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 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. 
 
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THE 
 
 PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, 
 
 Jfrom it0 Sl^outJ to it0 »)Oucce: 
 
 WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF ITS TRIBUTARIES. 
 
 Bv WILLIAM DAVIES. 
 
 "Et terrain Hesperiam venies : ubi Lydius, arva 
 Inter opima virum, leni fluit agmine Tybris." — 
 
 Virgil, y£«. ii. 781. 
 
 ["And you shall come to the Hesperian land, 
 "Where Lydian Tiber flows with gentle stream. 
 By fruitful fields of men."] 
 
 SECOND EDITION REVISED. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW & SEARLE. 
 
 1875. 
 
 [The rts;ht of Translation is reseii>cd.'\ 
 
LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. 
 

 
 PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION. 
 
 IT is somewhat singular, in these days of much travelling, 
 that the course of the Tiber, the most classic of all 
 streams, should either never have been completely explored 
 or else no account should have been given of it in its entirety, 
 either in the Italian or English language, as far as I am 
 aware. This is all the more remarkable as it is not only 
 crowded with interesting associations at every turn, but 
 its course also embraces an unsurpassed continuity of the 
 most beautiful and varied scenery that is to be found even 
 in Italy, the favoured land of beauty, poetry, and song. 
 
 It is several years since the project was formed which is 
 here carried out. It was first intended that it should have 
 been a joint work between Mr. C. I. Hemans and my- 
 self; Mr. Hemans having been a long resident in Italy and 
 a close student of its historical antiquities. This, however, 
 Mr. Hemans' uncertain health and numerous engagements 
 prevented him from undertaking. The plan was altered. I 
 took upon myself the task of writing the whole book, look- 
 ing to his large local knowledge for indications and confir- 
 mations where my own was deficient or uncertain. He has 
 also been of very ample use in directing me to authorities. 
 Although the substance of this work is otherwise my own, 
 it would be impossible to overrate the value of the assistance 
 he has rendered to me in these respects. 
 
 iu«nQ€J«f> 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Although we were both familiar with a good part of the 
 river previously to the journey here described, yet on 
 this occasion we conscientiously made the whole tour of it, 
 from its mouth to its source, in order that nothing should be 
 omitted in the account of its course. The journey took 
 about five weeks, leaving out the excursions made from 
 Rome. We were accompanied by two artist friends, one 
 the length of the whole journey, and the other from Perugia ; 
 both of whom lent the aid of their pencils to illustrate our 
 progress. 
 
 Though not very easy to define, my plan of selection in 
 writing this book has been a very special and precise one to 
 myself It may be indicated by the term picturesque. I 
 have not attempted to write a guide book or a history. I 
 have thought it enough to have chosen those events and 
 circumstances which group themselves about my subject 
 wherever their importance and interest may have made 
 their introduction desirable from a picturesque or illus- 
 trative point of view. I have only given as much personal 
 adventure as might serve to string my narrative upon. A 
 few old. stories will be found here, associated or connected 
 with the ancient river, which I hope it will not be thought 
 are repeated once too often. I did not think, however, 
 when treating of the Tiber as a subject that this was the 
 place to omit them. The pictures given from local historians 
 of the mediaeval condition of some of the Tiberine towns, 
 and country, will, I believe, be new to most English readers. 
 The chapter upon the popular songs of central Italy will 
 also probably afford an insight into a quite fresh field of 
 literature, as I do not know that any of them have been 
 brought forward before in the English language. 
 
 As regards the illustrations, it was intended that my 
 artist friends should have prepared their own drawings for 
 the engraver, had not their absence from England pre- 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 vented them from doing so. They have no cause, however, 
 to complain of the way in which their sketches or drawings 
 have been copied. For myself, I must record my special 
 obligations to the engraver of my little drawings, which, 
 for the most part, have been reproduced with perhaps as 
 much fidelity as the nature of the material will allow. 
 
 In conclusion, I can only say that I have left no known 
 source of information unexamined, nor any spot within my 
 limits unexplored, likely to furnish matter of interest. If it 
 were not too presumptuous I should express the hope that 
 my reader may find some analogous pleasure in reading my 
 book to that which I had in making the journey of which 
 it gives the account. 
 
 It may be mentioned that the terms " right " and " left," 
 occurring in these pages, refer to the upward journey. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT TO SECOND 
 EDITION. 
 
 I HAVE to thank several friends and friendly reviewers 
 for the suggestion of a few new episodes which have 
 been here added to my account of the Tiber ; some 
 inadvertences of the former edition have been also cor- 
 rected, so that it is hoped the volume may now present 
 a tolerably complete account of the classic stream of my 
 pilgrimage from the point of view selected for illustration. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I'AGE 
 
 Introductory '.   . . . . . i 
 
 From Ostia to Rome ..... 5 
 Rome. From the Protestant Cemetery to the Tower 
 
 OF Anguillara ..... 32 
 
 Rome. From the Island to the Pons Triumphalis . 61 
 
 Rome. From the Bridge of St. Angelo to the Porta 
 
 DEL PopoLO ...... 79 
 
 From Rome to FiDENiE . . . .126 
 
 From Fiden^e to Scorano .... 166 
 
 Popular Songs of the Tiberine District . . .197 
 
 From Scorano TO Todi . . . . . 215 
 
 Perugia, Assisi, and the River Glitumnus . . 270 
 
 From Perugia TO THE Source . . . . 310 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 St. Peter's and the Vatican, from the Banks of the 
 
 Tiber. Drawn by P. Skelton, from a photograph Frontispiece 
 Map showing the Course of the Tiber . to face page i 
 
 BORGHETTO. By R. P. Leitch, from a photograph „ 217 
 
 GiviTA Bagnorea. By R. P. Leitch, from a drawing 
 
 by Edgar Barclay . . . . „ 237 
 
 The Tiber, near Perugia. By R. P. Leitch, from 
 
 a drawing by Elihu Vedder . . „ 316 
 
 PAGE 
 
 St. Peter's, from the Aventine. By the Author . vii 
 
 Head OF THE Trajan Canal, NEAR OSTiA. By the Author . 4 
 Castle at Ostia. By R. P. Leitch, from a vignette by the 
 
 Author ...... 22 
 
 The Basilica of San Paolo, from the Tiber. By the 
 
 Author . . . . . .31 
 
 Island of the Tiber. By P. Skelton, from a photograph 62 
 
 Castle of St. Angelo do. do. 80 
 The Pincian Hill, from the Villa Borghese. By the 
 
 Author . . . . . . .125 
 
 TivoLi. By P. Skelton, from a photograph . . 143 
 
 Veii, from the Gampagna, from a vignette by the Author . 167 
 
 SORACTE. By the Author . . . . 214 
 
 The Falls of Tert^i. By P. Skelton, from a vignette by 
 
 the Author . . . . . .227 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Tiber from Orte. By R. P. Leitch, from a drawing 
 
 by Edgar Barclay ..... 230 
 
 ToDi. From a drawing by Edgar Barclay . . .261 
 
 Orvieto. By the Author .... 269 
 
 Temple of the Glitumnus. By P. Skelton, from a 
 
 photograph ....... 307 
 
 Church and Convent of St. Francis, at Assisi. By the 
 
 Author ...... 309 
 
 LakeThrasimene. Site of Battle. From a vignette by 
 
 the Author . . . . . .313 
 
 Near the Source of the Tiber. From a drawing by 
 
 Edgar Barclay • . • • • 335 
 
 Gaprese. By P. Skelton, from a vignette by the Author . 338 
 
 •.• The whole of the Illustrations are engraved by J. D. Cooper. 
 
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THE 
 
 PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 BEFORE entering on the more special description of 
 the Tiber and its course I will here give my readers 
 a few general facts concerning it. 
 
 We are told that the Tiber was first called Albula on 
 account of the light colour of its waters ; but that afterwards 
 it took the name of Tiberinus from a certain Alban king, 
 who, being slain on its banks, was carried down by the 
 flood. It probably was only called " white " by a figure of 
 speech — ^just as Virgil called it " Coeruleus Tibris " from the 
 hue reflected on its waters. The tawny-yellow or chestnut 
 colour that really belongs to it, and serves to distinguish 
 it so specially in the lowlands, is communicated by vast 
 quantities of earthy deposit, of which it contains about 
 seventeen per cent, at times of flood, gathered during its 
 course from the regions of Umbria. It takes its rise in 
 the central Apennines, where they trend towards the 
 Adriatic, in the direction of Urbino, on Monte Fumajolo, 
 almost within sight of Rimini. It is joined in its course 
 by many tributaries, which have been variously numbered 
 according to what has been thought worthy of the name. 
 The principal ones are the Anio, the Nar, the Chiana, and 
 the Topino, into which the Clitumnus discharges itself. 
 
 B 
 
2 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. I. 
 
 It flows in a south-westerly direction. Its whole length 
 is about two hundred and sixty miles, its breadth below 
 Rome about two hundred yards. Its current flows at the 
 rate of about three miles an hour. Its elevation at Rome 
 is eighteen to twenty feet above the sea-level. It quickly 
 narrows in the upward direction ; and at Ponte Felice, near 
 Borghetto, not quite sixty miles from its mouth, is now 
 unnavigable for large vessels. It has always been subject 
 to disastrous overflowings ; records of which abound in every 
 historical account of it from the earliest times. Frequent 
 mention is made in earlier epochs of vast numbers of 
 serpents left by these floods wherever they spread, which 
 sometimes added the calamity of pestilence to that of 
 deluge. It would appear from this that the fauna of the 
 contiguous districts must be changed, since they are now 
 seen no longer : perhaps owing to its denudation of wood. 
 The aspect of its neighbourhood must have altered greatly 
 from the time when the wide Campagna stretched its 
 breadth of undulating country in the pride of culture from 
 its shores, and its sides were lined with groves, villas, and 
 mansions from Ostia to Otricoli, a distance of almost 
 seventy miles from its mouth. Some have supposed that 
 its bed has been raised since the historic period ; this, how- 
 ever, can scarcely have been the case to any appreciable 
 extent, as the position of the earliest bridges marks pretty 
 much the same water-level as that which must have pre- 
 vailed nearly two thousand years back. 
 
 During the Middle Ages the water of the Tiber formed 
 the principal drink of the Romans. It was borne for sale 
 through the city on the backs of asses. The mother of 
 Cola di Rienzo was one of these water-vendors. So much 
 was it valued above other waters that the Popes Clement 
 the Seventh and Paul the Third never travelled far without 
 taking a supply of it with them. One can scarcely imagine 
 this muddy fluid to be preferred ; unless, indeed, there were 
 some remnant of the ancient reverence for the stream still 
 lingering to a later period. 
 
Chap. I. INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Its current is a dangerous one. It goes seething through 
 the Campagna like a boiling caldron. He must be a 
 clever swimmer who would breast its treacherous eddies 
 and spreading whirlpools in safety. 
 
 How many memories rise up in the mind as we look at 
 it, and think of the splendid triumphs it has witnessed and 
 of the dark deeds performed on its banks ! It was to its 
 shores that legend sent the heroic Hercules to wash the 
 Iberian heifers after having slain the monster Geryon. It 
 saw -^neas pass to deeds of valour and glory when the 
 saffron-coloured morning rose in the sky and the well- 
 wooded banks were vocal with the songs of many birds. 
 Hither the frenzied Bacchanalians used to rush at dead of 
 night with frantic cries and wild contortions — raving women 
 with floating hair — plunging inextinguishable torches into 
 the stream, symbols of the unquenchable passions that tore 
 and consumed them. Here the sick slaves and abandoned 
 children were left to perish unpityingly, the miserable 
 victims of cruelty and superstition. Borne upon its tawny 
 bosom the consul ^milius entered Rome in a royal galley 
 of sixteen tiers of oars, proud in the gorgeous spoils of the 
 conquered Macedonia, when the whole city flowed out to 
 meet him. Its bed received the body of the flagrant and 
 scandalous emperor Heliogabalus drunk with crime and 
 loathsome through every vice, after he had been massacred 
 by a maddened populace and dragged about the streets 
 of Rome with shouts of ferocious joy. It was into its 
 waters that the ashes of the noble champion of freedom 
 and truth, Arnold of Brescia, were cast, one more victim 
 to the cause of unappreciated philanthropy and liberty. 
 By the Tiber Pope Gregory the Eleventh returned to Rome, 
 together with the functionaries of the papal court, in all the 
 splendour of ecclesiastical pomp, after the seventy- two years* 
 exile of the papacy at Avignon in Provence, landing at 
 St. Paul's amidst the acclamations of vast crowds, whence 
 he was escorted triumphantly into the city. These and a 
 thousand other memories seem to be written on its turbid 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. I. 
 
 wrinkles as they flow down to the sea, bearing everything 
 into oblivion, and veiling the dark secrets of which it has 
 been the unwearied witness through the long course of 
 unnumbered centuries. 
 
 But it is time to commence our journey. 
 
 HEAD OF THE TRAJAN CANAL, NEAR OSTIA. 
 
Chap. II. ( 5 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 
 
 WHEN I went to Italy, in the spring of eighteen 
 hundred and seventy-one, for the special purpose 
 of exploring the Tiber, it was but supplementary to a long 
 previous residence in that country, which had already made 
 me acquainted with a good part of its course. In the first 
 instance, I took up my quarters in Rome, revisiting the 
 various places in the neighbourhood ; some of them more 
 than once. Whilst there I was able to go down the 
 stream to Ostia, in a steamer that leaves Rome weekly for 
 the mouth of the river, for a short time during the spring. 
 On this occasion, and subsequently, I was much indebted 
 to Mr. Welby, the proprietor of the navigation of the river, 
 for much kindness, courtesy, and information. If the 
 Caesars were to come back, what would they say to an 
 Englishman being in virtual possession of the stream they 
 reverenced so sacredly and guarded so jealously ! Yet such 
 at present is the case. 
 
 Early one morning, just when the sun was throwing his 
 first rays over the top of the Aventine, H. and I hastened 
 to the Ripa Grande, and soon after found ourselves steam- 
 ing down the river at a pretty good speed, owing to the 
 rapidity of the current. Our party was a very animated 
 one, consisting altogether of Italians, who were going for a 
 day's run to the sea-side, or to spend a week there with their 
 families. A plethoric band did its best to keep up the 
 
6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 spirits of the company by blowing its loudest. Mirth and 
 hilarity prevailed on every hand. Meals were improvised 
 and every one seemed gay and happy. 
 
 Agreeably to the plan of this volume, I shall not detain 
 the reader during this part of the journey, but take the 
 stream in its upward course from Ostia. 
 
 In two hours we found ourselves at Fiumicino, a strong 
 wind blowing from the sea, and rolling the white breakers 
 far on the strand. 
 
 Immediately on our arrival we left the crowd of holiday 
 makers, taking our way across the Sacred Island to Ostia. 
 
 The Tiber enters the Mediterranean by two mouths, the 
 one below Ostia, which is its natural one, the other at 
 Fiumicino (which we had just navigated), an artificial canal 
 formed by the Roman Emperor Trajan in order to avoid the 
 shoals and sand-banks which obstructed its natural passage. 
 These two outlets are distant from each other about three 
 miles. There was a still earlier cutting made by Claudius 
 from a point higher up the river, which flowed into the sea 
 more to the north, the silting up of which made the present 
 one necessary ; it led into a port long since left inland by 
 the retiring sea, now only showing a few ruins near the 
 hamlet of Porto. The irregular angle formed by the two 
 streams is called the Isola Sacra, or Sacred Island, once 
 famous for the worship of Venus, its fertile summer pastures 
 and abundant winter roses. Now its aspect must be vastly 
 changed. It is a dreary desert of marshy ground, over- 
 grown with the ash-pale asphodel, rampant, reeds and lean, 
 bristling rushes ; roamed by herds of half-wild oxen with 
 enormous horns, which eyed us menacingly as we passed, as 
 if resenting our intrusion on their territory. Here and there 
 a lonely tower or wall rises, forlorn witness of the desola- 
 tion around. To the right of the river is the ancient town 
 of Ostia, once on the sea, but now withdrawn far from it, 
 buried in ruin, choked with thistles, hidden under green 
 corn-fields, which the wind waves over the graves of a 
 thousand households. Everything seems to mourn ; whilst 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 
 
 the sadness is made still more touching by the numerous 
 streets, temples and houses which modern excavations have 
 made bare, showing them pretty much as they were left 
 hundreds of years ago. A few of the most important and 
 interesting may be examined. 
 
 Turning a little from the river, we first observe the naked 
 but substantial walls of what has been supposed a temple of 
 Jupiter of about the second century. A very noble build- 
 ing it must once have been, for on the surface of its brick- 
 work are yet to be seen the holes by means of which it was 
 covered with marbles. A tessellated road extending for a 
 long distance leads us to a wide and imposing flight of steps 
 which were once flanked by Corinthian columns — they are 
 now despoiled of their covering, doubtless a costly one — 
 to the threshold, across the whole breadth of which a solid 
 monolith of African marble is laid, about eighteen feet 
 long and four wide, probably being at least as thick. The 
 interior consists of a vast hall or chamber, almost square, 
 with niches at the sides for statues. At the extreme end 
 facing the entrance, the altar still remains in a despoiled 
 condition, above which is a raised tribune with cells on each 
 side. Over this altar must have stood the image or statue 
 of the presiding deity of the place. There are no means of 
 lighting from without excepting through the doorway — a 
 characteristic common to the temples of both Greece and 
 Rome, in which, perhaps, a solemn and mysterious gloom 
 may have been desired. Beneath this hall is a subterranean 
 chamber supposed to have been used as a place of prepara- 
 tion for the priests before the celebration of the rites of 
 worship. At one side of the temple, and exposed to the 
 open air, is a peribolos or columned enclosure of the sacred 
 precincts of the temple. In it are to be seen some mag- 
 nificent fragments of marble architectural mouldings. 
 
 As the temples of Ostia represent several distinctive 
 forms of religious worship, a slight sketch of their nature 
 in connection with them may not be unacceptable to the 
 reader. 
 
8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 The worship of Jupiter constituted one of the loftiest 
 religious functions of ancient times. He was represented 
 as a majestic figure with a long flowing beard, seated upon 
 a throne, holding a thunderbolt in his right hand and a 
 victory in the other, having at his feet an eagle bearing 
 away Ganymede. The upper part of his body was naked, 
 the lower clothed. All these charaqters were supposed to 
 have a mystic meaning ; the throne denoting stability and 
 security of empire ; the nakedness of the upper part of his 
 body, that he was only visible to the higher intelligences 
 and in the celestial parts of the universe ; the clothing of 
 the lower part, that he was hidden from the inferior world. 
 The sceptre in his right hand signified his omnipotence ; the 
 victory in his left, that he was invincible ; and the eagle, that 
 he was the lord of heaven. 
 
