places on both sides of the Channel. On this island tradition points out three graves, as the last resting-places of the murderers of Thomas a Becket. How sweetly Bowles has sung their penitence and exile in his son- net of "Woodspriug Abbey : " These walls were built by men who did a deed Of blood ; terrific conscience, day by day, Followed where'er their shadow seemed to stay, And still in thought they saw their victim bleed, Before God's altar shrieking : pangs succeed, As dire upon their heart the deep sin lay, No tears of agony could wash away. Hence ! to the land's remotest limit speed ! These walls are raised in vain, as vainly flows Contrition's tear : Earth, hide them ! and thou, Sea, Which round the lone isle where their bones repose Dost sound for ever, their sad requiem be, In fancy's ear, at pensive evening's close, Still murmuring — 'Miserere, Domine!' " But I must pursue my journey. Here is the house in which, long years ago, lived my Uncle Norman, where I used to play with my little cousins, who now lie beside their parents in the old churchyard yonder. And here, a mile and a half farther, on the beautiful slope of Bleadon Hill, is the cottage of my maternal Grandmother Gould, exactly as I 498 A YEAR IN EUROPE. saw it when I came to the old lady's funeral, in 1824. It is a sweet place, quite buried in massive foliage and flowering vines; and I do not wonder that the little "Robin Red- breast" chose it as her asylum from the winter storm, flut- tering against the window every morning till she was admitted, and then spending the day familiarly in the house with her quiet and aged friend ! At the foot of the hill is the church, beneath whose eaves her venerable dust reposes — the only remarkable building in the village. Like most others in this part of Somersetshire, it is very ancient, and built in the perpendicular or early Gothic style. The most interesting thing within is the octagonal stone pulpit, elabo- rately carved with niches and delicate tracery. There are many such pulpits within half a dozen miles — one at Ran- well, one at Hutton, one at Kewstoke, and another at Worle — all of which seem to have been made after the same pat- tern, with very little variation in the details of the ornament. In the middle of the eleventh century, the manor of Rleadon was given by Githa, the wife of Earl Godwin, to the Church of St. Swithen, at Winchester, in whose possession it is still retained. Eight hundred years have passed over the village, but it is now probably very much what it was then, appa- rently having experienced but little change. Here we enter upon an extensive level country, consisting almost entirely of pasture lands, intersected by numerous dykes and drains. Pursuing our way, we soon arrive at Hobbs's Roat — so called because there is no boat there, and no use for any. The supposition is, that once upon a time — nobody knows how long ago — a man by the name of Hobbs kept a ferry here, for this depression in the ground was the channel of the river Axe. In my boyhood, when we came to Rleadon to visit the venerable personage afore- said and her pet robin, we crossed the stream upon a sub- stantial bridge ; but since that, an act of parliament has SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 499 been passed, empowering the river to take another course, of which privilege it promptly availed itself, leaving Hobbs's Boat high and dry, the bridge a superfluous ornament in the landscape, and its own bed a pasture for cattle. The road hence to Lympsham is as crooked as the engineer could well make it. The lofty leaning church tower is seen not more than a mile and a half distant, rising above a beautiful grove ; but after travelling nearly an hour, it seems as far off as when we first beheld it. The recollec- tions, however, connected with these gi*een fields and hedges, these pretty cottages and farm-houses, beguile the way of its tedium, and I go dreaming on till I reach that quiet and sequestered retreat, where the stranger's feet delight to lin- ger, and mine are chained by memory. The church and rectory of Lympsham present a scene purely English in its character ; and so pleasing that he who has seen it once delights often to recall the picture. Even aside from its associations to one who spent here the happiest portion of his life, it is altogether one of the most charming spots my eyes ever beheld. Its beauty is entirely the result, however, of taste and culture ; for the locality is a dead level, and void of all natural advantages. The projecting bay windows of the rectory, its pretty porch of open work, its octagonal turret, graceful tower, and other decorative features of the Tudor style, produce a most pleasing effect in domestic architecture ; and when united with trees and shrubbery of various forms and foliage, with lawns and arbors and luxuriant vines, it seems a place consecrated to tranquillity and repose, and worthy of the immortal names of Wilber- force and Hannah More which adorn its history. The same general care and elegant neatness extend to the enclo- sure where " The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." 