It is a great shame that her father obliges her to act on the stage in very inferior parts, when she ought only to exhibit on the tripod. I a.s.sisted at an _Accademia_ given by her one evening at the _Teatro della Valle_, when she improvised on the following subjects, which were proposed by various members of the audience: 1st, _La morte d'Egeo_; 2dy, _La Madre Ebrea_; 3rd, _Coriolano alle mura di Roma_; 4th, _Ugolino_; 5th, _Saffo e Faone_; 6th, in the Carnaval with the following _intercalario: "Maschera ti conosco, tieni la benda al cor_!" which _intercalario_ compels a rhyme in _osco_, a most difficult one. The _Madre Ebrea_ and _Coriolano_ were given in _ottava rima_ with a _rima obbligata_ for each stanza. The _Morte d'Egeo_ was given in _terza rima_. Her versification appeared to be excellent, nor could I detect the absence or superabundance, of a single syllable. She requires the aid of music, chuses the melody; the audience propose the subject, and _rima obbligata_, and the _intercalario_, where it is required. In her gestures, particularly before she begins to recite, she reminded me of the description given of the priestess of. Delphi. She walks along the stage for four or five minutes in silent meditation on the subject proposed, then suddenly stops, calls to the musicians to play a certain symphony and then begins as if inspired. Among the different rhimes in _osco_, a gentleman who sat next to me proposed to her _Cimosco_. I asked him what _Cimosco_ he meant; he replied a Tuscan poet of that name.

For my part, I had never heard of any other of that name than the King _Cimosco_ in the _Orlando Furioso_, who makes use of fire-arms; and Rosa Taddei was, it appears, of my opinion, since this was the _Cimosco_ she chose to characterise; and she made thereby a very neat and happy comparison between the gun of Cimosco and the arrow of Cupid. This talent of the _improvisatori_ is certainly wonderful, and one for which there is no accounting. It appears peculiar to the Italian nation alone among the moderns, but probably was in vogue among the ancient Greeks also. It is certain that Rosa Taddei gives as fine thoughts as are to be met with in most poets, and I am very much tempted to incline to Forsyth's opinion that Homer himself was neither more nor less than an _improvisatore_, the Greek language affording nearly as many poetic licences as the Italian, and the faculty of heaping epithet on epithet being common in both languages.

The other genius in this wonderful art is Signer Sgricci. He is so far superior to Rosa Taddei in being five or six years older, in being a very good Latinist and hi _improvising_ whole tragedies on any subject, chosen by the audience. When the subject is chosen, he develops his plan, fixes his _dramatis personae_ and then strikes off in _versi sciolti_. He at times introduces a chorus with lyric poetry. I was present one evening at an _Accademia_ given by him in the Palazzo Chigi. The subject chosen was _Sophonisba_ and it was wonderful the manner in which he varied his plot from that of every other dramatic author on the same subject. He _acted_ the drama, as well as composed it, and pourtrayed the different characters with the happiest effect. The ardent pa.s.sion and impetuosity of Ma.s.sinissa, the studied calm philosophy and stoicism of Scipio, the romantic yet dignified attachment of Sophonisba, and the plain soldierlike honorable behaviour of Syphax were given in a very superior style. I recollect particularly a line he puts in the mouth of Scipio, when he is endeavouring to persuade Ma.s.sinissa to resist the allurements and blandishments of love:

Che cor di donne e laberinto, in quale Facil si perde l'intelletto umano.

This drama he divided into three acts, and on its termination he improvised a poem in _terza rima_ on the subject of the contest of Ajax and Ulysses for the armour of Achilles.

Wonderful, however, as this act of improvising may appear, it is not perhaps so much so as the mathematical faculty of a youth of eight years of age, Yorkshireman by birth, who has lately exhibited his talent for arithmetical calculation _improvised_ in England and who in a few seconds, from mental calculation, could give the cube root of a number containing fifteen or sixteen figures.

Is not all this a confirmation of Doctor Gall's theory on craniology? viz., that our faculties depend on the organisation of the scull. I think I have seen this frequently exemplified at Eton. I have known a boy who could not compose a verse, make a considerable figure in arithmetic and geometry; and another, who could write Latin verse with almost Ovidian elegance, and yet could not work the simplest question in vulgar fractions. Indeed, I think there seems little doubt that we are born with dispositions and propensities, which may be developed and encouraged, or damped and checked altogether by education.