 His worship commanded the highest honours. The first 
 day of every period was dedicated to him by festivals, 
 sacrifices, or libations. He was the Lord of Light ; the 
 white colour was sacred to him. The victims most com- 
 monly offered to him were a goat, a sheep, or a white bull 
 with gilded horns : the lesser offerings made to him were 
 salt, flour, or incense. His chariot was supposed to be 
 drawn by twenty-four white horses ; his priests wore white 
 caps ; the consuls were robed in white when they offered 
 their first sacrifices to him. The oak and the olive were 
 consecrated to him. His worship was largely followed by 
 the Roman ladies. 
 
 Probably the lofty ceremonial of the homage done to 
 him here would be but the shadow of the more splendid 
 rites of the Capitol of Rome, which was considered specially 
 his seat ; but enough is left to us in the proportions and 
 grandeur of this fine temple to certify that his worship even 
 here was no mean thing, and that it bore the significance 
 of the highest form of religious pomp and display. 
 
 Not very distant from this is another temple, with a long 
 colonnaded approach, dedicated to another kind of worship, 
 that of Cybele and Atys. This mysterious form of religion. 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 
 
 or rather superstition, looms out to us through the lurid 
 ages, a dark symbolism and outgrowth of some of the most 
 confusing and incomprehensible elements that lie at the 
 bottom of human nature. It is the communion of those 
 wild and mysterious passions that seem always lying in 
 wait for the unwary to hurl them in their stormy arms on the 
 waves of ever-unsatisfied desire, which bear in their train 
 the furies of anguish, remorse, madness, and self-despair. . 
 
 Cybele appears primarily to have represented the Earth : 
 the great fruitful mother of organic being. The worship 
 of the earth under one form or other is the most ancient 
 and extensive of all worships. It ruled the religious mind 
 of races long passed away. But what is the most remark- 
 able of all, it would appear as if traces of its symbolism 
 still exist in some modern forms of Christianity. In the 
 Capitoline gallery of sculptures at Rome is a bas-relief 
 of a priest of Cybele, bearing in one hand an aspergilhmi 
 for the scattering of consecrated water, and in the other 
 a long scourge and a shell, in which are fruits and a pine 
 cone. From his head depend two strings of beads of 
 recurrent sizes, long enough to have served the devotional 
 purpose of the modern rosary without being taken off. 
 At the sides, besides some musical instrument, are sculp- 
 tured a censer, a pedum, or crooked staff, which may have 
 answered to the ecclesiastical pastoral crook. Lastly, there 
 is the Phrygian cap, of such a form that it might appear to 
 shadow forth the tiara of modern times. 
 
 Diodorus Siculus says that Cybele was the daughter of 
 Meon, king of Lydia, and Dindyme, his wife. The king 
 not desiring that she should be brought up, caused her to 
 be exposed on Mount Cybele (from which she took her 
 name). She was, however, suckled by the leopards and 
 other savage animals. Being here discovered by some 
 shepherdesses, she was carried to their home and brought 
 up amongst them. As she grew up she surpassed her 
 companions as much in wisdom and beauty as in the 
 qualities of genius and invention. She made the stops 
 
lo THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 to the flute, and introduced the use of timbrels and drums. 
 Her love for children, of whom she had saved many from 
 various diseases, gave her the name of Mother in the 
 Mountain. 
 
 Cybele then fell in love with Atys, afterwards called 
 Papas. She was subsequently led by accident to the court 
 of her father, who, discovering her amour, caused Atys 
 to be slain, together with the shepherdess who had first 
 found and rescued her. Upon this she became delirious, 
 and ran through the country shrieking and beating drums. 
 The Phrygians about this time, suffering cruel distempers 
 and severe famine, consulted an oracle, and were thereupon 
 desired to bury Atys and honour Cybele as a goddess. 
 Annual sacrifices were instituted in her honour, and after- 
 wards a stately temple was built to her in the city of 
 Pessinus, in Phrygia. Here her worship was celebrated 
 with great uproar : her priests beating tabrets and striking 
 bucklers with spears, dancing furiously with wild contortions 
 and frantic gesticulations, dark and evil doings being mixed 
 with these violent devotions. 
 
 She was generally represented as a matron holding keys 
 to symbolize the undeveloped treasures of the earth. She 
 wore a wreath of oak : her temples were round, and crowned 
 with turrets to signify the cities built upon the earth. Her 
 chariot was drawn with tame lions, in allusion to the power 
 of culture : the various instruments she bore represented 
 implements of culture. 
 
 Catullus, in one of his odes, describes in a few wonderful 
 lines with the vigour of a master hand the initiation of Atys. 
 After having taken the initiatory rite, by mutilating himself, 
 he seizes the musical instruments and calls upon his fellows 
 to join him in the new worship. "The whole band," says 
 the poet, "forthwith yelled with quivering tongues, the 
 light timbrel booms, the hollow cymbals clash, and up to 
 Ida goes the impetuous rout with hurried steps : with them 
 goes Atys with his timbrel, raving, panting, like one lost 
 and demented, and leads the way through the murky forests, 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. \\ 
 
 like an unbroken heifer shunning the burthen of the yoke. 
 Swiftly the Gallae follow their hasty-footed leader. So when 
 they reach the home of Cybele, wearied with excessive 
 exertion they fall asleep fasting. Heavy sleep covers their 
 drooping eyes with languor, and their raving phrensy sub- 
 sides in soft repose."* Still more finely touched in, perhaps, 
 is the bitter repentance of Atys at his awaking — a repentance 
 that only adds to his fury. Then Cybele lets loose her lions. 
 " * Up, fierce beast, up,' " she says ; " 'go, hence with him, in 
 madness, make him return hence, smitten with madness, 
 into the forest, who audaciously desires to fly from my 
 sway. Up! beat thy flanks with thy tail: lash thyself: 
 make the whole region resound with thy roaring : toss 
 fiercely thy tawny mane on thy tawny neck.' So said 
 terrific Cybele, and unfastened the yokes with her hand. 
 The beast, inciting himself, pricks up his impetuous spirit, 
 runs, roars, and breaks down the bushes in his headlong 
 course. But when he reached the verge of the foam- 
 whitened shore, and saw soft Atys near the breakers, he 
 made a rush. The bewildered wretch fled into the wild 
 forest, and there he remained all his life long the bond-slave 
 of Cybele."t 
 
 * "Simul haec comitibus Atys cecinit notha mulier, 
 Thiasus repente Unguis trepidantibus ululat, 
 Leve tympanum remugit, cava cymbala recrepant. 
 Viridem citus adit Idam properante pede chorus. 
 Furibunda simul, anhelans, vaga vadit, animi egens, 
 Comitata tympano Atys, per opaca nemora dux, 
 Veluti juvenca vitans onus indomita jugi, 
 Rapidae ducem sequuntur Gallae pede propero. 
 Itaque, ut domum Gybelles tetigere, lassulae 
 Nimio e labore somnum capiunt sine Cerere. 
 Piger his labantes languore oculos sopor operit, 
 Abit in quiete molli rabidus furor animi." 
 t Translation in Bohn's series. 
 
 " Agedum, inquit, age ferox, i : face ut hinc furoribus, 
 Face ut hinc furoris ictu reditum in nemora ferat, 
 Mea libere nimis qui fugere imperia cupit. 
 Age, caede terga cauda : tua verbera patere : 
 Face cuncta mugienti fremitu loca retonent: 
 
li THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 The story of the arrival of the image or symbol of Cybele 
 at Ostia and the carrying of it to Rome, is one of those 
 wonderful legends which are made more of by the poet 
 than the historian. It is told by Livy, and finds a lengthy 
 narration by Ovid in one of his finest descriptive poems. It 
 is thus related. 
 
 In the year of Rome five hundred and forty-seven, or about 
 two hundred years before the birth of Christ, in consequence 
 of the fall of numerous showers of stones the Sibylline books 
 were consulted, when a prediction unknown before was found 
 therein, which said that whenever Italy should be invaded 
 by a foreign enemy, the foe should be conquered if the 
 image of the Idaean mother should be brought from Pessinus 
 in Phrygia to Rome. This discovery produced a profound 
 consternation. At the same time notice was received of 
 an approaching contest from the Pythian Apollo at Delphi, 
 in which the Romans should be victorious : also at this time 
 a speedy termination was expected to the war in Africa. 
 It was finally concluded that the oracle at Delphi must be 
 consulted on the best means of obtaining the object pointed 
 out by the Sibylline books. They there learned that it was 
 to be obtained by means of king Attains, and that they 
 must appoint the best man in Rome to receive it. They 
 then went to the king of Pergamus, who conducted 
 them to Pessinus, where a sacred stone was put into their 
 hands, which they were told was the mother of the gods, 
 to be conveyed to Rome. The honourable distinction of 
 receiving it fell upon Publius Scipio Nasica, whose father 
 had been recently killed in Spain ; upon what grounds 
 
 Rutilam ferox torosa cervice quate jubam. — 
 
 Ait haec minax Cybelle, religatque juga manu. 
 
 Ferus ipse sese adhortans rapidum incitat animum : 
 
 Vadit, fremit, refringit virgulta pede vago. 
 
 At ubi ultima albicantis loca littoris adiit, 
 
 Tenerumque vidit Atyn prope marmora pelagi : 
 
 Facit impetum. Ille demens fugit in nemora fera. 
 
 Ibi semper omne vitae spatium famula fuit." O. lxiii. 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 13 
 
 history is silent. He was accordingly sent to Ostia for the 
 purpose. When the ship in which it was carried arrived 
 within sight, Scipio sailed out to meet it, and receiving the 
 stone reverently, placed it in the hands of the matrons, who 
 passing it from one to another, conveyed it to Rome. Ere 
 it reached the city all the people poured out to meet it. 
 Frankincense was burned at every door and propitiatory 
 prayers offered. It was then borne into the temple of 
 victory on the palatine, crowds of persons bringing presents 
 and celebrating the auspicious occasion. The stone was set 
 in silver and worshipped under the name of Cybele. Some 
 have conjectured it to have been an aerolite. The frequent 
 mention of showers of stones by ancient writers leads to 
 the conjecture that falls of meteorolites may have more fre- 
 quently taken place than they do now ; or possibly they 
 may have been volcanic stones thrown from a long distance ; 
 if, indeed, the accounts are not fabulous altogether. 
 
 Adjoining some baths whose mosaics and marbles still 
 attest their former splendour, is a third temple, dedicated to 
 Mithras, the sun-god. The principal court still retains its 
 original plan together with traces of the colonnade by which 
 it was surrounded, doubtless open to the sky, but communi- 
 cating with a wide chamber of brickwork masonry, which 
 leads through an atrium into an interior one. On the 
 floor of the court, which is of marble, a mosaic inscription 
 signifies that L. Agrius Calendio gave and dedicated the 
 temple (or perhaps only the mosaic) to the invincible sun- 
 god Mithras. In a raised apse near the altar once covered 
 with costly marbles were found three statues of Mithras and 
 priests, with traces of gilding on the vestments, each bearing 
 a torch ; one lowered, another lifted, the third, upon which 
 a priest leans, being extinguished. Fragments of other 
 sculptures were also found there. 
 
 This singular form of worship, probably of extreme 
 antiquity in the East, appears to have been first made 
 known in Italy by the companions of Pompey the Great 
 on their return from the Oriental campaigns under that 
 
14 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. II. 
 
 general in the century before the Christian era ; but it does 
 not seem to have prevailed much in the western world until 
 two or three centuries later. 
 
 Mithras was regarded as belonging to the realms of both 
 Light and Darkness : as the genius between the Sun and the 
 Moon : as the Reconciler between the Persian deities Ormuzd 
 and Ahriman, who were the authors of Good and Evil : as 
 the Demiurge or Creator of the Universe : as the conductor 
 of souls through the signs of the zodiac, first, to mortal life 
 in the world, and then to the supreme source of all things 
 through death. According to some, he not only fashioned the 
 world, but contains in himself the seeds of all life — just as 
 the Nicene creed defines the Holy Ghost, the Lord and 
 Giver of life. He also partakes of the passions and sorrows 
 of men, here offering another analogy with Christianity ; 
 and finally triumphs over Darkness and Evil. 
 
 The symbolism by which he is represented may be thus 
 explained. Mithras slays a bull, which represents the 
 fructifying earth, whose flank being open causes the vivi- 
 fying blood to flow forth. Spring stands beside him as a 
 youth with an uplifted torch ; also symbolized as a growing 
 tree. Autumn as an old man with a reverted torch, is the 
 bearer of ripened fruits, represented as a tree also. A 
 serpent, a scorpion, and a dog (standing for the constella- 
 tions through which the sun passes during the summer 
 months) prey upon the bull, or assist the god in causing its 
 blood to flow. The eagle and the hawk, symbols of the 
 Oriental deity Ormuzd, sometimes soar near. Progressive 
 mystic initiations formed a prominent part of Mithraic 
 rites, as in those of Cybele. The two trainings, however, 
 differed considerably ; the votaries of Cybele being educated 
 through noise and uproar, those of Mithras in stillness and 
 seclusion. The initiation of the latter was performed in 
 caves where, secluded from light and all company, the 
 probationers underwent eighty different kinds of tortures 
 or expiations. Many were not able to endure these severe 
 preparations, and died in the noviciate : often enough 
 
CHAP. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 15 
 
 those who survived were so crazed and shaken in mind, 
 as never to recover their former condition. A relief found 
 in the Tyrol represents the Mithraic worshippers seated at 
 a feast, which would remind one of the Agape, or " Love- 
 Feast," of the early Christians. There is a raised platform 
 round the Mithreum of the newly-discovered temple at the 
 church of San Clemente at Rome, which, it is thought, may 
 have served such a purpose. An interesting discovery of a 
 tablet consisting of the figure of Mithras, surrounded by an 
 egg-shaped zone, on which are represented the signs of the 
 zodiac, was made at Borcovicus (now Housesteads), on the 
 Roman Wall in Northumberland.* In the same cave was 
 found an altar with a dedicatory inscription. 
 
 Leaving these temples, it is saddening to walk through 
 the deserted streets and houses of this bygone town. Floors 
 covered with rich mosaics are now left open to the sky : 
 mutilated statues keep forlorn state amongst unshorn grass 
 and rank weeds : large jars for corn and wine, sunk into 
 the ground, witness of buying and selling before Death had 
 struck the last bargain : the worn pavements mark the 
 passage of vehicles : everywhere are seen the signs of life 
 and activity, long since ended, of an energetic and pros- 
 perous people, whose former home is usurped by the 
 humming bee, the burly beetle, and the music-loving 
 lizard. 
 
 Vastly different from the spreading solitude now before 
 us must this inhospitable coast have appeared when ^neas, 
 after bis long voyage, found its welcome shelter, so finely 
 described by Virgil in the opening of the seventh book of 
 the ^neid, if, indeed, it be anything more than a poetic 
 fiction. He says : "And now the sea began to blush with 
 the morning rays, and in the lofty firmament saffron aurora 
 
 * There is an engraving given of this in the Rev. J. Collingwood Bruce's 
 w^ork on the Roman Wall, p. 398. I am not able to read its symbolism 
 clearly from the engraving. It would be curious to see if it numbered 
 thirteen signs of the zodiac, as used by the Anglo-Saxons, an example of 
 which may be seen round the doorway of the Church of St. Margaret at 
 York. 
 
i6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 shone in her car of rosy hue, when the winds at once 
 dropped, and every breath of air suddenly subsided, and 
 the oars labour in the lazy water. And here ^Eneas from 
 the sea beholds a great grove. The Tiber divides it with 
 his pleasant stream, a river with whirling eddies, and yellow 
 with thick sand ; here it bursts forth into the sea ; around 
 and above were birds of various plumage, which, haunting 
 the banks and channel of the stream, charmed the air with 
 their song, and flew in the grove. The prince bids his 
 comrades turn their course, and put their prows towards 
 the land, and gladly takes shelter in the shady river." * 
 
 The mouth of the Tiber, according to Dionysius, was first 
 adapted for a sea-port, and the city of Ostia (which means 
 a port, or entrance) built by Ancus Martius, the fourth 
 king of Rome, somewhat more than six hundred years 
 before the Christian era. The harbour was reconstructed 
 and additions made to it by the emperor Claudius, six or 
 seven centuries later, He carried out pillars on each side, 
 and formed a mole to protect the entrance, sinking the 
 huge vessel in which the obelisk now standing in front of 
 St. Peter's at Rome had been brought from Heliopolis, and 
 raising a lofty lighthouse upon piles laid upon it. 
 
 The silting up of this harbour caused another to be 
 subsequently undertaken by the emperor Trajan, and a 
 new canal cut, which is the branch of the river still navi- 
 gated, known as the Fiumicino, or little river. 
 
 * Globe translation. 
 
 " Jamque rubescebat radiis mare, et aethere ab alto 
 Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis: 
 Gum venti posuere, omnisque repente resedit 
 Flatus, et in lento luctantur marmore tonsas. 
 Atque hie ^tineas ingentem ex aequore lucum 
 Prospicit. Hunc inter fluvio Tiberinus amoeno, 
 Vorticibus rapidis, et multa flavus arena, 
 In mare prorumpit. Variae circumque supraque 
 Assuetje ripis volucres et fluminis alveo 
 .^thera mulcebant cantu, lucoque volabant. 
 Flectere iter sociis terraeque advertere proras 
 Imperat, et laetus fluvio succedit opaco." 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 17 
 
 Strabo says that in his time (about the beginning of 
 the Christian era) Ostia had no port, owing to alluvial 
 deposit, and that numerous vessels plied in the open sea as 
 lighters to freight and unload the larger ships, which could 
 not even be anchored near the shore without danger. It 
 was desirable to relieve those vessels of a part of their 
 burden which were going to Rome, in order that they 
 might make a speedy voyage up the river. In the fourth 
 century the place began to fall into decay, and was 
 shortly afterwards all but abandoned. Its destruction was 
 completed by the Saracens in the ninth century, at which 
 period we hear of it again as the Gregoriopolis of Pope 
 Gregory the Fourth, who built the present hamlet, sur- 
 rounding it with walls. In the same century it received 
 a notable defeat in an engagement with the Saracens, 
 -which is represented by Raphael on the walls of the 
 Stanze at the Vatican. It maintained a military position 
 of importance for long afterwards during the Middle Ages. 
 Early in the seventeenth century it again fell into neglect 
 and disuse, the melancholy and deserted place we now 
 see it. 
 