500 A YEAR IN EUROPE. Those little heaps of turf, as well as the living home, are covered with flowers, and surrounded with an emerald carpet of the softest velvet, protected by an iron railing, and shaded by a variety of ornamental trees. It is a place where one might wish to lie, awaiting the resurrection ! For the present, however, we pass on to Brent. What a glorious pyramid is this Brent Knoll, rising abruptly from the plain to the height of a thousand feet ; as if some mighty hand, reached forth from the clouds, had pinched up the level surface, and left it there, a thing of beauty, for ever ! The base of the hill is about three miles in circumference. The first ascent, which is about four hundred feet, and very steep, terminates in a broad table-land, from the centre of which ascends a cone six hundred feet higher, which is rather difficult to climb. At the summit, a thousand feet above the plain, is a level area of about half a mile in cir- cuit, with a double entrenchment all around, which is evi- dently very ancient. I recollect that in my boyhood it was said many old Roman coins and weapons had been found here. Later excavations prove the work to be of much greater antiquity than the Roman invasion of Britain. That the Romans occupied it, indeed, is quite evident; but it must have been previously occupied by the Britons or the Belgse — perhaps both — several centuries before Christ. The Rev. W. Phelps, who has devoted much attention to British antiquities, and written a history of Somersetshire, in a paper presented to the Archaeological Society expresses the belief, and not without plausible grounds, that this and the neigh- boring fortifications refer to a period long antecedent to the invasion of Britain by the Belgic Gauls, three hundred and fifty years before the Incarnation, and must' be assigned to the earlier settlers in this part of Britain — the " Hedui," who worked the mines of the Mendip Hills at least seven hundred years before this event, and supplied the Phoenicians SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 501 — the great merchants of the world — with lead, zinc, and iron. The name — Brent — is said to be derived from brennan, to burn, either because the Saxon dwellings and defences were burned by the invading Danes in the ninth century, or, more likely, because signal-fires were usually lighted upon the crest of the knoll in times of danger. The word, however, is Celtic — Braint — the equivalent of law; and probably the eminence was so called because the ancient inhabitants, in ac- cordance with their universal custom, published their laws to the assembled multitude upon the summit. There is a place, just at the southern base of the hill, called Battleborough ; and this name bears witness to an an- cient conflict, of which there is no other tradition. Many battles, indeed, were fought in the immediate vicinity of Brent Knoll : one between the Belgas and the Britons, B. C. 300 ; another between the Romans and the Britons, A. D. 50 ; another between the Marcians and the West Saxons, A. D. 500 ; another between the Danes and the Saxons, A. D. 880, when King Alfred occupied the height with his army. It was a favorite stronghold of the West Saxons, who made it their last resort, and maintained it against the invaders after they were dislodged from all their surrounding fortresses. It was a beautiful morning in August when I passed through South Brent churchyard, and ascended the hill-side, by a path which seemed quite familiar, though I had not trodden it for more than thirty-two years. Eagerly I worked my way up the rugged steep, nor paused to look back till I had gained the very summit. What a vision of beauty lay spread out beneath and around me ! To the west, less than a league distant, was the Bristol Channel, opening a broad vista to the Atlantic. Upon its margin stood the massive tower of Burnham, with its lofty lighthouse, surrounded by 502 A YEAR IN EUROPE. hills of sand. A little farther northward was the shining strand, and the white church of Berrow, and the hold pro- montory of Brean Down, jutting far out into the sea. Beyond this lay the rocky Holmes, like a huge loaf of bread, upon the surface of the water; and still farther the blue coast of Wales, with its inland mountains, rising like islands from the sea of mist that concealed their base. To the north and east ran the bare Mendip Hills, with a score of bright villages reposing along their sides. And there yawned the dark gorge of Cheddar, as if some mighty hand from the sky had smitten through the mountain. And Glastonbury Tor, upon its lofty pyramid, stood out in bold relief against the southern horizon. And to the right lay the memorable field of Sedgemoor, and the town of Bridgewater, and the River Barret, and Enmore Castle, and the Quantock Hills, and a succession