[Page Head: ASTRONI]

May 8th, 1830 {p.355}

Rode with a large party to Astroni, where they dined, but I did not. There were the Lushingtons, Prince and Princess Dentici (he is at the head of the Douane), Madame and Mademoiselle Galiati (she is remarkably pretty), Count (I believe) and Countess Rivalvia, her uncle, Lord A. Chichester, Count Gregorio, and a Mr. Stuart. The park, or whatever it is called--for it is the King's chase and full of wild boars--is one of the most beautiful and curious places about Naples. Milton's description of the approach to Eden applies exactly to Astroni; if ever he saw it it is likely that he meant to describe it--

To the border comes Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green, As with a rural mound, the champaign head Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides, With thicket overgrown, grotesque, and wild, Access denied; and overhead up grew Insuperable height of loftiest shade, A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view.

It is an immense crater of a volcano, the amphitheatre quite unbroken, and larger than that of Vesuvius, but covered with wood, and the bottom with very fine trees of various sorts and with fern--very wild and picturesque. There are several little hillocks, supposed to have been small craters; but although it is proved that this was a volcano from the lava under the soil and from its shape, there is no mention of it as an active volcano, and n.o.body can tell how many thousand years ago it was in operation. The King, with his usual good taste, is cutting down the finest trees, and has made a ride round the bottom, which he has planted with poplars in a double row, spoiling as much as he can all the beauty of the place. They dined in a shady arbour, made on purpose with branches of trees bound together, and on beds of fern, were very merry, pelting each other with oranges and cherries, and dealing about an abundance of manual jests.

_Evening._--I have taken my last ride and last look at Naples, and am surprised at the sorrow I feel at quitting it, as I fear, for ever. Rode again to Astroni with Morier, and walked through the wood and tried to scale one of the sides of the mountain, but lost the path, and could only get half-way up; it is the most beautiful place about Naples. Came back by the Strada Nuova, and saw for the last time that delicious Bay with its coast and its islands, which are as deeply imprinted on my memory as if I had pa.s.sed my life among them. To-night I have stood once more by the sh.o.r.e, and could almost have cried to think I should never see it again--

The smooth, surface of this summer sea--

nor breathe this delicious air, nor feast my eyes on the scene of gaiety, and brilliancy, and beauty around me. n.o.body can form an idea of Naples without coming to it; every gale seems to bring health and cheerfulness with it, and appears 'able to drive all sadness but despair.'

Naples, they tell me, does very well for a short time, but you will soon grow tired of it. To be sure, I have been here only three weeks, but I liked it better every day, and I am wretched at leaving it. What could I ever mean by thinking it was not gay, and less lively than Genoa? To-night, as I came home from riding, the sh.o.r.e was covered with lazaroni and throngs of people, dancing, singing, harping, fiddling--all so merry, and as if the open air and their own elastic spirits were happiness enough. I suppose I shall never come again, for when I have measured back the distance to my own foggy country, there I shall settle for ever, and Naples and her sunny sh.o.r.es and balmy winds will only be as a short and delightful dream, from which I have waked too soon.

CHAPTER X.

Mola di Gaeta--Capua--Lines on leaving Naples--Return to Rome-- The Aqueducts--'Domine, quo vadis?'--St. Peter's--The Scala Santa--Reasons in favour of San Gennaro--Ascent of St.

Peter's--Library of the Vatican--A racing _ex voto_--Illness of George IV.--Approaching _Coup d'etat_ in France--The Villa Mills--The Malaria--Duc and d.u.c.h.esse de Dalberg--The Emperor Nicholas on his Accession--Cardinal Albani--A _Columbarium_-- Maii--Sir William Gell--Tivoli--Hadrian's Villa--The Adventures of Miss Kelly and Mr. Swift--Audience of the Pope--Gibson's Studio--End of Miss Kelly's Marriage--A great Function--The Jesuits--Saint-making--San Lorenzo in Lucina--The Flagellants-- Statues by Torchlight--Bunsen on the State of Rome--Fiascati-- Relations of Protestant States with Rome--The French Ministry-- M. de Villele--The Coliseum--Excommunication of a Thief--The Pa.s.sionists--The Corpus Domini--A Rash Marriage--Farewell to Rome--Falls of Terni--Statue at Pratolino--Bologna-- Mezzofanti--Ferrara--Venice--Padua--Vicenza--Brescia--Verona-- Milan--Lago Maggiore--The Simplon--Geneva--Paris.