 Those of my readers who are acquainted with the remark- 
 able dialogue called ' Octavius ' by Marcus Minucius Felix, 
 upon the relative claims of Paganism and Christianity, will 
 recollect that it is described as having taken place at Ostia. 
 Minucius, supposed to have been an African by birth, was a 
 lawyer at Rome, living, probably, in the third century. 
 The dialogue is carried on by two friends, Caecilius, a 
 heathen, and Octavius, a Christian, Minucius being placed 
 between the two in the character of umpire or listener. 
 After describing their walk from Rome to Ostia, whither 
 they went for the benefit of the sea at the Autumn vacation, 
 he pictures their arrival at the shore. He says, " There the 
 gentle surges had smoothed the outermost sands like a 
 pleasure walk ; and as the sea, although the winds blew 
 not, is ever unquiet, it came forward to the shore, not hoary 
 and foaming, but with waves gently swelling and curled. 
 
 C 
 
i8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THEZTIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 On this occasion we were agreeably amused by the varieties 
 of its appearance ; for as we stood on the margin and 
 dipped the soles of our feet into the water, the wave alter- 
 nately struck at us, and then receding and sliding away, 
 seemed to swallow up itself." He proceeds to describe 
 their saunterings on the beach in the same graphic and 
 picturesque manner. — " We walked slowly and composedly, 
 and coasted along the easy bend of the shore, beguiling the 
 way all the while with accounts of navigation given by 
 Octavius. Having walked far enough for pleasure without 
 fatigue, we returned by the same way, and we came to that 
 place where small vessels are laid upon a frame of 
 oak to prevent their being rotted by contact with the 
 ground. There we saw some boys eagerly engaged In 
 the game of throwing shells into the sea. The nature 
 of the game is this : from the beach they choose a shell, 
 thin and polished by the waves ; they hold it in a horizontal 
 position, and then whirl it along as near the surface of the 
 sea as possible, so as to make it skim the surge in its even 
 motion, or spring up and bound from time to time out 
 of the water. That boy is conqueror whose shell both runs 
 out farthest and bounds oftenest." 
 
 Presently they sat down, when the dialogue was opened 
 by Csecilius urging the claims of heathenism against those 
 of Christianity. He was replied to by Octavius with so 
 much force and cogency that he became converted on the 
 spot. Nothing can be more calm and impartial than 
 the manner in which the claims of each are viewed and 
 commented upon. Although the dialogue may have lost 
 some of its point as a repertory of argument, it is still 
 valuable for its large mode of treatment as well as for the 
 account which It embodies of the two systems of religion, as 
 they stood at that time, both in themselves and in regard to 
 each other. 
 
 A very touching incident Is brought home to us here 
 in the death of Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, 
 in the year three hundred and eighty-seven. After his 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 19 
 
 conversion they were returning to Africa in company with 
 a newly baptized court-officer Euodius, when his mother 
 was taken ill, and after nine days' sickness she died. 
 St. Augustine gives an affecting description of her last days 
 and their rapturous communion of spirit in the ' Confes- 
 sions.' He says, '* The day now approaching whereon she 
 was to depart this life, (which day, Thou well knewest, we 
 knew not,) it came to pass, Thyself, as I believe, by Thy 
 secret ways so ordering it, that she and I stood alone, 
 leaning in a certain window, which looked into the garden of 
 the house where we now lay, at Ostia ; where, removed from 
 the din of men, we were recruiting from the fatigues of 
 a long journey for the voyage. We were discoursing then 
 together, alone, very sweetly ; and ' forgetting those things 
 which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things 
 which are before,' we were enquiring between ourselves 
 in the presence of the Truth, which Thou art, of what sort 
 the eternal life of the saints was to be, ' which eye hath not 
 seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart 
 of man.' But yet we gasped with the mouth of our heart 
 after those heavenly streams of thy fountain, 'the fountain of 
 life,' which is 'with thee;' that being bedewed thence according 
 to our capacity, we might in some sort meditate upon so 
 high a mystery. And when our discourse was brought to 
 that point that the very highest delight of the earthly senses, 
 in the very purest material light, was, in respect of the 
 sweetness of that life, not only not worthy of comparison, but 
 not even of mention ; we, raising up ourselves with a more 
 glowing affection towards the * Self-same,' did by degrees 
 pass through all things bodily, even the very heaven, whence 
 sun and moon and stars shine upon the earth ; yea, we were 
 soaring yet, by inward musing and discourse and admiring of 
 Thy works ; and we came to our own minds and went beyond 
 them, that we might arrive at that region of never-failing 
 plenty, where * Thou feedest Israel ' for ever with the food 
 of truth, and where life is the * Wisdom by whom all ' these 
 ' things are made,' and what have been, and what shall be." 
 
 C 2 
 
20 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 Five days after this she fell sick and fainted, and on her 
 recovery she said, " Here shall you bury your mother." It 
 had been her wish to have lain beside her husband, but 
 perhaps in the nearness of that sublime vision the veil of 
 the flesh had been melted away in the light of the Eternal, 
 and the immortal and spiritual life already entered upon 
 before leaving this. " On the ninth day of her sickness," 
 says Augustine, " and ' the fifty-sixth year of her age and 
 the three and thirtieth of mine, was that religious and holy 
 soul freed from the body." After Augustine had closed her 
 eyes, an attendant boy broke out into a loud lament, but 
 being checked, an awe-struck silence prevailed, when 
 Euodius began to sing a psalm, wherein many religious 
 persons presently joined them. With faithful self-command 
 Augustine refrained his "flood of grief ;" but he adds patheti- 
 cally, " I knew what I was keeping down in my heart." 
 She was buried without tears but not without sorrow. Thus 
 passed away one of the world's types of women, loving and 
 lovely to the utmost perfection of loveliness. 
 
 A little to the north of Ostia and the Island is situated 
 the ancient Portus or port of Claudius. It will be remem- 
 bered by the student of ecclesiastical history as having 
 been the seat of a bishopric occupied in the early part of 
 the third century by Hippolytus, one of the noblest orna- 
 ments and most heroic martyrs of the primitive Church, 
 affording a fine example of that singleness and simplicity 
 with which it was first governed. He lived in the early 
 part of the third century, and wrote the Refutation of all 
 Heresies (first attributed to Origen). Its chief value now 
 is that of a history or account of the various religious faiths 
 of his time. Bunsen, in his ' Hippolytus and his Age,' thus 
 sums up the character of this remarkable man. "This 
 noble character and warm heart, combined with a rare 
 knowledge and able use of speculative as well as moral 
 Grecian philosophy, an enlightened and effectual zeal for 
 infusing the hellenic element of thought and intellectual 
 liberty into the Western Church, and that conscientious 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 21 
 
 struggle for truth, against falsehood and violence, which was 
 crowned by martyrdom ; these are the eminent qualities 
 which made Hippolytus dear to his congregation and to the 
 Churches of the East and West, and which ensure to the 
 author of the Refutation an honourable place among the 
 good men and the leading minds of ancient Christendom." 
 
 By far the most conspicuous object presented to us on the 
 whole undulating deltaic country which carries the eye to the 
 gloomy belt of pines which lines the coast here, is an old 
 castle, consisting of an enormous round tower and four square 
 walls, companioned by a solitary stone-pine that spreads 
 out its huge head of foliage high in the air, a little bent with 
 the sea-winds against which it has so long battled. This 
 castle was built by Sangallo for the warlike cardinal Delia 
 Rovere, who afterwards made his way to the papal throne 
 rather by force of arms than the higher and more peaceable 
 virtues of Christian life. He was called Julius the Second. 
 " The elevation of Alexander the Sixth," says Roscoe, in 
 narrating the circumstance, " was the signal of flight to 
 such of the cardinals as had opposed his election. Giuliano 
 della Rovere, who to a martial spirit united a personal 
 hatred to Alexander, insomuch that in one of their quarrels 
 the dispute had terminated with blows, thought it prudent 
 to consult his safety by retiring to Ostia, of which place he 
 was bishop. Here he fortified himself as for a siege, 
 alleging that he could not trust 'the traitor,' by which 
 appellation he had been accustomed to distinguish his 
 ancient adversary." 
 
 Near Ostia are some salt pits, or marshes, in which the 
 water of the sea is received and then evaporated. The 
 salt thus produced is of a yellow hue, owing to an ad- 
 mixture of the waters of the Tiber. These were formed by 
 Ancus Martius, and must not be confused with those 
 exacted from the Veientes as hostages of peace by Romu- 
 lus when he overcame them at Fidenae, since those must 
 have been on the other side of the river ; on the Etrurian, 
 and not the Latian side, as Canina justly remarks. 
 
22 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 Dante makes Ostia, " Dove V acqua di Tevere s' insala " 
 (where the water of the Tiber becomes salt), the entrance into 
 Purgatory, as syrnbolical of the seat of the church at Rome. 
 
 If the reader is not already tired of this dreary region, 
 let him prolong his walk southward about two miles to 
 
 CASTLE AT OSTIA. 
 
 Castel Fusano, a modern castellated mansion, ghostlike in 
 its lonely gloom, belonging to the Chigi family. It is 
 situated in the skirts of a forest of pines, stretching for 
 miles along the coast. Being not very distant from the 
 sea, it was fortified to withstand the attacks of the Barbary 
 corsairs in the seventeenth century. It is a large, solid- 
 looking residence ; its roof being on a level with the lofty 
 trees, whose umbrageous tops look like a garden suspended 
 in the air. But by what sombre shades is it surrounded ! 
 Funereal plumes of dark pines hang over glassy pools of 
 stagnant water, grown with reeds and rushes and rank 
 grass, as if they mourned the lonely desolation of the spot ; 
 and if any cheerful breeze comes by, laden with pleasant 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 23 
 
 murmurs of the sea, it sinks to a whisper there, and dies 
 amongst the branches with a feeble wail. Even the sun- 
 shine puts on a sobered look within these dismal precincts, 
 whilst Melancholy sits brooding in the solitude, with 
 Miasma and Malaria by her side, fed with the consuming 
 fires of slow fever and shivering ague. It has an eery sound, 
 too, the wind at night in these dusky pines, when the 
 December clouds have crushed the day down to a narrow 
 streak at the horizon, and the dry reeds shriek with subdued 
 voices, and the withered weeds, gaunt and grey, wave and 
 whisper ominously. Then let the sad heart keep away 
 from them, for they will tell it over and over again in 
 wearisome tones all the sorrow that ever it knew. 
 
 This forest is the ancient Silva Laurentina. It is the 
 site of one of the most touching episodes in the -^neid of 
 Virgil — the deaths of the fast friends Nisus and Euryalus, 
 in the war waged by -^neas against the Rutulian king 
 Turnus, in dispute for the hand of the fair Lavinia. 
 
 One night as they were both on guard together, 
 Nisus, in the desire to distinguish himself, inquired of 
 Euryalus, " Do the gods inspire men's souls with this ardour, 
 or does each man make a god of his own strong passions V 
 and then went on to say that the Rutulian watch-fires 
 were slowly dying down, and that, overcome with wine 
 and sleep, their enemies no longer maintained their guard, 
 and proposed to go to ^Eneas, that he might summon a 
 council, and allow them to enter the enemy's camp. Having 
 obtained permission, they went thither. After slaying a 
 number of their sleeping foes, and lading themselves with 
 booty, they prepared to return, when they were met by a 
 troop of horsemen sent from the town of Latinus, who, 
 espying the helmet of Euryalus, challenged them. They 
 fled into the forest, relying on the darkness to conceal 
 them ; but Euryalus was surrounded and taken.- Although 
 Nisus had reached a place of safety, yet, missing his friend, 
 he turned back in search of him. Presently he discerned 
 the horsemen, and unperceived, threw several darts with 
 
24 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II 
 
 fatal effect. After searching in vain for the source of these 
 missiles, their leader, Volscens, ran upon Euryalus, exclaim- 
 ing that his life should pay for both. Nisus immediately- 
 hastened from his hiding-place and confessed himself the 
 author of the mischief ; but too late to save his friend, in 
 whose body the sword of Volscens was already buried. 
 Rushing furiously with whirling sword upon Volscens, 
 Nisus plunged it into his throat, and then throwing himself 
 on the corpse of his friend, died, pierced with many a wound, 
 their blood mingling on the turf* 
 
 After a long day's ramble we found ourselves once more 
 in the vicinity of Fiumicino, but knowing that the little 
 place would be filled to the utmost, we went into a small 
 road-side osteria, not offering, it is true, a very luxurious 
 interior — in fact it very much bore the appearance of an 
 English stable on the first entry ; but experience had taught 
 us that we should here very likely find tolerable cookery in 
 a rough way, decent wine and a clean white napkin, how- 
 ever coarse ; in no particular of which were we disap- 
 pointed. 
 
 The salt placed upon the table was noticeable as being 
 of a similar kind, and made in the same place as that which 
 had been in use thousands of years before, produced by 
 evaporating the salt water on the flats at the mouth of the 
 river, as already mentioned. 
 
 When we reached Fiumicino the afternoon sun was 
 sloping downwards, and the steamer at the head of the canal 
 was panting and blowing as if to inform the passengers that 
 the hour of departure was approaching. We strolled down 
 to the coast. Immense breakers were rolling up the sand, 
 and the little wooden jetty was deluged with the waves. 
 
 No sooner however had we begun to ascend the canal of 
 Trajan, and the roar of the ocean to die on the ear, and the 
 old ruins to grow less in the distance behind us, than ,the 
 wind sank, and a calm pervaded the atmosphere. The 
 canal is not quite straight, but follows a somewhat sinuous 
 * Virg. ^n. ix. 176. 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 25 
 
 direction. Along its banks the remains of brickwork are still 
 visible. Two or three tall poplars with crowning masses of 
 foliage, looking like pines, stand at the head of it. Soon 
 we entered the ancient stream. As the labouring vessel 
 panted and pushed its difficult way up the swift current, a 
 soft evening sun spread a rich mantle over the surrounding 
 prospect. The blue sky, the glittering river laden with 
 infinite memories, the sweeping Campagna, the distant 
 mountains, so faint and thin that the white villages and 
 towns upon them appeared to hang suspended in the air — all 
 seemed to take the magic of the time, clothing themselves 
 rather in the hues of a beautiful dream than the substantial 
 colours of waking reality. On the steep sides of the river 
 tiled tombs are seen, some gaping to the light, others still 
 sealed, in which repose the ashes of the dead, sometime to 
 be exposed rudely by the swelling current or the curious 
 inquiry of the antiquary. All along, too, traces of masonry 
 may be observed just above the water's edge ; probably the 
 remains of houses and other buildings which occupied its 
 banks. As we passed along the shores the wide difference 
 between their present and former condition was thrust upon 
 my mind. I imagined them covered with fair gardens 
 sloping down to the water's edge, with long alleys of trees 
 and trimly cut shrubs and bushes. I imagined the weary 
 citizen retired for his villeggiattira, from the toil and bustle 
 of Rome, standing with wife and child by his balustraded 
 terrace as the slow ship was towed up the river by labouring 
 oxen, or the slave-rowed galley dipped its tiers of oars into 
 the whirling current, fighting its way to the far-off city be- 
 tween sombre masses of pendulous foliage. Now, indeed, all 
 is changed. The white heron watches for his prey on bare 
 banks, or flaps across the stream with the slow beat of his 
 broad wings ; skimming sand-martins flutter over its eddying 
 surface ; various kinds of piper haunt the water's edge ; the 
 wheeling hawk lingers and sails in the air ; the many- 
 coloured bee-eater burrows in the crumbling banks, or flies 
 over, uttering his low, soft whistle, whilst great herds of 
 
26 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 shaggy cattle stand where the river has left a dry bed 
 of sand or mud, whisking their tails and enjoying the 
 coolness. 
 
 To all this the people on board the vessel appeared to be 
 for the most part supremely indifferent. Nor should it be 
 matter of surprise. Italians are so accustomed to the beauty 
 and antiquities that everywhere surround them, that it is 
 no wonder that a great proportion of them should pass un- 
 remarked. If they had always to bear with them the great 
 burden of the past, records of which meet them at every turn, 
 there would be no room for the thoughts and feelings of to- 
 day. So they, not unwisely, perhaps, gave themselves to the 
 enjoyment of the hour, laughing, joking, chatting, eating and 
 drinking with the utmost gaiety and good-humour. The band 
 grew louder and louder, probably on the strength of the 
 wine of Fiumicino, blowing till it was red in the face, and 
 hardly ever pausing to take breath. I stood on the captain's 
 deck, alternately gazing at the prospect and watching the 
 animated scene beneath. Presently a band of sailors (if 
 such they might be called who had come to assist the work- 
 ing of the vessel) came and sat below me. There were men 
 old and young, together with a number of boys, whose 
 duties seemed to be chiefly that of hopping about like frogs, 
 of which every Italian vessel that ever I sailed in was 
 always full. I counted fourteen of these able assistants 
 once on a Neapolitan ferry-boat. One of this particular 
 group took some salt, and laying it upon the deck without 
 so much as blowing the dust away, set his heel upon it to 
 reduce it to powder, which was the signal to begin. I 
 cannot tell what they ate, nor what they drank, but if it 
 were not of the best, its deficiencies were amply compen- 
 sated by the mirth and contentment that prevailed amongst 
 them. 
 
 Perhaps the most picturesque point of the river between 
 Rome and its mouth is Dragoncello, a lonely tenuta, or 
 farm-house, situated on an elevation clothed with trees and 
 verdure, which Nibby identifies as the probable site of 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 27 
 
 Ficana, conquered by the Romans under Ancus Martius.* 
 Not far from here is Magliana, now turned into a farm- 
 house and buildings, though formerly the favourite residence 
 of several of the popes. It consists of a long extent of low 
 grey buildings lying on the left bank, situated in a plain 
 surrounded by sweeping hillocks. On the south rise the 
 Alban hills, and more to the east the more elevated Sabine 
 range, with its tender and beautiful lines. A lofty stone 
 gateway gives entrance to the court, which is flanked on 
 two sides by the principal buildings turreted and castellated, 
 having a fine fountain in the middle. 
 
 Some frescoes attributed to Raphael ornament the walls. 
 It is now a dreary and desolate range of building, but 
 was once the favourite retreat of Leo the Tenth during the 
 hunting season. It was here that he took his last illness, 
 the circumstances of which are thus narrated by Ranke in 
 his ' History of the Popes.' 
 
 " At the diet of Worms, in the year fifteen hundred and 
 twenty-one, where the religious and political affairs of 
 Europe were discussed, Leo concluded a treaty with 
 Charles the Fifth for the reconquest of Milan," then under 
 the dominion of Francis the First of France. 
 
 " Leo was at his villa at Magliana when the news of the 
 entry of his troops into Milan was brought to him. He 
 gave himself up to the feeling which is wont to accompany 
 the successful termination of an enterprise, and contemplated 
 with pleasure the festivities with which his people were pre- 
 paring to celebrate his triumph. Up to a late hour in the 
 night he went backwards and forwards from the window 
 to the blazing hearth ; it was in November. Somewhat 
 exhausted, but full of joy and exultation, he returned 
 to Rome. The rejoicings for the victory were just ended, 
 when he was attacked by a mortal disease. *Pray for 
 me,' said he to his attendants, ' that I may still make you 
 all happy.' He loved life, but his hour was come. He 
 had not time to receive the viaticum, nor extreme unction. 
 * See Livy, i. 33. 
 