of bold headlands along the channel stretching away to Cornwall. It was a charming panorama; and the sky was as bright, and the air as balmy, as those of the fair Lucanian coast. the luxury of this soft summer wind, re- galing the sense with every delicacy of freshening perfume ! I sat me down, and feasted eye and soul upon the picture before me. Within sight, and almost at my feet, were the house where I was born, and the church in which I was bap- tized. Two miles farther was the old tower of Lympsham, beneath whose shadow I was initiated into the mysteries of the alphabet ; the white cottage, half-mantled with vines, where I spent the happiest eight years of my life ; the fields over which I wandered so often with my little brothers and cousins, plucking the yellow cowslips, or gathering the pur- ple sloes; my dear old grandmother's cottage, peeping out from its embowering emerald on the green slope of Bleadon, up which, hand in hand, we who have been separated so far and so long, bounded merrily together; and within the ample sweep of the encircling hills, a hundred other objects SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 503 and localities, every one of which, called np some vivid picture of the past. I sat and dreamed. In one brief hour, I lived all my childhood over again. Words are vain, to paint the holy memories, the sweet melancholy, the raptures of love and sorrow, which steal over the heart in such an hour ! Hence to Burnham, where I find a number of relations still living, and others in the churchyard, whom I knew and loved so many years ago ! This is a popular summer resort, situated on the Bridgewater Bay, just where the Parret and the Brue enter the Bristol Channel. It is a small village, but delightfully located, and has a magnificent beach, with fine facilities for bathing. The coast is flat and low, and must be frequently inundated by the sea, were it not for the vast heaps of sand which form its natural defence. These sand-hills — or, as they are provincially called, "zontotts" — are covered with coarse grass and weeds, and afford a home for innumerable rabbits which perforate them in every direc- tion. The entrance of the river Parret is very dangerous, and here Alfred the Great is said to have been wrecked after his misfortunes with the Danes. There is now, and has been for many years, a fine lighthouse for the greater safety of mariners entering the port. The old records mention the priory of Burnham : of which, however, there are no traces remaining, not even a tradition of its locality. The manor was one of those given by King Ina to the Abbots of Glas- tonbury, and held by them till the monastery was subverted and destroyed. The church is a majestic old structure, with a tower of huge proportions ; which, like the more graceful one of Lympsham, declines somewhat from the perpendicular. I think the bells in its upper story are the clearest and sweet- est I ever heard ; and when they are rung in the stillness of the evening — not chimed like our Charleston bells — there is magic in their music. There is a fine Grecian altarpiece in 504 A YEAR IN EUROPE. the church, designed and sculptured by Inigo Jones 5 origi- nally placed, by Sir Christopher Wren, amid the Gothic glories of Westminster Abbey; but, on the coronation of G-eorge the Fourth, removed from so absurd a position, and placed in the scarcely less absurd one which it now occupies. In the churchyard are several tombstones, inscribed with the name of Locke, and belonging to the family of the immortal John. The vicarage was for many years the favorite resort of the learned Dr. King, Bishop of Rochester, and editor of Burke, who had formerly been vicar of the parish. But I will not weary thee, patient reader, with the inci- dents, doubtless much more interesting to myself than others, of my fortnight's sojourn at Burnharn; my morning strolls on Berrow Strand, and evening walks on Brean Down ; the beautiful phenomenon of the mirage which I witnessed there, and the super- Italian sunsets I beheld over the Bristol Chan- nel; a trip to Mark, and Wedmore, and Axbridge, and the Chiddar Cliffs, and the subterranean glories of their Stalac- tite Cavern; an excursion across the heath, skirting the field of Sedgemoor, to old monkish Glastonbury, with its won- drous Tor, and ruined Abbey, and memorials of the unfor- tunate Abbot Whiting, and the staff of Joseph of Arima- thea, which, after having walked with it from Jerusalem hither, he stuck into the soil on the side of the hill, where it still flourishes as a vigorous thorn-tree, and blossoms every Christmas ! HEART-RECORDS. 