I have become acquainted with several families at Rome, so that I am at no loss where to spend my evenings. Music is the never failing resource for those with whom the spirit of conversation fails. The society at Rome is perfectly free from etiquette or _gene_. When once presented to a family you may enter their house every evening without invitation, make your bow to the master and mistress of the house, enter into conversation or not as you please. You may absent yourself for weeks together from these _conversazioni_, and n.o.body will on your re-appearance enquire where you have been or what you have been doing. In short, in the intercourse with Roman society, you meet with great affability, sometimes a little _ennui_, but no _commerage_. The _avvocati_ may be said to form almost exclusively the middling cla.s.s in Rome, and they educate their families very respectably. This cla.s.s was much caressed by the French Government during the time that Rome was annexed to the French Empire, and most of the employes of the Government at that time were taken from this cla.s.s. I have met with several sensible well-informed people, who have been accurate observers of the times, and had derived profit in point of instruction from the scenes they had witnessed.

The Papal Government began, as most of the restored governments did, by displacing many of these gentlemen, for no other fault than because they had served under the Ex-government, and replaced them by ecclesiastics, as in the olden time. But the Papal Government very soon discovered that the whole political machine would be very soon at a stand, by such an _epuration_; and the most of them have been since reinstated. Consalvi, the Secretary of State, is a very sensible man; he has hard battles to fight with the _Ultras_ of Rome in order to maintain in force the useful regulations introduced by the French Government, particularly the organisation of a vigilant police, and the putting a stop to the murders and robberies, which used formerly to be committed with impunity. The French checked the system of granting asylum to these vagabonds altogether.

But on the restoration of the Papal Government a strong interest was made to allow asylums, as formerly, to criminals. Many of these gentry began to think that the good old times were come again, wherein they could commit with impunity the most atrocious crimes; and no less than eighty persons were in prison at one time for murder. This opened the eyes of the Government, and Consalvi insisted on the execution of these men and carried his point of establishing a vigilant police. The Army too has been put on a better footing. The Papal troops are now clothed and disciplined in the French manner, and make a most respectable appearance. The infantry is clothed in white; the cavalry in green. The c.o.c.kade is white and yellow. No greater proof can be given of the merit and utility of the French inst.i.tutions in Italy, than the circ.u.mstance of all the restored Governments being obliged by their interests (tho' contrary to their wishes and prejudices), to adopt and enforce them. There is still required, however, a severer law for the punishment of post office defalcations.

Simple dismissal is by no means adequate, when it is considered how much mischief may ensue from such offences. A very serious offence of this nature and which has made a great sensation, has lately occurred. As all foreign letters must be franked, and as the postage to England is very high, one of the clerks at the Post office had been in the habit of receiving money for the franking of letters, appropriated it to his own use, and never forwarded the letters. This created great inconvenience; a number of families having never received answers to their letters and being without the expected remittances, began to be uneasy and to complain. An enquiry was inst.i.tuted, and it was discovered that the clerk above mentioned had been carrying on this game to a great extent. He used to tear the letters and throw the fragments into a closet. Several sc.r.a.ps of letters were thus discovered and, on being examined, he made an ample confession of his practises. He was merely discharged, and no other punishment was indicted on him. I am no advocate for the punishment of death for any other crime but wilful murder; but surely this fellow was worse than a robber, and deserved a greater severity of punishment.

ROME, 10th February, 1818.

The Carnaval has long since begun, and this is the heaven of the Roman ladies. On my remarking to a lady that I was soon tired of it and after a day or two found it very childish, she replied: "_Bisogna esser donna e donna Italiana per ben G.o.dere de' piaceri del Carnevale_."

When I speak of the Carnaval, I speak of the last ten days of it which precede Lent. The following is the detail of the day's amus.e.m.e.nt during the season.

After dinner, which is always early, the masks sally out and repair to the _Corso_. The windows and balconies of the houses are filled with spectators, in and out of masks. A scaffolding containing an immense number of seats is constructed in the shape of a rectangle, beginning at the _Piazza del Popolo_, running parallel to the _Corso_ on each side, and terminating near the _Piazza di Venezia_; close to which is the goal of the horse race that takes place in this enclosure. Carriages, with persons in them, generally masked, parade up and down this s.p.a.ce in two currents, the one ascending, the other descending the _Corso_. They are saluted as they pa.s.s with showers of white comfits from the spectators on the seats of the scaffolding, or from the balconies and windows on each side of the street.