28 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 So suddenly, so early, so full of high hopes, he died as the 
 poppy fadeth." 
 
 " The Roman people," adds Ranke, " could not forgive 
 him for dying without the sacraments, for spending so 
 much money, and for leaving debts. They accompanied 
 his body to the grave with words of reproach and indigna- 
 tion. * You glided in like a fox,' said they ; * you ruled like 
 a lion, you died like a dog.* Posterity, however, has stamped 
 a century, and a great epoch in the advancement of the 
 human race, with his name." 
 
 Passing by Tor di Valle, where the emissary of the Alban 
 Lake, made before the fall of Veii, discharges itself into the 
 river, the church of San Paolo alle Tre Fontane comes into 
 view, a little removed from the banks on the right, about 
 two miles distant from Rome. 
 
 On the spot where this church stands St. Paul is said to 
 have been beheaded. There is a fragment of a column 
 shown on which he is supposed to have suffered. Near 
 the altar are three several springs of water, said to mark 
 the places where the head fell and rebounded. On the 
 floor some curious and rude mosaics from Ostia sym- 
 bolize the four seasons. There are also two other churches 
 near. One of them contains some fine mosaics of the 
 modern school. But the most interesting of the three 
 is an old basilica built by Honorius the First in the year 
 six hundred and twenty-six, affording an excellent sample 
 of the earliest form of Christian architecture in its tran- 
 sition from the ancient pagan temple. It has eight 
 arches on either side, supported by pilasters. The roof 
 is open woodwork, the wide nave being without chapels. 
 In the front of the church is a portico supported by 
 granite columns. 
 
 The neighbouring monastery is inhabited by Trappist 
 monks. It would be difficult to imagine a more dreary spot 
 than that of this little settlement. Buried in a hollow of 
 the Campagna, surrounded by desolate hills laid bare 
 in many places for the pozzolana earth which they contain. 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 29 
 
 removed from other habitations, in an unhealthy locality, 
 it must surely be trying to the resident religious com- 
 munity. Perhaps, however, the wholesome rule of living 
 by the labour of their own hands, the quiet retirement and 
 peaceful thoughts nourished thereby, may enable these 
 recluses to support so uncircumstantial an existence with 
 satisfaction. 
 
 A mile nearer to Rome, and close to the river, the Basilica 
 of St. Paul stands, which early tradition marks as his burial- 
 place. This splendid temple occupies the position of what 
 was formerly one of the noblest monuments of Christian 
 architectural art — the ancient Basilica of St. Paul, once 
 under the protection of the kings of England, begun in the 
 year three hundred and eighty-eight on the site of one still 
 more ancient over the remains of a Roman Christian lady. 
 This was destroyed by fire in eighteen hundred and twenty- 
 three, and of all its costly marbles and mosaics only a few 
 fragments were saved. Large sums were immediately 
 collected and set aside for its restoration. Whatever the 
 former building may have been, it is not easy to imagine 
 anything grander in its manner than that which has now 
 taken its place. 
 
 It has a spacious nave surmounted by large mosaic 
 portraits of the popes from the earliest times ; four ranges 
 of enormous polished granite columns on either side sup- 
 porting a ceiling of carved and gilded woodwork : the floor 
 is of polished marble, in which these columns are reflected 
 as in a mirror. The fine altar and baldacchino borne on 
 pillars of alabaster, the noble mosaics saved from the 
 ancient church in the apse, the precious stones of costliest 
 inlay with which the church is lined, the open, airy look 
 communicated by the abundant light falling everywhere on 
 objects of splendour, fill the mind with amazement and 
 defy description. It must be confessed, however, that the 
 tender and reflective nature of the Christian religion would 
 seem to demand a more pensive atmosphere, more subdued 
 lights and quieter surroundings whereon to rest the eye in 
 
30 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. II. 
 
 its most devotional moods. This gorgeous fabric would 
 more remind one of the ordered grace and elegance of some 
 magnificent pagan temple of old than of the toned and 
 softened accessories with which Christian worship loves to 
 surround itself. 
 
 Perhaps the more thoughful visitor will be better satisfied 
 with the tranquil images presented to the mind in the tasteful 
 fancies of the adjoining cloister. Gracefully carved columns 
 supporting the roof inclose a square patch of picturesque 
 garden-ground. Once these columns were inlaid with mo- 
 saics, but time and sacrilegious hands have now carried 
 them almost all away. Here the sunshine rests, seen from 
 pleasant shade, where the good brothers of former days 
 have walked and mused in the still hours of recreation. 
 There yet seems to linger an ancestral devotion about its 
 quaint flower-beds and crumbling walls which time cannot 
 destroy. 
 
 Nothing can be conceived more unattractive than the 
 external appearance of this wonderful temple. Bare, blank 
 walls of light blink with straight, ugly-looking slits for 
 windows, whilst the campanile is a monumental epitome 
 of architecture gone mad. Pile upon pile of incongruous 
 masonry climb to a height of ugliness it would be hard to 
 match in the whole history of architectural follies. Perhaps, 
 however, in neglecting the outside of the building the archi- 
 tect may have had the artistic intention of surprising the 
 spectator with the contrast between the exterior and interior. 
 If he had any such aim he certainly could not have carried 
 it out more effectually. 
 
 Just after passing St. Paul's the inconsiderable stream 
 of the Almo empties itself It was famous in ancient days 
 as the spot where the image of Cybele and the utensils 
 belonging to her worship were annually washed with great 
 state and pomp. Ovid, speaking of the ceremony, says, 
 '' There is a spot where the rapid Almo flows into the Tiber, 
 and the lesser stream loses its name in the greater. There 
 does the hoary priest in his purple vestments lave the lady 
 
Chap. II. FROM OSTIA TO ROME. 31 
 
 goddess and her sacred utensils in the waters of the Almo." * 
 The custom is also alluded to by other writers. This 
 stream flows from the so-called Grotto of Egeria by the 
 reputed temple of Bacchus on the Campagna, and is after- 
 wards crossed by the Appian Way ; but its source really 
 lies in the Alban Hills near Marino, from which place it 
 is conveyed to the Grotto by a subterranean channel. 
 
 As we followed the windings of the river the dome of 
 St. Peter suddenly met the sight and as suddenly vanished. 
 The sun had long since set. The stars came out above 
 our heads, shyly at first, and then more brightly. The 
 mirth and merriment died away to a more reflective silence, 
 and when we slid up to the quay the outline of the lofty 
 Aventine, with its convents and churches and crowning 
 cypresses, was softened in the silvery light of the moon and 
 one fair planet that burned brightly beside it. Pale lights 
 glimmered in the street. Friends bade each other farewell, 
 and the faint murmurs of the city came to us muffled 
 through the stillness of night. 
 
 * " Est locus, in Tiberin qua lubricus influit Aln^Oj 
 Et nomen magno perdit ab ainne minor. 
 lUic purpurea canus cum veste sacerdos 
 Almonis dominam sacraque lavit aquis." 
 
 Fasti^ iv. 337. 
 
 THE BASILICA OF SAN TAOLO, FROM THE TIBER. 
 
32 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. III. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ROME. FROM THE PROTESTANT CEMETERY TO 
 THE TOWER OF ANGUILLARA. 
 
 WHAT a strange sensation is that which overpowers 
 the traveller on his first arrival in Rome ! With 
 what varied and innumerable associations is his mind 
 filled ! The very name of it is laden with memories which 
 breathe a vitality through the vanished centuries, ensouling 
 the present with the mighty energies and active life of the 
 past. At first everything seems to bear a consecration to 
 him ; but presently his reverence gives place to a tender 
 and loving' interest, which familiarity seems rather to 
 increase than diminish : so that nobody who has once 
 visited Rome wishes it may be for the last time. 
 
 The first object that meets the eye on entering the city 
 by the upward course of the river is the Protestant burial- 
 ground. It is situated on a gentle slope falling from the 
 ivied walls — a beautiful spot, planted with tall cypresses 
 that rise above its graves, dispensing a solemn gloom 
 about their muffled precincts. There is, perhaps, no place 
 in Rome so soothing as this tranquil corner in the evening 
 hours, when the throstle sings his latest song and the 
 cawing jackdaw retires to rest. Then everything seems to 
 be surrounded with an atmosphere of repose. The far-off 
 sounds of the city lulled to a faint murmur, the increasing 
 dimness, the drooping immortelles, and the quiet graves — 
 all breathe a pensive peacefulness through the mind, 
 making death appear no more a mystery and a sorrow — 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 33 
 
 the painful dislocation of time — but the natural consumma- 
 tion of life waiting until the individual shall be merged into 
 the great Being of the universe. 
 
 On the highest part of the ground, underneath the ancient 
 wall, lie interred the ashes of the poet Shelley. It will be 
 remembered that he was drowned in a boat off Spezia, with 
 his friend Williams. Many days afterwards his body was 
 found by Captain Trelawny, so disfigured and mangled as 
 to have been scarcely recognisable, had not a volume of 
 Sophocles in one pocket and the poems of Keats in 
 another left no doubt of his identity. In consequence of 
 the stringent regulations then in force in that part of Italy, 
 the corpse was not allowed to be taken inland ; so it 
 remained for a while buried in the sand. Permission was 
 subsequently obtained to burn it ; and for this purpose an 
 apparatus was prepared by Captain Trelawny and a pyre 
 raised upon which it was placed. As the flames began to 
 surround it salt and frankincense were thrown upon it, and 
 oil and wine poured over it. When the rest of the body 
 was consumed the heart remained entire. It was snatched 
 from the subsiding flames by Captain Trelawny, and this, 
 together with his remains, was deposited in a box and 
 finally interred where they now lie. 
 
 It must have been a picturesque as well as a mournful 
 spectacle. Lord Byron and Leigh Hunt were present, 
 together with a number of soldiers and the Health officer. 
 The background to this tragical ceremony is clearly 
 sketched by the graphic pen of Captain Trelawny. He 
 says : " The lonely and grand scenery that surrounded us 
 so exactly harmonised with Shelley's genius, that I could 
 imagine his spirit soaring over us. The sea, with the 
 islands of Gorgona, Capraji, and Elba, was before us ; old 
 battlemented watch-towers stretched along the coast, backed 
 by the marble-crested Apennines glistening in the sun, 
 picturesque from their diversified outlines, and not a human 
 dwelling was in sight." One can well imagine the heavy 
 column of smoke rising, the grouping of the soldiers and 
 
 D 
 
34 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 the saddened faces of the friends of the poet, to whom the 
 bright sunshine and fair prospect would appear Hke a 
 mockery during the fulfilment of their melancholy task. 
 
 His tomb, a flat slab of marble at a corner of the 
 cemetery, bears this inscription : *' Percy Bysshe Shelley. 
 Cor Cordium. Natus IV. Aug. MDCCXCII. obiit Vlll. Jul. 
 MDCCCXXII. 
 
 " Nothing of him that doth fade, 
 But doth suffer a sea change 
 Into something rich and strange." 
 
 The words Cor Cordium, "heart of hearts," refer to the 
 above-mentioned circumstance of his heart having remained 
 entire from the funereal flames. The cool seclusion of this 
 dim nook, surrounded by green leaves and peeping flowers, 
 might be such as the ethereal poet himself would have 
 selected during his life-time for a last resting-place. 
 
 Not far from here, but in a more neglected place now 
 disused, lies the body of the unfortunate John Keats : 
 unfortunate in that the laurels planted whilst he lived had 
 scarcely time to grow ere he died, and that misprision 
 should have preyed on a sensitive mind, embittering its last 
 days, and calling around it clouds of sorrow where only 
 sunshine should have reigned. On his marble head-stone 
 is sculptured the fitting emblem of a lyre with broken 
 strings, with the. motto dictated by himself: 
 
 " Here lies one whose name was writ in water." 
 
 It is strange that the hearing and appreciation which is 
 frequently refused to a man during his life should be often 
 given cordially enough at his death. Like the Roman 
 king to whom were brought the Sibylline books, we reject 
 the full offer of the present in scorn, too glad to seize the 
 moiety afterwards on any terms. 
 
 Rising up behind this tomb, far above the sheltering firs, 
 is the pyramid of Caius Cestius, a huge monument and 
 mausoleum, which was the last resting-place of a Roman 
 praetor and tribune of the time of Augustus : one who was 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 35 
 
 once wont to prepare the feasts of the gods, but who has 
 himself long since been made the spoil of decay. In the 
 Capitoline Museum are two curious cippi or inscribed 
 tablets, once belonging to this tomb, erected by his 
 executors, setting forth that Caius had desired in his will 
 that he might be buried in Attalic vestments. These were 
 rich robes, very costly, woven of gold and other expensive 
 materials, which took their name from Attains, king of 
 Phrygia, and were introduced after the overthrow of that 
 kingdom in the century before the Christian era. The 
 inscription goes on to say, that as it had been forbidden 
 by law [probably enacted about the time of his death] that 
 these robes should any longer be used in burial, the 
 executors had spent the value of them in raising this tomb 
 to his memory. Near the pyramid was found an enormous 
 bronze foot, supposed to have belonged to a colossal statue 
 of the silent indweller in this durable house. The house 
 remains, but the tenant has departed for whose conservation 
 it was built. For not even in our bones and ashes may we 
 be immortal, or cheat corroding Time of his. proper prey. 
 
 On the same side of the river, and just beyond the limits 
 of the cemetery, a wide and lofty hill rises, called Monte 
 Testaccio, which at first looks as if it were a natural 
 elevation of the ground, but on examination proves to be 
 nothing but the sherds of broken amphorcs, or wine jars. It 
 is almost inconceivable that so large an accumulation 
 could be the result of fragments so small. It was doubtless 
 once the site of the manufacture of these articles, the 
 broken ones being thrown aside as useless ; having its 
 position here in order to be near the warehouses and the 
 wharf where the wine was first landed and stored. Climb- 
 ing this hill to the summit, marked by a black cross, the 
 eye sweeps the whole country round. Beyond the grave- 
 yard and the pyramid and the low-lying city, the varied 
 undulations of the Campagna spread to the distant 
 mountains, crossed by dim aqueducts and straight, roads. 
 One of these is the Via Appia, with its border of tombs and 
 
36 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 the vast mausoleum of Cecilia Metella, the wife of Crassus, 
 almost two thousand years old, still standing though 
 stripped of its ancient pride. To the right the Tiber winds 
 by the church of St. Paul, beneath the range of the 
 Janiculum, into the city : over a shoulder of the hill the 
 dome of St. Peter lifts itself, together with the more distant 
 Monte Mario crowned with spiring cypresses and its single 
 stone-pine. 
 
 On the same side of the river, and a little further along, 
 are a series of docks and quays lately opened up ; parts of 
 which remain as entire as when they were in use. Sloping 
 pavements for the convenience of landing goods are laid 
 bare, the maker's name stamped upon the tiles being as 
 fresh and legible as ever. The doors of the warehouses 
 still remain ; and many parts of the walls, consisting of 
 small blocks of tufa, built lozenge-wise (called opus reticula- 
 tiim), are still intact. A small symbol sculptured in stone 
 assigns each division of the quay to its proper use ; immense 
 perforated blocks projecting from the brickwork serving to 
 attach the vessels. The upper section constituted the 
 marble wharf, large masses of which in various stages of 
 working lie scattered about ; columns roughed out, blocks 
 half sawn and pediments prepared for the chisel of the finer 
 workmen. One of these is curious as showing the manner 
 in which they proceeded to mark out columns in the solid 
 block before working. It is singular that the modern marble 
 wharf should have been fixed at almost the same spot, the 
 position of the ancient one only having been discovered 
 within the last few years. 
 
 Opposite to this wharf or dock-yard {navalia), on the 
 ground lying between the Janiculum and the river, was "the 
 little farm of four acres," once held by the magnanimous 
 Lucius Quintus, called Cincinnatus. Its position was 
 formerly assigned to the prati, or meadows, higher up the 
 river ; but the recent discovery of this wharf has indubitably 
 fixed its site, since Livy describes it as across the river from 
 Rome, just opposite to the docks. It was known in old 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 2>7 
 
 Roman days by the name of the Quintian meadows from 
 its occupation by Cincinnatus ; the circumstances of which 
 it is worth while to put together in passing ; particularly as 
 modern historians generally give it no more than a bare 
 mention. 
 
 It happened at a certain time in the early republic of 
 Rome that there arose a great deal of difference and jealousy 
 of power between the tribunes who were the representatives 
 of the people, and the patricians or nobles. One of the 
 latter, and amongst the most distinguished by birth and 
 fortune, was Lucius Quintus, who had a son named Caeso, 
 a young man of good parts and education, brave and well 
 favoured, having a certain measure of patrician pride, who 
 espoused very warmly the cause of his party, measuring his 
 language — for he was very eloquent — by no temperate rule. 
 He was for this reason as much hated by the people as he 
 was approved by the class to which he belonged. The 
 tribunes, desiring at once to curb his haughtiness and show 
 their power, preferred a charge against him, suborning dis- 
 honest witnesses ; for which, indeed, there was some slight 
 colour in his conduct, but no substantial foundation in fact. 
 It was in vain that his father disproved the capital allega- 
 tions made against him, pleading the inexperience of youth 
 for the rest, and pointing to the acts of bravery which he 
 had already performed, and the honours they had won him. 
 On the false testimony of one Volscius, a slanderous, ill-con- 
 ditioned man, he was cited to appear before the senate, but 
 allowed his personal liberty on the bail of his father together 
 with nine others, for his appearance when called upon by the 
 senate ; but preferring a voluntary banishment, he went and 
 settled in Tyrrhenia. Not content with paying his own part 
 of the surety, Cincinnatus paid all the others also the sums 
 in which they had been bound with him, the exaction of no 
 part of which was abated. For this purpose it was neces- 
 sary to sell almost all his property, only reserving to him- 
 self a small farm of four acres, lying across the Tiber, as 
 before described. To this place he went with his wife and 
 
 E 
 
38 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 family and a few slaves ; occupying himself in rural pursuits 
 and tilling the ground laboriously. But when the office of 
 consul with Claudius became vacant a year afterwards, he 
 was unanimously chosen to occupy the post, to the conster- 
 nation of the people, who expected that he would repay 
 upon them the wrong done to his son. They had little, 
 however, to fear from one to whom justice was law and 
 probity a possession. When the messengers arrived to 
 accompany him to Rome he was found ploughing in rustic 
 garments. As he paused in his labour, wondering what 
 could be the object of a visit from so many persons, he was 
 requested to go into his cottage and dress himself in a more 
 becoming manner. The delegates then saluted him as con- 
 sul, and covering him with the official robe bordered with 
 purple, and bearing before him the axes and other ensigns 
 of magistracy, he was led into the city. Before departing, 
 however, he tenderly embraced his wife, commending the 
 family concerns to her best care and attention, tears of 
 regret starting to his eyes at leaving untended his little 
 possession. 
 