505 CHAPTER XXXVII. HEART-RECORDS. HOME OF MT CHILDHOOD INTERESTING COLLOQUY ACROSS THE DAISY- FIELDS TO LYMPSHAM THE WESLEYAN CHAPEL ANOTHER COLLOQUY THE PARISH CHURCH THE CHURCHYARD AND ITS OCCUPANTS AN OLD FRIEND EAST BRENT CHURCH SOUTH BRENT CHURCH AN EVENING SCENE THE BURNHAM BELLS "HAIL COLUMBIA!" Still in Somersetshire. This name is Saxon, and signifies "Pleasant Country;'' and if the best climate in the king- dom, the most beautiful shores and strands, picturesque islands and promontories, segregated hills in the midst of extensive plains, wide fields of golden corn, the richest of pasture-lands, the noblest sheep and cattle, incomparable butter and cheese, well-loaded orchards, sweet rural villas, hedgerows of living verdure, church-towers of unrivalled elegance, and chimes of iEolian melody, are circumstances to please the human senses, then Somersetshire is not un- worthy of its distinction. Well, I am in Somersetshire, the "Pleasant Country;" and certainly no country ever looked more pleasant to me — not even Italy, with its vine-clad hills, and groves of olive and orange, and Campagna strewn with ruins, and the sun- sets which glorify its skies, and the histories which hallow its soil — than this same Somersetshire, when I came down from London. Time can never efface, as language can never 22 506 A YEAR IN EUROPE. describe ; the feelings with which I then surveyed these flowery pastures and romantic hills. If you can imagine, dear reader, how Adam would have felt, after thirty-two years of exile from the blessed garden, toiling over the thorny and thistly earth, burying his Abel in his blood, beholding his Cain an accursed fugitive, to have found him- self again at the seraph-guarded gate, and to have seen the heavenly sentinel sheathe his flaming sword and beckon him to enter, then you may imagine something of my feelings as I rushed toward the cottage of my nativity ! It was with difficulty, at first, that I could recognize the place. The Bristol and Exeter Railway, which passes close by, had been constructed since I was last here ; and old houses had been demolished ; and new houses had been erected ; and all things, like myself, had changed. Soon, however, I began to identify one object after another, till the whole assemblage seemed perfectly familiar, and the realities of childhood came back as vivid as the scenes of yesterday. Then the quick- thorn-hedge, which I watched my father planting when I was only five years old, gave me a smiling welcome ; and the apple-trees beneath which I stood, handing him the scions as he grafted them, stretched out their generous arms, and offered me their golden fruit; and the good old yew at the end of the garden-walk, as I sat down at its roots, and heard the wind among its branches, seemed to say to me, " So you are returned to your old playground ; but where have you been so long? and where are Eliza and your three little brothers?" ........ My overburdened heart was relieved, and I arose and walked toward the cottage. A feeble and wrinkled old woman stood at the door, and the following dialogue ensued : " Good morning ! Who lives in this house ?" " John Fear deh leeve here, Zur." " Does he own the place V HEART-RECORDS. 507 "Awn et — ah, teh be shower eh do ; an eh have vor theaz twenty yers an moor." " Indeed ! And of whom did he buy it ?" " Eh bought et o' Meeaster Collins, as had et o' Jarge Cross, as went teh 'Murica moor'n. a scawr an half o' yers agone." " Did you know G-eorge Cross V f " Knaw en — te be shower I did. I deh mind en vurry well, bless ee ; an I deh mind Lizzy, too, an ael the children, gooneh. Theh had nine, an theh be ael gone teh 'Murica vor moor'n thirty yers." " Have you ever heard any thing of the family since they went to America ?" "Ees, Zur, a scawr o' times; an two o' the bwahs, I deh hier, be Wesleyan preachers ; an poor Lizzy be dead theaz vifteen er zixteen yers, I 'spooez ) an one er two o' the chil- dern be dead too, I deh think. But Jarge were here, an one o' es zuns wee en, about a dozen yers agone ; an the tears did hern down the good awld man's feeace, an I thawt eh mus be zarry that eh ever went awah vrom es country." " Do you remember the names of any of the boys ?" " Ees, Zur; I deh sim teh mind ivery one o' em. Theear were John — he were the awldest; an than theear were William, an Harry, an Jarge, an Liza, an Jozzeph, an Moses, an Aaron, an Benny. Benny were the youngest o' em, an the poor fellow were adrowued. Liza were the awnly daeghter, an Moses and Aaron were twins." " Do you think you would know any of them if you should see them ?" " Well, I deh sim I should, yeh knaw ; but than theear tis a long time, an vurry likely I should'en. Lord bless ee, Znr ! ee beeaut nern o' 'em, be ee?" "Yes; I am Joseph " 508 A YEAR IN EUROPE. My dear reader, you must imagine the rest : I have no colors for the picture. The above will answer at least for a specimen of the " Zum- merzet" dialect, to which indeed I have scarcely done justice, for it is extremely difficult to express some of the sounds in writing. Now I had the freedom of the premises, and the old woman conducted me up stairs and down stairs, among the currant- bushes and raspberry-briers, and showed me the wall-flowers and carnations that my dear mother had cultivated so long ago, and the outhouse in which " Little Joe" used to build