These comfits break into a white powder and bespatter the clothes of the person on whom they fall as if hair-powder had been thrown on them. This seems to be the grand joke of this part of the Carnival. After the carriages have paraded about an hour, a signal is given by the firing of a gun that the horse race is about to begin. The carriages, on the gun being fired, must immediately evacuate the _Corso_ in order to leave it clear for the race; some move off and _rendezvous_ on the _Piazza del Popolo_ just behind the scaffolding, from the foot of which the horses start; others file off by the _Via Ripetta_ and take their stand on the _Piazza Colonna_.

The horse-race is performed by horses without riders, generally five or six at a time. They are each held with a bridle or halter by a man who stands by them, in order to prevent their starting before the signal is given; and this requires no small degree of force and dexterity, as the horses are exceedingly impatient to set off. The manes of the horses are dressed in ribbands of different colours to distinguish them. Pieces of tin, small bells and other noisy materials are fastened to their manes and tails, in order by frightening the poor animals, to make them run the faster, and with this view also squibs and crackers are discharged at them as they pa.s.s along. A second gun is the signal for starting; the keepers loose their hold, and off go the horses. The horse that arrives the first at the goal wins the grand prize; and there are smaller ones for the two next. This race is repeated four or five times till dusk, and then the company separate and return home to dress. They then repair to the b.a.l.l.s at the different casinos, and at the conclusion of the ball, supper parties are formed either at _restaurants_ or at each other's houses. During the time occupied in the b.a.l.l.s and promenades, as every body goes masked either in character or in _domino_, there is a fine opportunity for pairing off, and it is no doubt turned to account. This is a pretty accurate account of a Roman Carnaval. A great deal of wit and repartee takes place among the masks and they are in general extremely well supported, and indeed they ought to be, for there is a great sameness of character a.s.sumed at every masquerade, and very little novelty is struck out, except perhaps by some foreigner, who chuses to introduce a national character of his own, which is probably but little, or not at all, understood by the natives, and very often not at all well supported by the foreigner himself. An American gentleman once made his appearance as an Indian warrior with his war-hatchet and calumet; he danced the war dance, which excited great astonishment. He then presented his calumet to a mask, who not knowing what the ceremony meant, declined it, when the Mohawk flourished his hatchet and gave such a dreadful shriek as to set the whole company in alarm.[112] On the whole this character was so little understood that it was looked upon as a _mauvaise plaisanterie_.

The usual characters are Pulcinelli, Arlecchini, Spanish Grandees, Turks, fortune tellers, flower girls and Devils; sometimes too they go in the costume of the G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses of the ancient mythology. I observe that the English ladies here prefer to appear without masks in the costume of the Swiss and Italian peasantry.

There is a very large English society at Rome, and at some of the parties here, you could suppose yourself in Grosvenor Square.

The late political changes have brought together in Rome many persons of the most opposite parties and sentiments, who have fallen from the height of political power and influence into a private station, but who enjoy themselves here unmolested, and even protected by the Government, and are much courted by foreigners. I have seen at the same masquerade, in the _Teatro Aliberti_, in boxes close to each other, the Queen of Spam (mother of Ferdinand VII), and the Princess Borghese, Napoleon's sister. In a box at a short distance from them were Lucian Buonaparte, his wife and daughters. Besides these, the following ex-Sovereigns and persons of distinction, fallen from their high estate, reside in Rome, viz., King Charles IV of Spain; the ex-King of Holland, Louis Buonaparte; the abdicated King of Sardinia, Victor Emanuel; Don Manuel G.o.doy, the Prince of Peace; Cardinal Fesch, and Madame Let.i.tia, the mother of Napoleon.

I had an opportunity of being presented to Lucian, who bears the t.i.tle of Prince of Canino, before I left Rome for Naples, as on leaving the Pays de Vaud I was charged by a Swiss gentleman to deliver a letter to him, the purport of which was to state that he had rendered services to Joseph Napoleon, when he was resident in that Canton, in consequence of which he had been persecuted and deprived of his employment at Lausanne, which was that of Captain of the Gendarmerie; and in the letter he sollicited pecuniary a.s.sistance from the Prince of Canino. I rode out one morning to the Villa of Ruffinella where the Prince resides and was very politely received; it appeared however that the Prince was totally unacquainted with the person who wrote the letter, nor was he at all aware of the circ.u.mstances therein mentioned. I told him that I was but little acquainted with the writer of the letter, but that he, on hearing of my intention of going to Rome, asked me to deliver it personally. The Prince told me he would write himself to the applicant on the subject. Here the negotiation ended; but on my taking leave the Prince said he should be happy to see me whenever I chose to call. The Prince has the character of being an excellent father and husband, and seems entirely and almost exclusively devoted to his family. He has a remarkably fine collection of pictures and statues in his house at Rome.