 Dionysius, who tells this story circumstantially, says, 
 " What induces me to relate so many particulars is to let 
 the world see what kind of men the Roman magistrates were 
 at that time ; that they worked with their hands, and were 
 temperate ; that they were not uneasy under innocent 
 poverty ; and were so far from aiming at regal power, that 
 they refused it even when offered." 
 
 Right nobly did Cincinnatus discharge the duties of his 
 office, never once showing the least prejudice or interest 
 in the distribution of justice. It is true, he used much 
 firmness in subduing the disorders of the people, which had 
 then risen very high ; but, at the same time, he fulfilled the 
 magisterial function with so much mildness and equality, 
 and was so humane and considerate in the discharge of it, 
 that he raised the reputation, not only of the magistracy it- 
 self, but also of the whole aristocracy ; and when the senate 
 would have had him continue in the consulship after the 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 39 
 
 prescribed term had expired, he both refused it and blamed 
 those who pressed it upon him, resigning the power and im- 
 portance of his position, and returning to his former place 
 of abode and mode of life. 
 
 He was not however permitted to remain long in retire- 
 ment. Shortly afterwards Rome was engaged in a war 
 with the -^qui ; and the state finding itself involved in 
 much difficulty, it was agreed on all hands that a dictator 
 must be appointed, and that dictator must be no other than 
 Cincinnatus. 
 
 So they sent for him once more, bringing before him 
 horses magnificently appointed, together with the four-and- 
 twenty axes, the purple robe, and other insignia, formerly 
 the privilege of royalty alone ; at which he sighed, saying 
 that this year's crop would also be lost for his pressing 
 business. He did not refuse to go, however ; and appoint- 
 ing some change of command in the Roman army, marched 
 against the enemy, whom he overthrew with great slaughter, 
 bearing thence abundant spoil and very large honours. But 
 perhaps the part of his conduct which most of all merits 
 praise is, that after six months from his appointment to the 
 dictatorship, during which he received all the distinction 
 which could be paid to the most honourable position, he laid 
 down his office and went to his former simplicity of life ; 
 neither could the senate persuade him to accept the least 
 part of the lands he had conquered nor any money, slaves, 
 or other reward ; and though friends and relations came 
 forward with considerable presents, he refused them all ; pre- 
 ferring his country cares to courtly ease, and his poverty to 
 all the wealth and splendour that could be offered to him. 
 
 This was not the last service that Cincinnatus rendered to 
 his country, but it is enough to justify what Dionysius says of 
 him, that " he was not only the greatest statesman but the 
 ablest general of his time :" and that he was one of those — 
 
 Who did give 
 Themselves for Rome, and would not live 
 As men good only for a year.* 
 
 * Ben Jonson. 
 
 E 2 
 
40 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 Just above the modern marble wharf rise the abrupt 
 heights of the Aventine hill. It is the highest of the 
 ancient seven hills of Rome, and perhaps presents the most 
 picturesque appearance. Legend says that Romulus and 
 Remus desiring to build a city on the spot where they had 
 been exposed and brought up, quarrelled as to whose name 
 it should take, and that they determined to settle the 
 matter by augury of birds. Upon this Romulus stationed 
 himself on the Palatine and Remus on the Aventine. First 
 Remus saw six vultures and then Romulus twelve, upon 
 which Remus contended for priority of time, Romulus for 
 superiority of number, whereupon the quarrel was renewed 
 and Remus slain. Some say Remus was slain for jumping 
 over Romulus' wall. To the circumstance of the augury 
 has been attributed the name of this hill (from avis, a 
 bird) ; others again derive it from Aventinus, one of the 
 early kings. It used to be covered over with thick laurels, 
 and had many mysterious old stories connected with it. One 
 of these is told by Virgil in the eighth book of the iEneid, 
 which is as follows : — On this hill was a cave, supposed to 
 have been on the steep side facing the river, inhabited by a 
 monster, half human in shape but wholly savage and 
 imbruted in his nature. He was the son of Vulcan ; belch-^ 
 ing forth hot flames from his den, slaying men, and pro- 
 ducing much mischief He was called Cacus. Hither 
 Hercules brought his herds to pasture, when Cacus, seizing 
 upon four of his finest bulls and as many of his best heifers, 
 dragged them up the hill by the tail, in order that they 
 might not be tracked by their foot-prints, and so stowed 
 them away in his cave. When Hercules was about to 
 depart he missed the bulls and heifers which had been 
 stolen, and searching for them he was not able to find 
 them. Just as he was going away, however, his cattle 
 beginning to low, one of them in the cave answered in the 
 same manner. Hercules boiling with fury sought over the 
 hill, at last discovering the mouth of the cave, which was 
 closed by a huge stone. By pushing a larger mass of rock 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 41 
 
 upon it from above the impediment was dislodged and the 
 cave exposed to view. Cacus immediately began to vomit 
 forth flames : but Hercules casting himself into the cave 
 grappled with him and at last succeeded in strangling him. 
 A periodical feast used to be kept in commemoration of 
 the event. This legend has been supposed to refer to the 
 early volcanic condition of the hill.* 
 
 Another legend not less curious relating to this place, is 
 told by Ovid in his 'Fasti.' The substance of it is as 
 follows : — 
 
 In the days of Numa the people were much dismayed by 
 the heavy rains and the lightning which fell thickly and 
 frequently. So that the priest-king consulted the goddess 
 Egeria on the occasion. She bade him calm his fears, and 
 told him that the lightning was to be averted by atonement, 
 referring him for further instructions to Picus and Faunus, 
 Roman divinities, at the same time telling him that they 
 would afford him no information except by compulsion, 
 and that he must secure them with chains when he caught 
 them. At the foot of the Aventine hill there was a grove 
 of oak, in the centre of which was a grassy plot and a 
 constant stream of water trickling from the rock, which 
 was covered with green moss. At this stream Faunus and 
 Picus were accustomed to drink. Here Numa sacrificed a 
 sheep, and then placed cups of wine about the fountain, 
 concealing himself in a neighbouring grotto. Presently the 
 forest gods came to refresh themselves, but instead of water, 
 drank the wine that had been laid for them ; aftei'wards 
 going to sleep. Then Numa issued from his hiding-place 
 and fixed their hands in manacles. When the gods awoke 
 they struggled in vain to free themselves. Then Numa 
 stepped forwards and, asking forgiveness for what he had 
 done, begged them to tell him how the lightnings might be 
 averted. Faunus replied that he asked them a question 
 which they could not answer, but promised to summon 
 
 * Virg. yEn. viii. 184. 
 
42 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 Jove himself to his assistance if he would only free them 
 from their bonds. Upon this Numa set them at liberty ; 
 whereupon the tops of the Aventine forest trembled and 
 the earth yielded to the feet of Jove. Numa at first was 
 overcome by the vision, but presently recovering himself, 
 stated his desire. Jove then told him that he must " cut 
 off a head." " Of an onion in my garden," said Numa. 
 "Nay, but of a man," said Jupiter. '*Yes, the topmost 
 hairs," said the other. "You must take a life," said Jove. 
 " The life of a fish," replied Numa. Jove, diverted with the 
 ingenious answers of Numa, laughed, and said, " See to it, 
 then, that with these thou dost propitiate my missiles, thou; 
 man not to be daunted in a conference with the gods. 
 Moreover, when to-morrow's sun shall have risen I will give 
 thee the sure pledge of empire."* 
 
 This promise was fulfilled the next day in the fall of the 
 celestial shield, which was supposed to contain in its safety 
 the welfare of the empire : so that in order that it might 
 not be carried away, Numa caused a number of counterparts 
 to be made, preserving the secret of the true one. . The 
 shields were periodically carried through the streets of Rome 
 with dancing, festivities, and great rejoicings. 
 
 Although fortified by Romulus, the Aventine was first 
 included in the city by Ancus Martius. After Virginia had 
 been slain by her father to protect her from the cruel 
 violence of Appius Claudius, he and the soldiers he com- 
 manded stationed themselves on the Aventine in rebellious 
 opposition to the overgrown patrician power in the decem- 
 virate, which was at that time abolished. Subsequently 
 Lucius Icilius, to whom Virginia had been betrothed, who 
 had been made a tribune, caused the Aventine to be built 
 upon for the special use and advantage of the people. 
 
 There were many temples upon the hill. Amongst the 
 most celebrated were those of Juno Regina, whose image 
 Camillus brought from Veii at its fall, Jupiter Libertas built 
 
 * Fasti, iii. 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 43 
 
 by Caius Gracchus, Diana Aventina, and Bona Dea, the 
 good goddess. 
 
 Bona Dea, or Fauna, was sister, wife, or daughter of 
 Faunus. She was the embodiment of chastity, her worship 
 being wholly restricted to women. She only revealed her 
 oracles to females. Her temple was built on the rocks of 
 Aventine, " hating the eyes of men " (oculos exosa viriles). It 
 was consecrated by Claudia, a maiden of reputed virtue. On 
 the first of May, her festival was held in the house of some 
 consul or praetor, probably in order that it might be more 
 private, sacrifices being made for the whole Roman people. 
 The Vestals conducted the worship, which was chiefly at- 
 tended by women of the higher order. The statue of the 
 goddess was decorated with vine leaves and had a serpent 
 placed about its feet. The women also wore garlands, the 
 house being adorned in the same manner ; the myrtle alone 
 being excluded, because it was with a staff of myrtle that 
 Faunus killed Fauna before she became a goddess. 
 
 Once when these rites were being celebrated by Pompeia, 
 the wife of Julius Caesar, Clodius, a libertine of illustrious 
 family, introduced himself into the house in women's cloth- 
 ing, with the desire of meeting Pompeia, whom it would 
 appear was privy to his coming. Whilst her maid was in 
 search of her Clodius was discovered by his voice, which 
 caused a great uproar. The lights were extinguished and 
 the proceedings broken up. When this came to the ears of 
 Caesar he at once divorced Pompeia, and when it was urged 
 that there could be no real accusation against her, made use 
 of the memorable saying, that the wife of Caesar must be 
 even above suspicion. 
 
 Although the rites in honour of this goddess doubtless 
 began in all earnestness and sincerity and from an elevated 
 enthusiasm, yet if we are to believe the Latin satirical 
 writer Juvenal, who flourished in the first century, they must 
 have degenerated at that time to the worst and lowest forms 
 of demoralization. 
 
 Valerius Maximus relates that in the days of Servius 
 
44 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 Tullius, there was born an unusually large cow belonging 
 to a patrician family in the Campo Sabina, whence the 
 augurs and priests said that whoever sacrificed it at the 
 temple of Diana on the Aventine, his country would have 
 the empery of the world. Its owner on hearing this went 
 with great joy to sacrifice the cow in order that the Sabine 
 people might become rulers of the human race. The priest 
 of the temple told him that before it was killed the sacriiicer 
 must wash his hands in the Tiber. Then whilst the Sabine 
 went for that purpose, the priest sacrificed the cow himself, 
 thus obtaining for the Roman people the advantage of the 
 offering. 
 
 The Aventine is associated with the fate of the fine- 
 spirited reformer and friend of the people, Caius Gracchus. 
 After the death of his brother Tiberius, who had laboured so 
 hard in the same cause, Caius gave himself with no less 
 vigour to withstand the oppressions of the nobles and pro- 
 mote the freedom of the people. But at last, the opposite 
 party being too strong for him, he was treacherously 
 deserted by his own. Objecting that force should be used 
 in the cause he advocated, he retired to the temple of Diana 
 at the foot of this hill without drawing his sword, and would 
 have put an end to his life if he had not been restrained. 
 It is said that he kneeled down here, and in the bitterness 
 of his disappointment prayed that the Romans for their 
 baseness and cowardice might never know the name of 
 freedom. This happened near the temple dedicated to 
 liberty which his grandfather had built. He thence fled 
 over the Pons Sublicius to the grove of the goddess 
 Furina, which was on the site of the modern hospital and 
 prisons of San Michele ; where he was miserably slain, 
 himself dealing the mortal blow. A reward of its weight in 
 gold being offered for his head, it was filled with lead by 
 one Septimuleius and borne to Opimius the consul, on the 
 point of a spear. This was in the year one hundred and 
 twenty before Christ, about thirteen years after the death 
 of his brother. 
 
Chap. III. ROME, 45 
 
 In considering the character of the ancient Roman people 
 no trait is presented to us in a stronger light than that of 
 their intense superstition; overbearing and blinding, in some 
 directions, all judgment and reason. No expedition was 
 organized without the omens being consulted. The dispo- 
 sition of the entrails of a bird could influence or change the 
 most reasonable and matured conclusions. A chance word, 
 a false step, the sight of a bird or animal, any trivial occur- 
 rence upon which faith in the supernatural could fix itself 
 was seized upon to determine the most momentous occa- 
 sions, to govern the most stupendous enterprises, to super- 
 sede all the judgments of counsel and consideration. Of 
 course their indomitable steadfastness in what they did 
 undertake generally served them in the place of divinity, 
 and no doubt to their half-reasoning minds, seemed to con- 
 firm and justify their creed. Reported showers of stones, 
 streams of blood, the spontaneous movement of statues, 
 and other exorbitant phenomena were placed in the same 
 category with the slightest deviation from ordinary law ; as 
 for example, the birth of a malformed child or animal, or 
 even the simple fall of the electric fluid. All these had to 
 be expiated by solemn sacrifices to the gods on sacred days 
 set especially apart for that purpose. The fundamental 
 cause of this doubtless arose from that inward respect for 
 law which formed the nature and essence of the Roman 
 character, the slighest deviation from their conceptions of 
 which was ranked with the supernatural and the monstrous. 
 A curious and picturesque circumstance taking place on 
 the spot under consideration affords an illustration of this. 
 It is told by the historian Livy.* 
 
 A shower of stones being reported to have fallen at 
 Veii ; a stream of blood having appeared, and a temple 
 been struck by lightning at Minturna, as also a gate and a 
 wall at Atella ; a wolf having torn a man at Capua, and a 
 monstrous child been born at Frusino (which was cruelly 
 placed into a chest and thrown into the sea), it was supposed 
 
 * xxvii. 37. 
 
46 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 the Divine Powers were angry and needed propitiation. 
 Accordingly, thrice nine virgins were deputed to go through 
 the city singing a hymn. Whilst they were learning this 
 hymn in the temple of Jupiter Stator, the temple of Juno 
 Regina on the Aventine was struck by lightning. This 
 was construed into a prodigy appertaining to the matrons, 
 who were required to bring a present to the goddess of the 
 Aventine, both those of Rome and those within ten miles from 
 it. This was accordingly done ; a contribution being made 
 from their dowries, of which a gold basin was made and 
 carried to the Aventine, a day being set apart for another 
 sacrifice and procession ; which consisted of two white 
 heifers led from the temple of Apollo through the Carmen- 
 tal Gate, after which were borne two images in cypress of 
 Juno Regina ; then came twenty-seven virgins all clothed 
 in white, singing the praises of the same goddess : these 
 were followed by the decemvirs crowned with laurel, and 
 wearing purple-broidered robes. Arrived at the Forum the 
 procession stopped, and the virgins, who were connected by 
 a cord passing from hand to hand, moved, beating time 
 with their feet to the music of their voices ; finally ascend- 
 ing the Aventine, where the decemviri made a double 
 sacrifice, depositing the cypress images in the temple. 
 
 It is a striking picture. Often and often, standing at the foot 
 of the hill in the bright sunshine, have I imagined the whole 
 circumstance of this impressive ceremony, as if no decades 
 of centuries intervened. I have seen in my mind's eye the 
 procession pass along the streets of the city, the people 
 looking on with hushed voices and serious faces : and then, 
 the dance of the damsels in the forum, their lithe bodies 
 moving to and fro, not springing in the blithe merriment of 
 a festival, but scarcely lifting their feet from the ground, as 
 their treble voices swell the solemn hymn and a feeling of 
 awe creeps over the minds of the spectators ; and, last of 
 all, the train of sacrifice, followed by the matrons of the city 
 and adjoining country, with a vast concourse of people in 
 their wake, slowly winding the heights of the Aventine to 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 47 
 
 its summit, until they stand in front of the altar smoking in 
 the dim and magnificent temple before the colossal figure 
 of Juno erect in dignified majesty, the object of reverence 
 to all eyes. 
 
 But now no longer is the " seat of Juno eternal on the 
 Aventine." It became gradually less populous from the 
 sixth century, though not actually abandoned till the tenth. 
 In the thirteenth century there was an attempt to revive its 
 condition under Pope Honorius, but this was ineffectual. 
 It is now for the most part disused as a place of residence 
 on account of its unhealthiness, and partly, perhaps, on 
 account of its elevation. It is principally covered by walled 
 vineyards and waste corners that bear no trace of its former 
 population, its convents and churches forming almost its 
 sole structures. Of the latter of these (two of them with 
 convents attached) there are three on the steepest part, 
 facing the river. 
 
 The first is generally called that of the Priorato frorri the 
 priory attached to it, belonging to the renowned Knights of 
 Malta. This order was a union of the military and religious 
 functions. It originated in the year one thousand and forty- 
 eight in a hospital built in the East by some people of 
 Amalfi to succour pilgrims visiting the holy sepulchre. It 
 afterwards extended widely, numbering the rich and great 
 amongst its members. Its principal establishment in 
 England was the priory at Clerkenwell, the chief of which 
 had a seat in the upper House of Parliament, and was styled 
 First Baron of England. In the height of its prosperity the 
 brotherhood was bound by religious vows, giving itself 
 specially to the succour of the sick and befriending of 
 pilgrims. It flourished greatly during the middle ages, and 
 though for some time not much more than a name, only 
 appears to have practically died out at the beginning of the 
 present century. This church adjoining their priory contains 
 several very fine Renaissance monuments in which the effigies 
 of some of these old world heroes, noisy enough in their day, 
 no doubt, sleep quietly and unnoticed now in dusty marble. 
 