Mola di Gaeta, May 9th, 1830 {p.359}

I have dined here on an open terrace (looking over the garden and the delicious Bay), where I have been sitting writing the whole evening. The moon is just rising, and throwing a flood of silver over the sea--

Rising in cloudless majesty, Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.

We left Naples at half-past seven in the morning, went to Caserta, and walked over the palace, in which nothing struck me but the dimensions, the staircase, and a few of the rooms. The theatre is very well contrived; it is at one end of the palace, and the back of it opens by large folding doors into the garden, so that they can have any depth of stage they please, and arrange any pageants or cavalcades. This could, however, only be at a theatre in a country house. Thence to Capua, and went over the Amphitheatre, which is very remarkable. It is said to be larger than the Coliseum, but the arena did not appear to me so vast.

Here we are in the land of names again, and it is impossible for the imagination not to run over the grandeur, luxury, and fate of Capua, for on the very spot on which I was standing (for the chief places are ascertained) in all probability Hannibal often sat to see the games.[1]

[1] No such thing. _His_ Capua was nearly destroyed, and if it had an amphitheatre it would have been ruined. These ruins must have belonged to Capua the Second, which was restored by Augustus or Tiberius, and became as flourishing and populous as the first had been.-- [C.C.G.]

The Italian postilions, it must be owned, are a comical set. They sometimes go faster than ever I went in England, then at others they creep like snails, and stop at the least inclined plane to put on the _scarpa_. The occasions they generally select for going fast are when they have six horses harnessed to the carriage, and so extend about ten yards, on slippery pavement, through very narrow streets, extremely crowded with women and children; then they will flog their horses to full speed, and clatter along without fear or shame. Nothing happens; I have remarked that nothing ever does anywhere in Italy.

I have walked over this garden [at Gaeta], which contains remains of one of Cicero's villas, but they are only arched rooms like vaults, and not worth seeing but for the name of Cicero, and the recollection that he was murdered almost on this spot. He had good taste in his villas, for this bay is as placid and delicious as that of Baiae. There is an ancient bath, which probably belonged to the villa; it is in the sea, and still available, when cleaned out, which just now it is not.

[Page Head: LINES ON LEAVING NAPLES]

Rome, May 10th, 1830 {p.360}

Left Mola at half-past seven and got here at ten minutes after seven. It was so kind as to rain last night and this morning, and lay the dust all the way. Stopped at Terracina, and went to see the ancient port, which is worth seeing. The road is pretty all the way, but the scenery in Italy wants verdure and foliage. The beauty of these landscapes consists in the bold outlines, lofty mountains, abundant vegetation, and bright atmosphere, and they are always better to look at from a little distance than very near. Aricia is pretty well wooded. I found a parcel of letters with the London news; but the post is enough to drive one mad, for I got one of the 23rd of April and another of the 19th of March on the same day.

_ON TAKING LEAVE OF NAPLES._ (Written in a carriage between Naples and Mola di Gaeta.) '_Nascitur poeta._'

Though not a spark of true poetic fire Beamed at my birth, or on my cradle fell, Though rude my numbers, and untuned my lyre, I will not leave thee with a mute farewell.

I cannot see recede thy sunny sh.o.r.e, Nor ling'ring look my last upon thy bay, And know that they will meet my gaze no more, Yet tearless take my unreturning way.

'Tis not that Love laments his broken toys, Nor is it Friendship murmurs to depart, Touching the chords of recollected joys Which ring with sad vibration on the heart.

Nor bound am I in Habit's unfelt chain, Which o'er the fancy steals with gradual pow'r, Till local sympathy awakes in pain, That slept unconscious till the parting hour.

But 'tis the charm, so great, yet undefin'd, That Nature's self around fair Naples throws, Which now excites and elevates the mind, And now invites it to no dull repose.

No exhalations damp the spirits choke, That feed on ether temp'rate and serene; No yellow fogs, or murky clouds of smoke, Obscure the l.u.s.tre of this joyous scene.