I had an opportunity likewise of seeing the ex-King of Holland, Louis Napoleon, who seems to be a most excellent and amiable man, and in fact everybody agrees in speaking of him with eulogy.

With regard to the present Pontiff Pius VII, from the excellence of his private character and virtues, and from his una.s.suming manners and goodness of heart, there is but one opinion respecting him. Even those who do not like the ecclesiastical Government, and behold in it the degradation of Italy, render justice to the good qualities of Pius VII. He always displayed the greatest moderation and humanity in prosperity, and in adversity he was firm and dignified. In his morals and habits he is quite a primitive Christian, and if he does not possess that great political talent which has distinguished some of his predecessors, he has been particularly fortunate and discriminating in the choice of his minister, in whom are united ability, firmness, suavity of manner and unimpeachable character. I think I have thus given a faithful delineation of Cardinal Consalvi.

ROME, March 12th.

I have made a very valuable acquaintance in M. K[olle][113] the envoy of the King of Wurtemberg, to the Holy See. He is an enthusiastic admirer of his countryman the poet Schiller, and thro' his means of procuring German books, I am enabled to prosecute my studies in that n.o.ble language. An Italian lady there having heard much of Schiller and Burger, and not being acquainted with the German language, requested me to make an Italian translation of some of the pieces of those poets; chusing the _Leonora_ of Burger as one, and leaving to myself the choice of one from Schiller, I represented the extreme difficulty of the task, but as she had read a sonnet of mine on Lord Guildford's project of establishing an University in the Italian language, she would not hear of any excuse. To work then I set, and completed the translation of _Leonora_, together with one of Schiller's _Feast of Eleusis_. These and my sonnet were the cause of my being recommended for admission as a member of the Academy _degli Arcadi_ in Rome and I received the pastoral name of _Galeso Itaoense_.

The Carnaval is now over and the ladies are all at their _Livres d'Heures_, posting ma.s.ses and prayers to the credit side, to counterbalance the sins and frailties committed during the carnaval in the account which they keep in the Ledger of Heaven. Dancing and masquerading are now over and _Requiems_ and the _Miserere_ the order of the day at the _conversazioni_.

At Mr K[olle]'s house I have become acquainted with Thorwaldsen, the famous Danish sculptor, who is by many considered as the successful rival of Canova; but their respective styles are so different, that a comparison can scarce be made between them. Canova excels in the soft and graceful, in the figures of youthful females and young men; Thorwaldsen in the grave, stern and terrible. In a word, did I wish to have made a Hebe, a Venus, an Antinous, an Apollo, I should charge Canova with their execution. Did I wish for an Ajax, an Hercules, a Neptune, a Jupiter, I should give the preference to Thorwaldsen.

In their private characters they much resemble each other, being both honorable, generous, una.s.suming, and enthusiastic lovers of their profession and of the fine arts hi general.

I have been to see a remarkably fine picture, by a modern French artist, of the name of Granet. It may be considered as the _chef d'oeuvre_ of the perspective or dioramic art. This picture represents the ulterior of the convent of the Capuchins, near the Barberini Palace. The picture is by no means a very large one; but the optical deception is astonishing. You fancy you are standing at the entrance of a long hall and ready to enter it; on looking at it, thro' a piece of paper rolled hi form of a speaking trumpet--which by hiding from the sight the frame of the picture, prevents the illusion from being dissipated--you suppose you could walk into the hall; and each figure of a monk therein appears a real human creature, seen from a long distance, so skilfully has the artist disposed his light and shade. This picture has excited the admiration of connoisseurs, as well as others, and it is universally proclaimed a masterpiece. M. Granet's house is filled every day with persons coming to see this picture, and many repeat their visits several tunes in the week. He has received several orders for copies of this picture, and I fancy he begins to be tired of eternally copying the same thing; for he told me that he wished that the gentlemen who employed him would vary their subjects, and either chuse some other themselves, or let him chuse for them. But no! such is the effect of vogue and fashion, and such the despotic influence they exercise even over the polite arts, that everybody must have a copy of Granet's picture of the interior of the Convent of Capuchins _coute que coute_; so that poor Granet seems bound to this Convent for life; except in the intervals of his labours, he should hit off another subject, with equal felicity, and this alone may perhaps serve to diminish the universal desire of possessing a copy of the Convent. The original picture is destined for the King of France.[114]