48 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 In this monastery Hildebrand, afterwards Pope Gregory 
 the Seventh, passed his early years under the care of his 
 uncle, who was the abbot. This remarkable man was born 
 of poor parents at Soana in Tuscany, as is generally sup- 
 posed, though this has been disputed, in the year one 
 thousand and twenty. His education was completed in the 
 monastery of Cluny in France, after which he returned to 
 Rome, and taking orders, was afterwards entrusted with 
 the full management of affairs under Alexander the Second, 
 ultimately obtaining the position of cardinal. When 
 Alexander died and the funeral was going forward at the 
 church of St. John Lateran, the cry arose on all hands, '' It 
 is Hildebrand whom St. Peter elects as his successor !" At 
 first he resisted, but finally accepted the pontificate, at the 
 same time writing to King Henry the Fourth of Germany, 
 requesting him not to sanction the election ; assuring him 
 that if he did so, he should visit his conduct for several 
 abuses and scandals with great severity. The prerogative of 
 sanctioning the appointment of a new pontiff was at that 
 time the privilege of the German crown ; this being the last 
 occasion upon which it was used. Henry, however, without 
 more ado, ratified the election, sending a prelate to attend 
 the consecration who was not even in priest's orders. 
 
 No sooner had Gregory attained the throne than he at once 
 began his attack upon the prevalent abuses of the time, the 
 incontinence of the clergy and secular investiture, or the 
 control of the laity over the benefices of the church. 
 Against this latter reform Henry rebelled, which brought 
 matters to such a condition, that the pope excommunicated 
 him, absolving all his subjects from the oath of their 
 allegiance. This produced a rebellion in the empire, so 
 that Henry, in order to keep his imperial seat, was compelled 
 to go and ask pardon and absolution of the pope. He 
 went. It was winter and the most inclement of seasons 
 when he passed over Mont Cenis with his wife, undergoing 
 much difficulty and incredible hardships. He found the 
 pope at Canossa in North Italy on a visit to the Countess 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 49 
 
 Matilda, who was there entrenched in a strong fortress. 
 Three days elapsed before the pope would receive him, 
 three days he stood between the inner and outer cincture of 
 the fortress, his retainers and attendants being outside, 
 bare-footed, bare-headed, fasting till the evening, expecting 
 the pope's message. At last it came. He was ushered 
 into the presence, and there obtained the benefits of abso- 
 lution and benediction. They were seeming friends, and 
 sat down together at table in amicable converse ; but it was 
 for the last time. 
 
 As soon as Henry had subdued the rebellion, by crushing 
 its head, the Duke of Suabia, he once more set the pope at 
 defiance. Gregory then recognised the vanquished Rodolph 
 of Suabia as emperor of Germany, whilst Henry on the 
 other hand proceeded at once to raise up an antipope in the 
 person of the Archbishop of Ravenna as Clement the Third. 
 Pressing his advantage still further, Henry found himself in 
 Rome in possession of the city (his army occupying the 
 position of this very hill), the unfortunate Gregory being 
 compelled to shut himself up in the castle-fortress of St. 
 Angelo. Here it might have gone hard with him had not 
 the Norman adventurer Robert Guiscard, whom the pope 
 had made duke of Apulia, come forward with a large force 
 and set him at liberty. Upon this Henry withdrew his troops, 
 fearing to meet the larger force of the Norman. The pope 
 was then escorted to Salerno by Robert, where he died in 
 the year one thousand and eighty-five ; his last words, " I have 
 loved justice and hated iniquity, therefore I die in exile." 
 
 The view from the terrace-garden of this convent is very 
 beautiful. Through a vista of ilex trees the dome of 
 St. Peter overtops the town. The river leads the eye 
 through the city with its quaint bridges and ancient bell- 
 towers, as it flows between this hill and the Janiculum on 
 the other side. It is a true conventual residence. The 
 noises of the world only reach it in muffled and subdued 
 tones. Heaven is above it and the world beneath it. 
 What more can the aspiring soul require ? 
 
50 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 Adjoining this is the church of St. Alessio, or Alexius. 
 It is said to be situated upon the place called Armilustrum, 
 where the ancient feast for the purification of arms used to 
 be held in early Roman days. It is here also that we are 
 told the Sabine king Tatius, one of the founders of the city 
 with Romulus, was buried. The first church occupying this 
 position was built where stood the house of Euphemianus 
 the father of Alexius, in the ninth century. It was origin- 
 ally dedicated to , St. Boniface. The legend of Alexius is 
 amongst the most interesting and romantic in the whole 
 calendar. It is thus told by Mrs. Jameson in her * Sacred 
 and Legendary Art.' 
 
 " In the days when Innocent the First was pope, and 
 Arcadius and Honorius reigned over the East and West, 
 there lived a man in Rome whose name was Euphemian, 
 rich and of senatorial rank. He had a house and great 
 possessions on the Aventine hill, but he had no son to 
 inherit his wealth. He and his wife, whose name was 
 Aglae, besought the Lord earnestly to grant them off- 
 spring. And their prayer was heard ; for after many 
 years they had a son, and called him Alexis. And Alexis 
 from his childhood had devoted himself to the service of 
 God, and became remarked by all for his humility, his 
 piety, and his charity. Although outwardly he went 
 clothed in silk and gold, as became his rank, yet he wore 
 a hair shirt next his body ; and though he had a smiling 
 and pleasant countenance towards all, yet in his chamber 
 he wept incessantly, bewailing his own sinful state and 
 that of the world, and made a secret vow to devote himself 
 wholly to the service of God. 
 
 " And when he was of a proper age his father wished 
 him to marry, and chose out for his wife a maiden of noble 
 birth, beautiful and graceful and virtuous, one whom it was 
 impossible to look on without being irresistibly attracted. 
 Alexis, who had never disobeyed his parents from his 
 infancy upwards, trembled within himself for the vow he 
 had spoken, and seeing his bride, how fair she was and ho\^ 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 51 
 
 virtuous, he trembled yet the more ; but he did not dare 
 to gainsay the words of his father. On the appointed day, 
 the nuptials were celebrated with great pomp and festivity ; 
 but when evening came, the bridegroom had disappeared, 
 and they sought him everywhere in vain ; and when they 
 questioned the bride, she answered, ' Behold, he came into 
 my chamber, and gave me this ring of gold, and this girdle 
 of precious stones, and this veil of purple, and then he bade 
 me farewell, and I know not whither he is gone!' And 
 they were all astonished, and, seeing he returned not, they 
 gave themselves up to grief ; his mother spread sackcloth 
 on the earth, and sprinkled it with ashes, and sat down 
 upon it ; and his wife took off her jewels and bridal robes, 
 and darkened her windows, and put on widow's attire, 
 weeping continually : and Euphemian sent servants and 
 messengers to all parts of the world to seek his son, but he 
 was nowhere to be found. 
 
 " In the meantime, Alexis, after taking leave of his 
 bride, disguised himself in the habit of a pilgrim, fled from 
 his father's house, and throwing himself into a little 
 boat, he reached the mouth of the Tiber. At Ostia he 
 embarked in a vessel bound for Laodicea, and thence he 
 repaired to Edessa, a city of Mesopotamia, and dwelt 
 there in great poverty and humility, spending his days in 
 ministering to the sick and poor, and in devotion to the 
 Madonna, until the people, who beheld his great piety, 
 cried out, *A saint!' Then, fearing for his virtue, he left 
 that place, and embarked in a ship bound for Tarsus, in 
 order to pay his devotions to St. Paul. But a great tempest 
 arose, and after many days the ship, instead of reaching the 
 desired port, was driven to the mouth of the Tiber, and 
 entered the port of Ostia. 
 
 " When Alexis found himself again near his native home, 
 he thought, * It is better for me to live by the charity of my 
 parents than to be a burthen to strangers ; ' and, hoping 
 that he was so much changed that no one would recognize 
 him, he entered Rome. As he approached his father's 
 
52 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 house, he saw him come forth with a great retinue of 
 servants, and, accosting him humbly, besought a corner of 
 refuge beneath his roof, and to eat of the crumbs which fell 
 from his table : and Euphemian, looking on him, knew not 
 that it was his son ; nevertheless, he felt his heart moved 
 with unusual pity, and granted his petition, thinking within 
 himself, 'Alas for my son Alexis ! perhaps he is now a 
 wanderer and poor, even as this man.' So he gave Alexis 
 in charge to his servants, commanding that he should have 
 all things needful. 
 
 " But, as it often happens with rich men who have many 
 servitors and slaves, Euphemian was ill obeyed ; for, be- 
 lieving Alexis to be what he appeared, a poor, ragged 
 way-worn beggar, they gave him no other lodging than a 
 hole under the marble steps which led to his father's door, 
 and all who passed and repassed looked on his misery ; 
 and the servants, seeing that he bore all uncomplainingly, 
 mocked at him, thinking him an idiot, and pulled his 
 matted beard, and threw dirt on his head ; but he endured 
 in silence. A far greater trial was to witness every day the 
 grief of his mother and his wife ; for his wife, like another 
 Ruth, refused to go back to the house of her fathers ; and, 
 often, as he lay in his dark hole under the steps, he heard 
 her weeping in her chamber, and ciying, * O my Alexis ! 
 whither art thou gone } Why hast thou espoused me only 
 to forsake me .? ' And, hearing her thus tenderly lamenting 
 and upbraiding his absence, he was sorely tempted ; never- 
 theless he remained steadfast. 
 
 "Thus many years passed away, until his emaciated 
 frame sank under his sufferings, and it was revealed to 
 him that he should die. Then he procured from a servant 
 of the house pen and ink, and wrote a full account of all 
 these things, and all that had happened to him in his life, 
 and put the letter in his bosom, expecting death. 
 
 "It happened about this time, on a certain feast day, 
 that Pope Innocent was celebrating high mass before the 
 Emperor Honorius and all his court, and suddenly a voice 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 53 
 
 was heard which said, * Seek the servant of God who is 
 about to depart from this life, and who shall pray for the 
 city of Rome ! ' So the people fell on their faces, and 
 another voice said, 'Where shall we seek him ?' And the 
 first voice answered, * In the house of Euphemian the patri- 
 cian.' And Euphemian was standing next to the emperor, 
 who said to him, ' What ! hast thou such a treasure in thy 
 house, and hast not divulged it } Let us now repair thither 
 immediately.' So Euphemian went before to prepare the 
 way ; and as he approached his house, a servant met him, 
 saying, 'The poor beggar whom thou hast sheltered has 
 died within this hour, and we have laid him on the steps 
 before the door.' And Euphemian ran up the steps and 
 uncovered the face of the beggar, and it seemed to him the 
 face of an angel, such a glory of light proceeded from it, 
 and his heart melted within him, and he fell on his knees. 
 And as the emperor and his court came near, he said, 
 ' This is the servant of God of whom the voice spake just 
 now.' And when the pope saw the letter which was in the 
 dead hand of Alexis, he humbly asked him to deliver it ; 
 and the hand relinquished it forthwith, and the chancellor 
 read it aloud before all the assembly. 
 
 " But now what words shall describe the emotions of his 
 father when he knew that it was his son who lay before 
 him t and how the mother and the wife, rushing forth dis- 
 tracted, flung themselves on the senseless body, and could 
 with difficulty be separated from it? and how for seven 
 days they watched and wept beside him } and how the 
 people crowded to touch his sacred remains, and many 
 sick and infirm were healed thereby .<* But all this I pass 
 over ; let it suffice that on the spot where stood the house 
 of Euphemian, the church of St. Alexis now stands. The 
 marble steps beneath which he died are preserved in the 
 church, in a chapel to the left of the entrance, and beneath 
 them is seen the statue of the saint lying extended on a 
 mat, in the mean dress of a poor pilgrim, his staff beside 
 him and the letter in his hand." 
 
 F 
 
54 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 The third and adjoining church is that of Santa Sabina. 
 It is in the basiHca form. It was first built in the year four 
 hundred and twenty-five, on the site of the house of the 
 saint from whom it takes its name. It has been frequently 
 restored. It consists of a nave and two side aisles, sepa- 
 rated by twenty-four antique Corinthian columns of fluted 
 white marble, of uniform height and thickness. It is sup- 
 posed that these columns formerly belonged to the temple 
 of Juno Regina, which probably stood here. In the convent 
 attached to this church, St. Dominic once dwelled. An 
 old orange tree, planted by his hand, still stands an object 
 of reverence in the garden. It was here that Thomas 
 Aquinas secluded himself, in order to be out of the reach of 
 the importunities of his relations, who wished to dissuade 
 him from the religious life. 
 
 More removed from the river, is the church of Santa 
 Prisca, which, tradition says, occupies the site of the house 
 where St. Peter lived whilst in Rome, adding many souls 
 to the church. 
 
 Leaving the Aventine, the range of white buildings on the 
 left includes the hospital, schools, and prison of San Michele. 
 Stretching in front of it is the Ripa Grande, or port of the 
 river, beneath whose tall beacon-tower numerous vessels 
 lie with sails furled. A little beyond this we come upon 
 the foundations of the old Pons Sublicius, only to be seen 
 when the river is low. This, the oldest and most celebrated 
 of the Roman bridges, was built by Ancus Martius. After 
 frequent repairs it was totally destroyed by a flood in the 
 eighth century. This is the bridge that Horatius Codes is 
 said to have defended so bravely, single-handed, against 
 the van of an army. The banished Tarquins in their wish 
 to reinstate themselves, had fled for assistance to Lars 
 Porsena of Clusium, the renowned king of a powerful 
 people, who accordingly marched against Rome with an 
 allied army of vast numbers. After making himself master 
 of the Janiculum, a long range of rising ground here 
 flanking the course of the river, he thought also, without 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 55 
 
 much more trouble, to do the same by the city. But on 
 approaching it, he found its near banks lined with Roman 
 troops. A very severe engagement then immediately com- 
 menced, in which the Romans, finding themselves worsted, 
 strove to regain the city ; but the ingress being limited to 
 this one bridge, it threatened to fall into the hands of the 
 enemy, had not the bravery of Publius Horatius, — or 
 Horatius Codes, as he was called, from having lost one of 
 his eyes in battle — and two others, Spurius Lartius and 
 Titus Herminius, prevented it. They stood their ground, 
 fighting bravely until the whole of the army had passed 
 the bridge, when the two latter retired. But Horatius, 
 calling out that they should break the bridge behind him, 
 still maintained the fight, until the shouts of the Romans 
 had told him that it was accomplished, when, weary and 
 wounded, he jumped into the river, with difficulty regaining 
 the other side. 
 
 One may imagine the joy with which he was welcomed, 
 with no more serious wound than was curable ; and with 
 what an honourable halt he limped through life ever after- 
 wards. On the moment, he was crowned, and conducted 
 into the city with songs, everybody rushing out to look at 
 him with wild and delirious joy. From bare stores each 
 individual contributed to his provision ; and not only had 
 he as much land allotted to him as he could plough round 
 in one day with a yoke of oxen, but also, whilst he was 
 still living, his bronze statue stood in the most conspicuous 
 part of the Forum, a continual witness of his bravery and 
 the value his nation set upon it. 
 
 It was during this war that Mucins Scaevola, having 
 crossed the river for the purpose of assassinating Porsena. 
 when found out, thrust his hand into the fire to show his 
 indifference to bodily suffering ; and the Roman maiden, 
 Cloelia, swam over it with a band of her companions who 
 had been given in hostage to the Etrurian king. 
 
 Dionysius mentions a very peculiar ceremony which used 
 to take place on this bridge. He says that in the earliest 
 
 F 2 
 
56 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 days of ancient Rome, human victims were sacrificed to 
 the god Saturn as the deity of universal Nature ; but that 
 Hercules, wishing to abolish these, instituted other sacrifices 
 to be immolated on an altar of fire, allowing the people to 
 retain so much of their custom as to bind figures in the 
 likeness of men, hand and foot, and cast them into the 
 Tiber, in order to satisfy any lingering superstition they 
 might have. This ceremony was retained long afterwards. 
 In the middle of May each year the priests assembled, after 
 having made sacrifices, together with the Vestal virgins, 
 the praetors, and citizens, on the sacred bridge [Pons 
 Sublicius], and thence cast into the river thirty pageants 
 resembling men, which they called Argivi. Ovid, in speak- 
 ing of the same ceremony, says these dummies were made 
 of rushes, and thrown into the river by the Vestal virgins. 
 To learn the origin of this custom he invokes the spirit of 
 the Tiber — the old river-god — who informs him that it 
 arose from the ancient Argive settlers desiring that their 
 bodies might be thrown into the river at their death, so 
 that, perchance, they might be washed on to the shores of 
 their native land. But that afterwards, the custom being 
 displeasing to the survivors, these effigies were substituted. 
 
 On the right of the river, between the remains of the 
 Subiician Bridge and the Island, the inconsiderable stream 
 of the Marana (ancient Aqua Crabra) flows into the Tiber, 
 near to which, on the same side, is the Piazza della Bocca 
 della Verita, which takes its name from a large-mouthed 
 antique mask, which probably formed the outlet to some 
 fountain or the opening of a drain in the impluvium or 
 central court of a house. There was a mediaeval tradition 
 that if a person making a deposition on oath were to place 
 his hand within the mouth of the mask, perjury would be 
 punished by his not being able to withdraw it. Here 
 between the Tiber on the one hand and the Palatine and 
 the Aventine on the other, were the Velabrum and Forum 
 Boarium, used as markets in the more developed condition 
 of the ancient city : in its early days, before the Cloaca 
 
Chap. III. ROME. 57 
 
 Maxima had been constructed, their whole extent was 
 nothing but an undrained marsh covered with stagnant 
 pools of water. Several temples were situated here : one 
 to Hercules, one to Fortuna, and another to Mater Matuta ; 
 yet, although two of them still remain in tolerable preserva- 
 tion, archaeologists differ as to the name to be attached to 
 each, as well as in respect to the position of the third. The 
 elegant little circular structure commonly called the temple 
 of Vesta, has no sort of authority for its name. The temple 
 of Vesta, in which the ancile or sacred shield was kept, 
 alluded to by Horace as having been thrown down by an 
 inundation of the river, must have been nearer the Forum. 
 Bunsen believes this structure to have been a temple of 
 Cybele, Canina that of Mater Matuta. Standing imme- 
 diately above the river, it forms a beautiful and picturesque 
 object. It once consisted of a fine peristyle of twenty 
 fluted columns of marble, one of them being now destroyed. 
 The entablature also is lost. It is now turned into a little 
 chapel, though not used ; the roof being covered with red tiles. 
 The other temple, called that of Fortuna Virilis, the 
 name of which has also been disputed, is said to have been 
 first raised in the time of the kings, but has been subse- 
 quently rebuilt and restored. It is constructed of travertine 
 and tufa. There are four columns at the front and seven 
 at the side remaining visible. The interspaces are walled up, 
 as it is also used now as a modern church. The columns 
 are Ionic and support a fine entablature and frieze with the 
 heads of oxen and garlands sculptured upon it. Not far 
 from this temple is a rich and elaborately carved archway 
 of white marble raised by the bankers and cattle merchants 
 of the place in honour of the fratricidal emperor Caracalla. 
 The representation of his brother has evidently occupied a 
 position near to that of his own, but has been erased, the in- 
 scription also having been altered. What is left of the sculp- 
 tured form of the emperor is noticeable as being in strong 
 and favourable contrast with his bust in the Capitol, in which 
 every evil thought and malicious intention appear to meet. 
 