The G.o.d of Gladness with prolific ray Bids the rich soil its teeming womb expand, While healthful breezes, cooled with Ocean's spray, Scatter a dewy freshness o'er the land.

No mountain billow's huge uplifted crest Lashes the foaming beach with sullen roar; The smooth sea sparkles in unbroken rest, Or lightly rakes upon the pebbled sh.o.r.e.

The Ocean's Monarch on these golden sands Seems the luxurious laws of Love to own,[2]

And yield his trident to Thala.s.sia's hands, To rule the waters from the Baian throne.

Here the green olive, and the purple vine, The lofty poplar and the elm espouse, Or round the mulberry their tendrils twine, Or creep in cl.u.s.ters through the ilex boughs.

A thousand flow'rs, enamelling the fields, Declare the presence of returning spring; A various harvest smiling Ceres yields, And all the groves with vocal music sing.

Earth, air, and sea th' enchantment of the clime, Revived that young elation of the breast When Hope, undaunted, saw the form of Time In Fancy's gay, deluding colours drest,

And though those visions are for ever fled Which in the morning of existence rose, And all the false and flatt'ring hopes are dead That vainly promised a serener close.

I'll s.n.a.t.c.h the joys which spite of fate remain To cheer life's darkness with a transient ray, And oft in vivid fancy roam again Through these blest regions when I'm far away.

[2] The Temple of Venus stands upon the sh.o.r.e of the Bay of Baiae.

[Page Head: THE AQUEDUCTS]

Rome, May 13th, 1830 {p.362}

_11th._--Walked about visiting to announce my return, and found n.o.body at home. Hired a horse and rode with Lovaine till near eight o'clock; rode by the Via Sacra two or three miles along the Street of Tombs--very interesting and curious--and then cut across to the ruin of an old villa, where an apartment floored with marble has lately been discovered, evidently a bath, and a very large one; on to Torlonia's _scavo_ and under the arches of the Claudian aqueduct. Nothing at Rome delights and astonishes me more than the aqueducts, the way they stretch over the Campagna--[3]

As some earth-born giants spread Their mighty arms along th' indented mead.

And when you approach them how admirable are their vastness and solidity--each arch in itself a fabric, and the whole so venerable and beautiful. After all my delight at Naples I infinitely prefer Rome; there is a tranquil magnificence and repose about Rome, and an indefinable pleasure in the atmosphere, the colouring, and the ruins, which are better felt than described. We lingered about the aqueducts till dark, but there is hardly any twilight here; the sun sets, and in half an hour it is night. Almost everybody is gone or going, but the heat can't have driven them away, for it is perfectly cool.

[3] The Claudian aqueduct, which is the grandest, and whose enormous remains form the great ornament of the Campagna, was begun by Caligula, and finished by Claudius. The structure of the arches is exactly like those of the Coliseum. The first aqueduct was built by Appius Caecus, the censor, the same who laid down the Via Appia, 310 B.C.

As we set out on our ride we pa.s.sed a little church called 'Domine, quo vadis?' which was built on this occasion:--St. Peter was escaping from Rome (he was a great coward, that Princeps Apostolorum), and at this spot he met Christ, and said to him, 'Domine, quo vadis?' 'Why,' replied our Saviour, 'I am going to be crucified over again, for you are running away, and won't stay to do my business here;' on which St. Peter returned to suffer in his own person, and the church was built in commemoration of the event. The Saint has no reason to be flattered at the character which is given of him by the pious editors of his Epistles.

'Confidence and zeal form a conspicuous part of his character, but he was sometimes deficient in firmness and resolution. He had the faith to walk upon the water, but when the sea grew boisterous his faith deserted him and he became afraid. He was forward to acknowledge Jesus to be the Messiah, and declared himself ready to die in that profession, and yet soon after he thrice denied, and with oaths, that he knew anything of Jesus.

The warmth of his temper led him to cut off the ear of the High Priest's servant, and by his timidity and dissimulation respecting the Gentile converts at Antioch he incurred the censure of the eager and resolute St. Paul.'

[Page Head: MODERN MIRACLES]