I remarked, in the collection of the works of this artist, a small picture representing Galileo in prison, and a monk descending the steps of the dungeon bringing him his scanty meal. A lamp hangs suspended from the roof, in the centre of the dungeon, and the artist has made a very happy hit in throwing the whole glare of the lamp on the countenance of Galileo, who is seated reading a book, while the gaoler monk is left completely in the shade. On seeing this I exclaimed: _Veramente, Signor Granet, e buonissimo quel vostro concetto!_

Easter Tuesday.

I have at length seen all the fine sights that Rome affords during the Holy Week, and have witnessed most of the religious ceremonies, viz., the illuminated cross hi St Peter's on Good Friday; the high ma.s.s celebrated by the Pope in person on Easter Sunday; the Papal benediction from a window of the church above the facade on the same day; the illumination of the facade of St Peter's on Easter Monday, and the _Girandola_ or grand firework at the Castle of St Angelo on the same evening. The ceremony of the Pope washing the feet of twelve poor men I did not see, for I could not get into the Sistine Chapel, where the ceremony was performed: and at the ma.s.s performed by the Pope in the Sistine Chapel I did contrive to enter, but was so oppressed by the crowd and heat, that I almost fainted away, and was very glad to get out of the Chapel again, before the ceremony commenced.

Why in the name of commonsense do they perform these ceremonies in the Sistine Chapel which is small, instead of doing them in the church of St Peter's, which would contain so many people and produce a much grander effect?

A great many people are deprived of seeing the ceremonies in the Sistine Chapel from the difficulty of getting in. The Pope's Swiss Guard attend on that day in their ancient _costume_, with helmets, cuira.s.ses and halberds; these guard the entrance of the staircase leading to the Chapel, and they have no small trouble and difficulty in maintaining order, as there is always a great scuffle to get in, and they are particularly importuned by German visitors, who thinking to be favored by them, in speaking to them in their own language, vociferate; _Ich bin Ihr Landsmann!_ and hope by this to obtain a preference.

On Friday evening a large Cross is erected before the grand altar; every part of this Cross is filled with lamps, and at seven in the evening the whole is illuminated. It has a most brilliant appearance and gives the happiest _chiaro-oscuro_ effect to the statues, columns and pilasters which abound in this vast temple. There is no other light on this occasion than that reflected from the Cross. On Easter Sunday, when the Pope celebrates high ma.s.s in the church of St Peter's, the Papal n.o.ble Guard, composed of young men from the princ.i.p.al families in Rome, form a hedge on each side of the nave of the church, from the entrance of the facade to the grand altar.

The street or interval formed between this double line may be about thirty feet broad, and behind this guard or in any other part of the church, the spectators may stand; but as these guards wear very large feathers in their hats, they intercept very much the sight of those who stand behind them.

The uniform of the Papal n.o.ble Guard is very splendid, being a scarlet coat, covered with gold lace, white feathers, white breeches and long military boots. The approach of the Pope is announced by the thunder of cannon, and he is brought into the Church dressed in full pontificals, with the triple Crown on his head, on a chair borne by men, _palanquin_ fashion; he is conducted thro' the lane formed by the Papal Guard, and as he pa.s.ses he makes the sign of the cross several times with his finger, repeating the words: _Urbi et Orbi_. He is then set down, with his face fronting the baldachin, when he immediately takes off the tiara, and begins the ceremony. That ended, he leaves the church in the same state, and then ascends the staircase, in order to prepare to give the benediction, which is usually given from a window above the facade of the church. The Pope is there seated on a chair with the triple Crown on his head. Troops of cavalry and infantry are drawn up in a semi-circle before the facade of the church, and the whole vast _arena_ of the _Piazza di San Pietro_ is covered with spectators. On a sudden his Holiness rises, extends his hands towards heaven, then spreads them open, and seems as if he scattered something he held in them on the crowd below; a silly young Frenchman who was standing next to me said: _Le voila! Le voila qui arrache la benediction au ciel, et qui la repand sur tout le monde!_ I could not refrain from laughing at this sally, tho' I was much impressed with the solemnity of the scene, which I think one of the grandest and most sublime I ever beheld. This ceremony concluded, salves of ordnance were fired. The Pope retires amidst clouds of smoke, and seems to vanish from the Earth. The troops then fire a _feu de joie_ and move off, playing a march in quick time, and the company disperse.