58 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. III. 
 
 To complete the list of antique monuments in this place 
 must be mentioned a four-pierced arch, that of Janus in the 
 Velabrum, such as it is supposed stood sometimes at cross- 
 roads. It is a very solid structure of white marble, but is 
 held to be of the declining period, probably that of Septimius 
 Severus, that is, the second or third century of our era. 
 
 Just at the foot of the bridge are the remains of an 
 ancient mansion of brick with some ornate mouldings, some 
 antique fragments being built into the wall. There is a long 
 Latin inscription upon it from which it has been conjectured 
 to have belonged to the tribune Cola di Rienzo. The archi- 
 tecture has been supposed to be of the eleventh century. 
 
 Livy tells us that shortly after the battle of Cannae (two 
 hundred and sixteen years before Christ) several prodigies 
 having occurred, amongst the rest, two Vestal virgins 
 having broken their vows whilst a messenger was being 
 sent to Delphi to inquire of the oracle, extraordinary 
 sacrifices were made; a Gallic man and woman and a 
 Greek man and woman being let down alive into a pit 
 fenced round with stone, in the Cattle Market (Forum 
 Boarium) — not the first victims it had received, he says ; a 
 proceeding which he condemns as not being generically a 
 Roman rite. 
 
 This place is also notable as having been the spot upon 
 which the first gladiatorial combat took place in Rome — 
 given on occasion of the funeral of the father of Marcus 
 and Decius Brutus, two hundred and sixty-four years before 
 Christ. 
 
 On the side of the piazza farthest from the river is the 
 church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, attached to which rises 
 a mediaeval campanile, the tallest, as it is one of the finest 
 in Rome. The church, too, is very interesting, though it 
 has been much spoilt by restorations and alterations. It 
 was founded by Adrian the First late in the eighth century, 
 and rebuilt early in the thirteenth by Alfanus, a Roman 
 chancellor, whose epitaph attributes to him the large 
 distinction of having been ' an honest man ' (vir probus). 
 
Chap. III. ROME. S9 
 
 Just below the little round temple the Cloaca Maxima 
 empties itself into the river. This is considered one of the 
 most stupendous engineering works of antiquity. Livy 
 attributes it to Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome. 
 It is an immense stone archway constructed of large blocks 
 of peperino, some of them nearly five feet in length and 
 more than three in thickness, put together without cement, 
 for the purpose of a drain or sewer. The inner vaulting 
 reaches to the height of twelve feet. It passes from the 
 region of the Velabrum to the Tiber, a distance of eight 
 hundred feet. It formed the outlet of the principal part of 
 the sewerage of ancient Rome, and even now remains 
 apparently as solid and firm as when it was first built. 
 
 Near the Cloaca Maxima may be traced very substantial 
 remains of a travertine structure — in good solid blocks — 
 which is supposed to be the " pulchrum littus " or quay 
 formed in the very earliest days of ancient Rome. Nearly 
 opposite to this are some huge heads of lions, also in stone, 
 projecting from the bank, discovered by Mr. Parker a few 
 years ago. They were used for the purpose of attaching 
 vessels. Here the river is spanned by the Ponte Rotto or 
 Broken Bridge : it is the ancient Pons -^milius completed 
 in the second century before Christ. It has undergone 
 subsequent restorations. In the year fifteen hundred and 
 ninety-eight a severe flood carried away two arches. The 
 deficiency is now supplied by a suspension bridge, which 
 joins the remaining portion to the other shore. At its piers 
 are fixed revolving nets made in the shape of a shallow purse 
 or bag, fixed upon cross bars, which thus turn by the force 
 of the stream, depositing their spoils, when there are any, 
 into a piece of canvas stretched at the side to receive them. 
 From this bridge the body of the monster Heliogabalus was 
 thrown into the river. It might have been a favourite place 
 for suicides, since Juvenal, in one of his satires, facetiously 
 asks his friend Postumus, why he should think of getting 
 married as long as there are halters and lofty windows and 
 the iEmilian Bridge is so ready at hand. The views from 
 
6o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. III. 
 
 it, both up and down, are very commanding, and embrace 
 some of the most notable sites and objects of the ancient 
 and mediaeval city. 
 
 Another conspicuous object on the left is the Tower of 
 Anguillara. It was once one of the most formidable of 
 those numerous castles of the Middle Ages, the occupiers 
 of which kept Rome in continual embroilment. Dreadful 
 places they were ; rightly styled by Petrarch " proud towers, 
 enemies of heaven." Rome once bristled with them. Even 
 now the gloomy walls and narrow loophole windows of 
 those which remain bear a sinister aspect, frowning in 
 the sunshine as though they belonged to the kingdom of 
 darkness rather than the free and unsuspicious realm of 
 day. The very manner of their fabrication spoke of faction 
 and the bitterness of party. The flat turret indicated 
 adherence to the Ghibelline cause ; a triangular indentation 
 cut on the summit, attachment to the opposite Guelph 
 interest ; as did also cross frame-work in the windows. On 
 their ground floors were frequently constructed horrible 
 instruments of feudal revenge and tyranny called traboc- 
 chetti : trap-doors being made to allow the miserable victims 
 who passed over them to fall into dark prison-like wells, 
 closed alike from rescue and discovery. These were some- 
 times shaped to a point at the bottom, so that the un- 
 fortunate wretches who became immured within them could 
 not even stand upon their feet or retain any posture of 
 repose for a single moment. 
 
 Of the fortification of the Anguillara stronghold there is 
 not much left beyond the tower, a fagade wall, and a brick 
 archway. The top of the tower is now put to a very 
 different purpose. Between the roof and the walls there is 
 an open space forming a kind of loggia which commands a 
 fine view of the surrounding country. At the season of 
 Christmas a mimic representation of the Nativity is con- 
 structed called the Presepio, and artfully placed to receive 
 the Campagna and Alban hills as a background, by means 
 of which a very pretty artistic effect is obtained. 
 
Chap. IV. ( 6i ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ROME. FROM THE ISLAND TO THE 
 PONS TRIUMPHALIS. 
 
 WHEN we stand upon some of Rome's most classic 
 spots it is impressive to recall the words of the 
 elegiac poet Propertius, in which he addresses the stranger, 
 calling upon him to look round on all that lies before him 
 of the mighty city in the pride of its pomp, and bidding 
 him remember that before the coming of ^neas it was no- 
 thing but a grassy mound upon which the herds of Evander 
 strayed and fed, that the temples glittering before him in all 
 their splendour at first only rose in honour of earthenware 
 gods, when a rude shrine was no shame, and Jupiter thun- 
 dered from a bare rock ; when the sole living creatures the 
 Tiber met on its way were the oxen that grazed upon its 
 banks, and the rocky shelves of the Aventine were the only 
 hearth of the little brotherhood of Remus, and were rule 
 and kingdom enough for them. It is impressive to recall 
 this and look round with the expansive gaze of to-day. Of 
 all the gold and marble that dignified the verse of the poet 
 nothing left but heaps of crumbling dust and a denuded 
 name ! Once more rank weeds choke the place of palaces, 
 and the costly shrine is usurped by mean habitations and 
 noisome heaps of rubbish. The very gods have vanished 
 before the potency of inductive science, leaving no trace 
 behind them but the broken fragments of their marble 
 effigies. 
 
 There is perhaps no place in Rome which ofiers so strong 
 
62 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 a contrast between the past and the present as the one we 
 have now reached, that is, the Sacred Island "which the 
 river surrounds with its divided wave," and the adjacent 
 banks ; for it was chiefly here that the ancient city stood ; 
 and not at the northern extremity, which constitutes the 
 more fashionable quarter of modern times. 
 
 The story given of the origin of this island is a curious 
 one. Higher up the river, and on the right or more 
 northerly side of it, occupying, perhaps, the greater part of 
 
 ISLAND OF THE TIBER. 
 
 the ground upon which the modern city is built, was a large 
 field or open space which in early days had been conse- 
 crated by public decrees to the god Mars, and was used by 
 the youth of Rome whereon to practise martial and gym- 
 nastic exercises. It was called the Campus Martins, a 
 name which is still given to a part of the same district, 
 though it is now covered with houses. This ground had 
 been taken by the last of the tyrant kings Tarquinius, for 
 his own property, and sown with corn. On his banishment 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. 63 
 
 through the instrumentality of Brutus, the royal effects were 
 given over to the people, all except the produce of this field, 
 which then stood ripe to harvest, or, perhaps, already 
 reaped ; but as the ground had been dedicated to a sacred 
 purpose, it was not thought lawful to make use of it : it was 
 therefore thrown into the river, with whatever shrubs and 
 trees had grown there ; thence floating down to where the 
 island now stands. Being here arrested, the silt of the 
 river accumulated upon and around it, resulting in the for- 
 mation of this island, though probably it has been artificially 
 modified at various times. 
 
 The story of its consecration is told by Livy and Ovid. 
 It is an old fable, but full of significancies. 
 
 In the fifth century of the city, a little less than three 
 hundred years before the birth of Christ, a dire contagion 
 spread itself, not only over Rome, but the whole country of 
 Latium, insomuch that the people, distracted with so many 
 deaths, sent messengers to Delphi to consult the oracle as 
 to what means should be taken to cause its termination. 
 The Delphic reply told them that they must seek their 
 remedy nearer home ; for that it was not Apollo but 
 Apollo's son whom they wanted. On further inquiry they 
 were directed to Epidaurus in Argolis, where they were 
 assured they should find him whom they sought. Thither 
 they accordingly went, and summoning the elders, informed 
 them of the words of the oracle and besought them that 
 they might carry away the divinity which they had come in 
 search of. Upon this there was a great consultation, some 
 contending that the image should be permitted to be taken 
 away, others again as strongly advocating that it should be 
 retained. Thus they deliberated until nightfall, when the 
 consideration was deferred ; the Roman leader being left in 
 the temple. As he slept in the night he had a dream, and 
 in his dream the statue of the god became animated, 
 bidding him mark the serpent that entwined his staff, and 
 telling him that he should be transformed into a similar 
 
64 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 serpent, but of vastly larger dimensions, as became a god. 
 When the assembly met again in the morning they be- 
 sought the god to let them know his will and pleasure by 
 an indication as to what course of conduct they ought to 
 pursue. As they thus accosted the statue, the god himself 
 suddenly emerged from the foot of the altar in the form of 
 a snake of enormous proportions covered with glistening 
 plates of gold, shaking the whole structure from marble 
 pavement to gilded roof. As he erected himself, rolling 
 his eyes of fire, the priest who stood by with his hair bound 
 in a white fillet, raised the cry, *' Behold the god !" assuring 
 the people and praying that the nation might be assisted 
 in their rites. The serpent hissing loudly three times, 
 turned round as if to bid farewell to the temple, and then 
 glided over the polished pavement strewed with flowers, 
 taking his way to the ship which lay in the harbour. When 
 he reached the vessel he placed himself within it, resting his 
 head upon the stern. They sailed many days until they 
 arrived at Antium, where they were obliged to put in shore 
 on account of stress of weather. Here the god, abandoning 
 the ship, went to pay a visit to the shrine of his parent 
 Apollo, and then returning, placed himself within it as 
 before. Thus entering the Tiber, notice having already 
 been received of their coming, they were welcomed by a vast 
 assemblage of persons. On each side of the river, altars were 
 erected, from which dense fumes of incense rose into the 
 air. When they came to Rome, the serpent raised himself 
 as if looking for a place of habitation, and here, where 
 the river extends its arms on either side, leaving this 
 island in the middle, he forsook the ship, and resuming his 
 celestial form, brought health and happiness to the afflicted 
 city. 
 
 It was in commemoration of this event that the island 
 was fashioned into the form of a ship. Huge blocks of 
 travertine and peperino still remain about the prow 
 (pointing down the stream), imitating on a grand scale the 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. 65 
 
 form of planks upon which are chiselled the figure of a 
 serpent twined about a rod, and, farther down, the head of 
 an ox. A temple was raised to ^sculapius, in which his 
 statue was placed, which probably stood in the fore part of 
 the simulated vessel, hospitals for the sick occupying the 
 sides, a tali column or obelisk rising in the midst to repre- 
 sent a mast ; temples were also dedicated to Jupiter and 
 to Faunus. To these was added a prison, in the days of 
 Tiberius, in which persons of distinction upon whom a sen- 
 tence of death had been passed, were confined for ten days 
 previously to execution ; their respite afterwards being 
 extended to thirty. 
 
 The sick persons who visited the temple of ^sculapius 
 hoping for a cure, generally remained within it one or two 
 nights. It was then supposed that the god appeared to 
 them in a dream revealing the means of their recovery. 
 Sometimes, under conditions prescribed by the priests, 
 parents were permitted to expose their children on this 
 island. Sick slaves also, whose recovery was either doubtful 
 or tedious, were brought hither and abandoned. Claudius 
 enacted that should a slave so renounced survive, he should 
 have his liberty. 
 
 The island is now called San Bartolomeo from a church 
 probably built on the site of the old temple of ^sculapius, 
 dedicated to that saint. This church was founded by Otho 
 the Third, in the year one thousand. It is in the old'basilica 
 form. Twenty-four antique columns of red granite, sup- 
 posed to have belonged to the ancient temple, divide the 
 nave from the aisles. It is said to contain the body of St. 
 Bartholomew. This, however, is contested by the inha- 
 bitants of Benevento, who profess to have the real body in 
 their keeping. 
 
 As if to maintain its ancient character, there is a modern 
 hospital on the island belonging to the order of St. John 
 Calabita (a Spanish saint by whom it was founded), into 
 which all comers are received, of whatever nationality. Such 
 
66 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 an institution in such a place perhaps marks more strongly 
 than anything else the march of centuries, the difference 
 between then and now, the wide contrast between Christian 
 compassion and pagan superstition and cruelty. 
 
 The island is joined to the mainland by two bridges, 
 one on either side : the one to the left called Ponte di San 
 Bartolomeo (the ancient Pons Cestius), the other Ponte 
 Quattro Capi (ancient Pons Fabricius). This bridge obtains 
 its modern name from some four-headed Januses which 
 surmount the parapet. The first, which is to the left 
 looking up the stream, joins the island to that part of 
 Rome known as the Trastevere, or transtiberine quarter, 
 which is supposed to contain a more distinctively ancient 
 Roman type of race than that on the east side of the river. 
 This bridge was built about fifty years before the com- 
 mencement of the Christian era by the praetor Lucius 
 Cestius, who may have been the father of that Caius whose 
 monumental pyramid has already passed under notice. It 
 was restored in the year three hundred and seventy of 
 our reckoning, by the Emperors Valentinian, Valens, and 
 Gratian, as may still be read on the inner parapet wall. 
 The other bridge. Pons Fabricius, connecting the island 
 with the opposite shore, was built some twenty or thirty 
 years later. This bridge is mentioned by Horace in one 
 of his satires, in which he m.akes the dilettante Damasippus 
 say, that being desperate, he stood upon it, with his head 
 covered, ready to cast himself into the waters, when his 
 friend Stertinius coming by persuaded him to become a 
 stoic instead.* 
 
 The views from these bridges are very picturesque. 
 Quaint abutments and arched jetties stretch themselves 
 into the river, the trasteverine channel of which is filled 
 with old black floating Water-mills with slow-revolving 
 wheels, each surmounted by the pious symbol of a cross. 
 These mills are interesting as having been first used by 
 
 ■, I V Sat. II. iii. 
 
 0^.*'. 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. 67 
 
 Belisarius when Rome was besieged by the Goths in the 
 year five hundred and thirty seven : the aqueducts having 
 been broken and the streams arrested that turned the 
 mills of the Janiculum. As the use of horses or mules 
 would have caused an increased consumption of the 
 diminishing stores of the city, Belisarius placed these mills 
 where the current of the river was the strongest. The 
 Goths becoming aware of this, turned large logs and tree- 
 trunks down the stream, which at first were productive of 
 some damage, until a strong chain placed across not only 
 averted the mischief, but caused a barrier to be formed 
 which kept out the boats of the enemy. 
 
 Close to the Ponte Quattro Capi on the island there is 
 a tower which has been evidently cut down from its 
 original altitude. It has a noticeable name in history from 
 its having been occupied by the Countess Matilda, and 
 formed the asylum of the popes Victor the Third and 
 Urban the Second. This remarkable champion of the 
 church was the daughter of Boniface, Count of Modena 
 and Marquis of Tuscany. She was born in the year one 
 thousand and forty-six. Partly from her father and partly 
 from her deceased husband she inherited the rule of the 
 most extensive states in Italy. A widow at thirty, and 
 without any children, she gave herself wholly to the pro- 
 tection and aggrandizement of the papacy. Endowed with 
 a strength of mind and character beyond her sex, her attain- 
 ments and energies placed her amongst the foremost person- 
 ages of her time. She spoke the languages of the various 
 soldiers who served under her banner, and corresponded in 
 several tongues. She not only collected a comprehensive 
 library, but caused a new code of civil law to be drawn up 
 by capable persons. She headed her own troops in battle. 
 She was cheerful, cool, courageous, and of good bodily 
 presence : probably, however, not of very warm or tender 
 affections, or else these qualities were overborne by the 
 more vigorous and masculine ones, since she separated 
 from both her husbands ; her marriage with the second 
 
68 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 having been only dictated by prudential political considera- 
 tions. Her latter years were spent in the practice of an 
 austere piety. When she died she bequeathed all her 
 possessions to the church ; but endless disputes and con- 
 tests for many years rendered the bequest little more than 
 nominal. 
 
 In the immediate vicinity of the same bridge, on the 
 mainland, are the ruins of the Theatre of Marcellus. It 
 was begun by Julius Caesar and completed by Augustus, 
 who dedicated it to his nephew Marcellus, the son of his 
 sister Octavia, the beloved youth who was to have been 
 his successor to the empire, had not a premature death 
 carried him away at the unripe age of eighteen, to the 
 deep sorrow of ail Rome. It was on the occasion of its 
 dedication that Pliny tells us a tame tiger was exhibited 
 on the stage ; the first ever seen at Rome. Seven hundred 
 wild beasts were at that time slaughtered within it for the 
 gratification of the people. It was used as a fortress in 
 the Middle Ages. The palace of the Orsini now occupies 
 a part of the ground upon which it stood. Out of the 
 forty-one arches on each of the three stories in which it 
 was built, only twelve remain over the two larger ones, 
 worn and broken, and partly buried in the ground. The 
 bottom story is formed into shops, whose dingy accessories 
 are quite in keeping with the blackened ruin. It is in one 
 of Rome's most characteristic quarters, and the artist or 
 stranger who would see a little genuine Roman life of the 
 lower order, cannot do better than go there in the evening, 
 when the noisy groups give themselves to chaffering or 
 gossiping. It may be worth his while also to enter one of the 
 dirty little wine-shops in the neighbourhood, where perhaps 
 he will see the ancient — it might be called the classic — 
 game of morra played across the benches ; which is done 
 by the two who are. engaged in it suddenly throwing out 
 the fingers of one hand, both calling out a number loudly 
 at the same instant, the one who guesses the aggregate 
 number of fingers thrown out winning the turn. Some- 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. 69 
 
 times these games end in disastrous quarrels, when knives 
 are drawn and bloodshed ensues. In the shops, whose 
 dim recesses seem made on purpose for the pencil of a 
 Rembrandt, a little lamp may be seen burning before a 
 picture or image of the Virgin whose lineaments are scarcely- 
 discernible through the surrounding gloom. 
 