his pulpits, and preach to his sister and three younger brothers; and her tears seemed to lubricate her superan- nuated tongue, and her stream of talk was interlarded with exclamations of infinite astonishment, as she recounted the vicissitudes of time and fortune; and my ear and heart drank in, with unspeakable satisfaction, this voice from the past ; and I deemed that dear old dialect the sweetest elo- quence I had ever heard ! Loaded with fruits, and flowers, and verbal blessings, I took my departure across the sweet daisy-fields of Lympsham, along the very footpath by which my father led me to church on Sunday, and my sister to school on the weekday, two score years ago. A mile distant, I could see the white bat- tlements of the rectory peeping out from their bowers of verdure, and the lofty church-tower rising gracefully over the tops of the surrounding elms. But before I had pro- ceeded far, three diverging paths puzzled me ; and a lad, of whom I inquired the way, gave me the following directions : " Ee deh goo down thick wah agin ee deh come to a styel, an than ee deh goo droo a grown ael vull o' gripes, an ee'l zee a berge wee a pyer awver the rheen, an ee deh volly the leean to the archid geeat, and theear be Lympsham Chapel HEART-RECORDS. 517 visions of the past do those magical tones bring with them ! Excuse me, unpoetic reader, if I turn my feelings into verse. The Burnham bells ! The Burnham bells ! I heard them when a boy ; And churchward, o'er the yellow moor, I ran with childish joy : My Sabbath had no sorrow then, My worship no alloy. And when o'er Berrow's shining strand We trod so blithe and gay, Or climbed Brent's Knoll's embattled crest To breathe the balm of May, How often paused our sportive train To list that pleasing lay ! And when the bridal-gem bedecked Our fair young cousin's brow, And in the holy place she knelt To seal her maiden vow, How pealed the merry Burnham bells, As they are pealing now ! And when the Christmas Eve came round, And joy was everywhere, And youthful glee made sober age Forget its heavy care, What wreaths of melody they wove Upon the wint'ry air ! And when the annual feast was spread, And, as the season true, Together to our childhood's home The dear ones fondly drew, How rang they out the good old year, And welcomed in the new ! 'Tis more than thirty Christmas eves, And New-Years' festivals — 518 A YEAR IN EUROPE. And I have pressed such loving hearts, And breathed such sad farewells — Since last I listened to your song, Ye mellow Burnham bells I For I have strayed in foreign lands, And found a foreign home ; And love has withered at my side, And beauty ceased to bloom ; And what I valued more than life Has vanished in the tomb. I've lost the light elastic tread, My hair is whitening now, And Care his cruel lines has left Engraven on my brow ; And where is youthful Innocence ? And where, sweet Hope, art thou? The house where first I hailed the day I now through tears behold, The grove beside the pleasant hill Of emerald and gold ; For there the stream of my young life Mid scenes of beauty rolled. How oft along this fragrant bank I wandered wild and free ! How oft in boyish games engaged Around that old elm tree ! But where are all the little feet That ranged the fields with me ? The primrose and the violet, Which then the hedge perfumed, The daisy and the buttercup, Still bloom as erst they bloomed ; But she for whom I gathered them Was long ago entombed. HEART-RECORDS. 519 The mound that marked the grave is gone, The place is seldom shown, And age has quite obscured the name Recorded on the stone; But that sweet face, ye Burnham bells, Returns with your sweet tone ! Ring on — your blessed minstrelsy Rolls back the wheel of time ! Ring on — my Eden blooms anew Beneath your holy chime ! Ring on — I never more may list Your melody sublime ! "And here will I make an end." Why should I tell of tearful partings ? On the fourteenth day of November we embarked in the steamship Vanderbilt for New York. Two days, and Boreas comes waltzing over the waters, and Nep- tune rises to resent the intrusion. The Vanderbilt takes a hand in the affray — tries to knock the stars out of the sky with her stern, or poke a hole in the bottom of the ocean with her bowsprit. Six days the elemental war continues ; the passengers retire to their berths in sublime disgust, and the scribe very rationally suspects himself of insanity. The French cook jumps overboard, and is lost. A passen- ger fractures his skull by a fall against the sharp corner of the wheel-house, and the next day we commit him to the deep. The second Sabbath brings calmer weather, and the scribe is preaching to the passengers. Another storm, fiercer and fouler than the former. Alas for " those that go down to the sea in ships I" Thursday morning, the twenty- sixth of November, 1857, I stand upon the deck of a steamer all shrouded with ice, and sing more joyously than ever I sang before — "Hail, Columbia, happy land!" uny -j in/ 7