It is the etiquette on these occasions that no person be admitted either into the church of St Peter or into the Sistine Chapel except in full toilette. The ladies dress generally in black with caps and feathers; the gentlemen either in black full dress or in military uniform. From the variety of foreigners of all nations that are here, most of whom are military men, or int.i.tled to wear military uniforms, much is added to the splendour of the spectacle.

On the evening of Easter Monday, I was present at the illumination of the facade of St Peter's. Rows of lamps are suspended the whole length of the columns and pilasters and all over the cupola, so that, when illuminated, the style of the architecture is perceptible. The illumination takes place almost at once. How it is managed I cannot say; but a splendid illuminated temple seems at once to drop from the clouds, like the work of an enchanter; I say _drop from the clouds_, because the illumination begins from the cross and cupola and is communicated with the rapidity of lightning to every other part of the edifice. About ten o'clock the same evening the most magnificent firework perhaps in the world begins to play from the castle of St Angelo. All kinds of shapes are a.s.sumed by these fireworks: here are castles, paG.o.das, dragons, griffins, etc. These last about an hour and then conclude, and with them conclude all the ceremonies used in commemoration of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Among the sights of Rome I must not omit that of a famous robber of the name of Barbone, who was the terror of the whole surrounding country from the depredations he committed. Having capitulated, and surrendered himself to the Papal Government, he is now confined in the Castle of St Angelo as a state prisoner. His wife, or a woman calling herself so, is confined there with him, and she is said to be a woman of uncommon beauty. It is quite the rage among the English here to go to see these _ill.u.s.trious_ captives, and Madame Barbone, superbly dressed, receives the hommage of the visitors. The d.u.c.h.ess of D[evonshire] is said to have visited her, and made her a present of a pearl necklace. I hope this is not true. Surely the d.u.c.h.ess, who is a woman of talent and an encourager of the fine arts, might have found some other object worthier of her munificence. What claims the mistress, or even the wife, of a public robber can have on the generosity of travellers, I am at a loss to conceive; but such is the _bizarrerie_ and _inconsequence_ of the English, and no doubt, be this story of her Grace of D[evonshire]

having given a present true or not, it will occasion many other presents being made to the captive Princess by a host of silly lord-aping English men and women. Barbone has, it is said, made an excellent capitulation. He has stipulated to be released from prison after a year and a day's confinement, and no doubt he will then resume his old trade of brigandage.

In the meantime he has disbanded his troops, as he calls them; but will his troops obey him, now that he is a captive? will they not rather chuse another leader?

In the time of the French occupation, nothing of this kind took place; but the present Government is weak and timid. I have not been myself to see either Barbone or his wife, but I have heard quite enough about them; they form one of the princ.i.p.al sights in Rome, and I am quite _unfashionable_ in not having gone to visit them; for according to the opinion of my English acquaintance, he who has not seen Barbone and his wife has seen nothing.

I started from Rome on the second of April with a _vetturino_, and on arrival at Baccano, we struck off into a road on the right hand, and arrived at Civita Castellana at a late hour. Civita Castellana merits no further attention, except that it is supposed to stand on the site of the ancient city of Veii. The following day at ten o'clock we reached the small town of Narni. Here are the remains of a beautiful bridge, constructed over the ravine, thro' which flows the river Nera, and which was built in the time of Augustus. It affords a very favorable specimen of the Roman bridge architecture. There is a small chapel here, and it contains, engraved on a stone, a description of a miracle wrought here about four years ago by the Virgin Mary, who saved the life of a postillion. He went into the river to water his horses, when he was carried off by the torrent and would have been drowned, had not the Virgin, on her aid being invoked, dashed into the river and haled him out by the hair of his head. Of this story, to use a phrase of old Josephus,[115] every one may believe as much as he thinks proper; but certain it is that the postillion made oath (which oath is registered) that his life was saved by the Virgin Mary in this manner, and he has put up a votive tablet at her shrine, which remains to this day, commemorative of the event. There is also a Roman aqueduct in the neighbourhood, eleven Italian miles in length.

We arrived at Terni at three o'clock and immediately hired a _caleche_ (the other travellers and myself) to visit the famous cascade of the Velino, about three miles distant from the town of Terni. The road thither is very rugged, and is a continual ascent on the flank of a ravine. For a long time before you arrive on the brink of the cascade, you hear the roaring of the waters; and it certainly is the most magnificent and awe-inspiring sight of the kind I ever beheld. It is far more stupendous than any cascade in Switzerland. That of Tivoli compared to it is as an infant six months old to a Goliath. The Velino forms three successive falls, and the last is tremendous, since it falls from a height of 1,068 feet into the abyss below. The foam and the froth it occasions is terrific; and the spray ascends so high that in standing at the distance of fifty yards from the fall you become as wet as if you had been standing in a shower of rain. The first fall it forms is of 800 feet; the second little less; the third I have stated already. No painting can possibly give a faithful delineation of this, and very possibly no poetic description can give an adequate idea thereof. We pa.s.sed the whole night at Terni and the next morning we stopped to dine at Spoleto. The same evening we arrived at Foligno. Spoleto is a neat town and well paved. Several ruins of ancient buildings are in its vicinity. Before you arrive there, on the left of the road, is an immensely high two-arched bridge. There is an aqueduct likewise just outside the town. We did not omit to read the inscription on the gate of the town, in commemoration of the repulse of Hannibal, who failed in his attempt to make himself master of this city, after having beat the Romans near the lake Trasymene. The gate is called in consequence _Porta Fugae_, and this gate const.i.tutes the princ.i.p.al glory of Spoleto. We were shown the rums of a Palace built by Theodoric. On leaving the town, just outside the gate, we were shewn a bridge which had laid underground for many centuries and had been lately discovered. A bridge was known to have been built here in the time of Augustus, and it is very probably the identical one; we could only see the top and part of the parapet.

Foligno is a large, well built city, neatly paved, populous and commercial, renowned for manufactories of paper, wax, and confectionary.

The whole road between Spoleto and Foligno is thro' a beautiful valley in high cultivation. There is a good deal of rich pasture ground, and it is watered by the river called in ancient tunes c.l.i.tumnus. Here are to be seen a fine breed of white cattle for which this part of the country has been long renowned, which cattle were used, in preference, for sacrifices (_Albi, c.l.i.tumne, greges_).[116] A similar breed is to be found in India and Egypt.

The streets in Foligno are broad. I remarked the _Palazzo Pubblico_ and Cathedral as very fine buildings. Our next day's journey brought us to Perugia, after pa.s.sing by a.s.sisi, the birth place of the famous St Francis, founder of the order of Franciscans. It is situated on an eminence: convents and churches abound therein.

Perugia is a large and opulent city, standing like a fortress on a mountain, and towering over the plain below. It is of steep ascent from the plain, and there are various terraces along the ramparts, commanding several fine points of view of the rich and fertile plains all round. These terraces are planted with trees and form the promenades appertaining to the city. The architecture of the various churches and Palaces is very superior. The streets are broad and every building has an air of magnificence. The Cathedral, dedicated to St Laurence, is well worth visiting; it stands on the _Piazza del Duomo_, where there is a fine fountain ornamented with statues. In the church of St Peter's there are some fine columns of marble and some pictures of Perugino and Raffaello.

[108] Virgil, _Aen_., VI, 886.--ED.

[109] Of the two persons here mentioned, by their initials only, the first, Luigi de' Medici, was chosen as Chancellor of the Exchequer by King Ferdinando in June, 1815. The second was Nugent, an Austrian _marescallo_, who became _capitano generale_ of the Neapolitan army, August, 1816, and _capo del supremo comando_, February, 1817.--ED.

[110] This most distinguished lady, Marianna Candidi, was born in Rome in 1756; her mother, Magdalena Scilla, was the daughter of a well known antiquary of Messina, Agostino Scilla. Marianna learned Latin, drawing and music; she achieved a reputation as landscape painter, and was elected a member of the Academies of St Luke in Rome, of Bologna, Pisa and Philadelphia. She married the lawyer Domenico Dionigi, and gave him seven children, one of whom, Henrietta, became Madame Orfei, and was much esteemed as "improvisatrice." Madame Dionigi herself published several works, among which a _Storia de' tempi presenti_, written in view of the education of her children. Her _salon_ in Rome was frequented by many men of distinction, such as Visconti, d'Agincourt, Erskine, etc. She died on the 10th June, 1826, at the age of seventy.