 Just past the island, on the right bank of the river, is the 
 Ghetto, or Jews' quarter. The forefathers of this colony 
 were first brought to Rome as slaves by Pompey, fifty 
 years before the birth of Christ. At first their fate was a 
 hard one : they suffered nothing but persecution and in- 
 dignities, until Julius Caesar somewhat relieved their posi- 
 tion, purchasing thereby their tears and prayers at his 
 death. Augustus gave them still more liberty, assigning 
 them a quarter in Trastevere. All their sorrows were 
 renewed during the reign of Tiberius, and they continued 
 to suffer the worst persecution from Nero to Vespasian. 
 Domitian drove them out of the city altogether, so that 
 they were compelled to roam the country, miserably poor, 
 many of them resorting to disreputable modes of gaining a 
 livelihood. In the twelfth century they would appear to 
 have regained a little more freedom : but in the year 
 fifteen hundred and fifty-six they not only lost all their 
 privileges but were confined within the limits of the present 
 Ghetto by the harsh and intolerant Caraffa of t\iul 
 
 the Fourth, who established the censorship and iaquii>ition 
 in Rome. He compelled every Jew to wear a badge ; the 
 men yellow hats, and the women yellow veils. The Jews 
 remained in the more or less severe confinement of these 
 limits for two centuries, subjected to all sorts of arbitrary 
 restrictions and oppressions. Their permitted occupations 
 were narrowly defined ; thus driving them to many dis- 
 honourable shifts and practices merely to support themselves. 
 They were compelled to listen to a sermon preached 
 against their religion every Sunday. Under Gregory the 
 Sixth they were bound to decorate the Triumphal Arch of 
 
 G 
 
70 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV 
 
 Titus, that commemorated their own defeat and fall, also 
 the road leading to the Coliseum. Under Paul the Second, 
 in the latter half of the fifteenth century, they had to run 
 races at the time of carnival, almost naked, and with ropes 
 about their necks, amidst the jeers and howls of the populace. 
 They were obliged to be within their quarter at a certain 
 time of night, or they were locked out. It was only at the 
 accession of Pius the Ninth, in eighteen hundred and forty- 
 six, that the walls of the Ghetto were levelled with the 
 ground and a larger degree of liberty allowed to them. 
 
 The place is still full of character ; the tall houses are all 
 crowded together; the principal street is so narrow as 
 almost to exclude the light of day ; women sit sewing at 
 the doors of the dark recesses which serve for shops ; the 
 men offer their wares for sale, chiefly consisting of cloths, 
 stuffs, and cast-off clothing, children run about or group 
 themselves at the thresholds ; the whole place is of the 
 dirtiest and most unsavoury possible, and yet, strange to 
 say, not unhealthy : fevers, cholera, and other endemic 
 diseases, it is said, are less prolific there than in other 
 places. Behind all this dinginess there is wealth too : costly 
 stuffs lie treasured within those grimy walls, embroideries 
 and tapestries of high value are buried there, and, doubtless, 
 many a long purse of gold. The colony numbers about 
 four thousand persons. 
 
 The Ponte Sisto is a comparatively modern bridge. It was 
 built in the latter part of the fifteenth century on the ruins 
 of the ancient Pons Janiculensis constructed by Caracalla 
 in order to pass to his garden on the transtiberine side of 
 the river. The views from this bridge are very quaint and 
 characteristic. \ Tall houses rise straight from the water, 
 soiled with mud as if they had grown out of it, with jutting 
 loggias and irregular balconies, still further varied with an 
 informality of window and a picturesqueness of accessory 
 delightful to the eye of the artist. In garden terraces 
 built on broken archways of brick crumbling namelessly 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. . 71 
 
 under the corroding efifects of the river, bushy orange trees 
 reveal their golden fruit glowing abiongst dark green 
 leaves, and trellised vines with long tendrils distribute their 
 grateful shade. Farther still, and high above tfie houses, 
 the vast dome of St. Peter rises, with its expansive curves 
 all softened and harmonised, thrusting its tall cross into the 
 very skies, and farthest of all, the dim blue ridge of the 
 Janiculan range fringed with a few cypresses and the grace- 
 ful ornament of the full-foliaged stone-pine. 
 
 A little higher up from this bridge is the Palazzo Farnese 
 on the one hand, and the Villa and Palace of the Farnesina 
 on the other. The first of these, begun by Vignola and 
 finished by Michael Angelo, is considered one of the finest 
 pieces of architecture in its style extant. The Farnesina 
 is chiefly noticeable for its frescoes by Raphael. They 
 were painted for a rich merchant of Siena, named Agostino 
 Chigi, a great promoter of the arts, who built the palace 
 and resided there. It is said that whilst working upon 
 these frescoes Raphael fell in love with the daughter of 
 a neighbouring baker, which caused him so to neglect his 
 work that his patron requested that she might be brought 
 to the palace, that the painter might talk to his innamorata 
 and proceed with his occupation at the same time. If the 
 portrait called the Fornarina which he has left to us be 
 a faithful likeness of that lady, her beauty was certainly not 
 striking ; perhaps the want of it was compensated by vivacity 
 of manner and exuberance of wit. This same Chigi was a 
 man of some note also. The first books in the Greek 
 language, printed in Rome — Pindar in the year fifteen 
 hundred and fifteen, and Theocritus in the following one 
 — were printed for him and in his own house : the edition 
 of the latter, I believe, still keeps a name for its accurate 
 reading. In this palace he once entertained Leo the Tenth 
 and his whole court with great sumptuousness and magni- 
 ficence at one of the most costly feasts given in modern 
 times ; after which, the dishes and plates, all of silver, upon 
 which it was served were thrown into the Tiber ; Agostino, 
 
 G 2 
 
72 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 however, like a prudent man as he was, taking care that 
 they should be fished up again afterwards. 
 
 The low-spired church here seen, on the Janiculan heights, 
 is that of San Pietro in Montorio, and not very distant from 
 it the convent of St. Onofrio, interesting for its association 
 with the last days of the poet Tasso. He had come to 
 Rome for the honour of a public coronation at the Capitol, 
 such as Petrarch had received. The excitement was too 
 much for his delicate frame enfeebled by so many vicis- 
 situdes. He was taken to the convent to die. "I have 
 been brought," he says in his last letter to Antonio Cos- 
 tantini, "to this monastery of Saint Onofrio, not only 
 because the air is recommended by the doctors above that 
 of every other part of Rome, but to commence my conver- 
 sation in heaven, so to speak, from this elevated spot, and 
 with the intercourse of these devout fathers." He died, 
 after a brief illness, on the twenty- fifth of April in fifteen 
 hundred and ninety-five. 
 
 Advancing still upwards, the conspicuous church with its 
 elevated dome on the right is that of San Giovanni in 
 Fiorentini, a modern structure not otherwise noticeable ; 
 opposite to which is the Lunatic Asylum. A little farther 
 the river makes a sudden bend in an easterly direction. 
 
 Here an extensive building stretches itself along the left 
 bank, the Hospital of Santo Spirito. This was the first 
 foundling hospital established in Europe. It was founded 
 by the excellent and Christian-minded Pope Innocent the 
 Third about the beginning of the thirteenth century, who 
 was so shocked at hearing of the numbers of small children 
 drawn up by the fishing nets from the river, that he 
 devised this as a remedy. It has been rebuilt and en- 
 larged at successive periods. The system of the clan- 
 destine deposit of children has since grown European ; 
 though, I believe, it has never prevailed in England. In 
 a by-street on the other side of the building, there is a 
 grated projection sufficiently large to receive a young child, 
 in the inside of which is a cushioned cradle, in which the 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. 73 
 
 infant is placed, when a turn is given to the apparatus, 
 and the child is immediately separated from the ties of 
 every earthly relationship. Denied the maternal care, it 
 is no wonder that more than one-half of these unfortunate 
 creatures should perish in infancy. How many a mother 
 has stood trembling beside that dark grating with a heart 
 full of tears and bitterness, straining to behold to the last 
 moment the face of her helpless offspring, to resign which 
 appears like resigning her very self, her own soul ; and 
 once the fatal separation made, has turned from it with a 
 pang more painful than that of death itself! Not always, 
 however, are these innocent victims of circumstance quite 
 lost to their parents. Some token or other is sometimes 
 preserved, recognition afterwards taking place ; but such 
 re-meetings must be rare and difficult. Generally, the 
 grave can be no more silent than the walls of this ill- 
 starred abode. Not infrequently married persons — even 
 of those having families of their own — adopt one or more 
 children from this institution. The building is not, however, 
 entirely occupied by foundlings ; its large extent embraces 
 accommodation for numerous sick patients ; and doubtless, 
 many have reason to be grateful for the friendly shelter 
 of the Tiber-washed walls of the Hospital of Santo Spirito. 
 
 Precisely at this curve of the river, and where it is the 
 nearest to St. Peter's, at low water may be seen the 
 remains of the ancient Pons Triumphalis. It was across 
 this bridge that the barbarous but splendid spectacle of 
 the Roman Triumph used to pass. This, as every one 
 knows, was the public festival held after a great victory, 
 only accorded on high and stringent conditions, when the 
 whole conquering army together with the spoils of the 
 vanquished and their principal personages, accompanied 
 with all the pomp of military and civic circumstance, were 
 passed in review before the people. 
 
 Let us rebuild the bridge in imagination and stand upon 
 it, spectators of one of these wonderful pageants, to realise 
 which nothing is wanting in the records of history. 
 
74 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 Long before the break of day the whole city is up. 
 Everywhere scaffolds and galleries are erected from which 
 to behold the coming spectacle, to bear the least service in 
 which has been a source of canvassing and rivalship for 
 many a day. All the people are dressed in white : nobody 
 so poor that he cannot find a garment for this occasion. 
 Gorgeous temples reveal their dim interiors smoking with 
 incense and garlanded with flowers. Bustling ofBcers clear 
 the centre of the streets, pushing back the eager crowds. 
 All night, and long before, the army encamped outside of 
 the city has been making preparation for its triumphal 
 entry into it. It is that of the consul Paulus ^Emilius, 
 returned from the conquest of Macedonia : a man of noble 
 and fine traits, though not altogether free from the barbarities 
 incident to his time. Now every avenue is crowded : white 
 garments flutter everywhere. Friends look for friends 
 wherewith to congratulate. Eagerness and expectation 
 show themselves in every face. Hark ! they come. The 
 restlessness of the multitude subsides. Nearer and nearer 
 the music sounds. Now they pass the bridge upon which 
 we stand, in order to enter the city. The procession is 
 headed by the magistrates and the whole body of the 
 senate arrayed in their robes of office. Then appear the 
 statues, pictures and colossal images taken from the van- 
 quished, piled up on two hundred and fifty chariots, ac- 
 companied by persons bearing boards on which are written 
 in large letters the names of the conquered cities, together 
 with plans and drawings of them, also models in wood 
 and ivory. Then innumerable waggons laden with the 
 finest and richest armour of the Macedonians, both brass 
 and steel, all cleaned and polished for the occasion, dis- 
 posed in the most artistic manner as if tumbled in heaps 
 by chance, yet loosely bound together so as to clash in 
 the movement, thus producing a kind of reminiscence of 
 their deadly purpose in warfare. From amongst shields, 
 greaves, habergeons, quivers and helmets, sword-points 
 bristle, flashing in the sun. Then follow three thousand 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. 75 
 
 men, bearing four hundred and fifty vessels filled with 
 silver coins, four to each vessel ; others carry cups, bowls 
 and goblets of gorgeous workmanship, set out to the best 
 advantage. After these come the trumpeters, not with 
 notes of peace, but blaring out a fierce war-peal — the 
 charge for onset — till every soldier's " blood bounds and 
 tingles in his veins, as he clutches his sword the tighter, 
 and sets his feet more firmly to the ground. Then come 
 troops of young men robed in ornamentally-bordered 
 garments, leading to the sacrifice a hundred and twenty 
 oxen with gilded horns and heads adorned with ribbons 
 and garlands, no suspicion in their mild eyes of the fate 
 that awaits them. Along with these are boys carrying 
 basins of silver and gold for libation. Then follows the 
 gold coin borne in seventy-seven vessels, each of three 
 talents. Then the consecrated bowl of ten talents, made 
 of gold and set with precious stones, which ^milius had 
 vowed to the god of the Capitol ; followed by the whole 
 service of gold plate from the royal table of Perseus, the 
 Macedonian king. Then the chariot of Perseus, in which 
 his armour is placed together with his diadem — symbol of 
 kingly rule now no more. Presently come the children of 
 the fallen monarch, together with their servants, teachers 
 and other attendants weeping and stretchi>ig forth their 
 hands, imploring mercy and pity for their charge. And 
 now a very saddening episode occurs. Amongst these 
 children are two little boys and a girl, brought up in all 
 the wealth and luxury of royalty, henceforward to be the 
 slaves of a ruthless conqueror. So young are they that 
 they do not even perceive their unfortunate position, but 
 with childish prattle look about them in wonder at the 
 magnificent pageant by which they are surrounded. Their 
 very insensibility makes their situation the more touching, 
 compelling even the sturdy Romans to confess theii 
 humanity in compassionate floods of tears as they pass. 
 Perseus himself follows, dressed in black, looking like one 
 absolutely stunned and deprived of reason in the severity 
 
76 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 of his misfortune, surrounded by his servants and depen- 
 dents, who appear to regard his grief, forgetful of their 
 own. No wonder he should look sad. To be conquered 
 by a foreign enemy meant the loss of everything then ; not 
 only rule and state, not only liberty and, perhaps, life — for 
 the loss of these things to a 'brave man might have been 
 borne — but there was also the knowledge that the wife, 
 family and friends of the conquered were all involved with 
 him in common ruin, and perhaps reserved to fates worse 
 than his own — this it was that stabbed bravery to the 
 heart and made courage itself tremble. Not even could he 
 say, my children will call me father when I die, and keep 
 my name alive amongst men. His whole household shared 
 his condition. Pity for others knew no drop of mercy for 
 him. The inexorable cancelled his name from the book of 
 the living, not even allowing him a recording tombstone 
 when he died. To be conquered was to be annihilated, 
 converting the page of existence into an empty and dreary 
 blank. No wonder that Perseus should look distracted 
 and disconsolate. In these Triumphs nothing of humilia- 
 tion was spared to the conquered. By the current brutality 
 of the time, not only did they submit to the indignity 
 belonging to the position of a vanquished people, but 
 hired wretches walked beside them, ridiculing them and 
 taunting them with their downfall, heaping shameful re- 
 proaches and scornful jests on their already too hard 
 fortunes. But the procession does not wait. Soon all 
 traces of sadness are lost in the moving pageant. Four 
 hundred crowns are borne by, the tribute of the several 
 vanquished cities, given in token of fealty to their con- 
 querors. Last of all ^Emilius himself appears : a man 
 well worthy to be looked upon, as the historians confess, 
 even without these insignia of state about him. He rides 
 in a chariot magnificently decorated, dressed in a purple 
 robe shot with gold, bearing a laurel branch in his right 
 hand, followed by his two sons, Quintus Maximus and 
 Publius Scipio — sons by birth, though now calling another 
 
Chap. IV. ROME. 77 
 
 by the name of father, for these are given away in 
 adoption. They are accompanied by other illustrious per- 
 sonages. Then comes the whole army ; first the cavalry, 
 troop by troop, then the cohorts, each in its order, the 
 soldiers carrying boughs of laurel and singing verses in 
 praise of their commander and his deeds, or in ridicule of 
 their fallen foes. 
 
 It is a proud position, that which iEmilius occupies at this 
 moment ; honoured by the whole city, and that city the great- 
 est on the earth's surface. Right royally he bears himself 
 amidst the radiance and splendour around ; the object of 
 attraction to the eyes of gazing thousands : so that it might 
 naturally be supposed, that if ever a man had reached the 
 top of human ambition, and found the full happiness of 
 glory, honour, praise, popularity and reverence, it was 
 Paulus iEmilius that day. Let us see if it was really so 
 — if all was satisfied desire, calmness and contentment 
 beneath the purple robe and laurel crown. 
 
 ^milius was a tender-hearted man, as tenderness went in 
 those days : he loved his own, no doubt, very dearly. He 
 had two sons still left to him, sole heirs of his name and 
 fortune — two others, the fruits of a first marriage, he had 
 given in adoption, as has been said. The youngest was 
 twelve years of age — that period of promise when the 
 character first begins to dawn on the soul — the true infancy 
 of manhood, the spring of the human year. Many a time 
 had he been brought outside the gates of the city to witness 
 the bustling preparations for the coming triumph, till his 
 young heart beat high with joy. Long days before, the 
 proud father had anticipated the pleasure of making the 
 boy a sharer of his honours. He would sit by his side in 
 the chariot ; how his eyes would sparkle with delight in the 
 splendour of the occasion — an occasion which he would 
 remember to the last day of his existence, proud to be able 
 to say, ^milius was my father ! But fate had decreed it 
 otherwise. Five days before the crowning consummation of 
 the general's glory, his darling boy sickened and died. 
 
78 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IV. 
 
 Think if it were all happiness beneath that silk and gold ; 
 if no pang of sorrow shot through the father's heart, be- 
 dimming the brilliancy of the pompous spectacle and turning 
 its gorgeous panoplies into the wearisome tediousness of a 
 miserable and empty piece of vanity. Three days after- 
 wards his remaining son will likewise be snatched from him 
 by inexorable death, and the bereaved father be left child- 
 less. 
 
 Three long days has it taken for this procession to pass 
 under review. Now it is over. It will find a sickening 
 termination. It will go to the Forum, to the foot of the 
 Capitol, where many will be cruelly put to death — 
 where a black prison yawns, dark and loathsome, filled 
 with horror and the shudderings of despair, whose tomb- 
 like vaults to this day seem to renew echoes of the anguish 
 they have known, in which will be plunged the kingly 
 Perseus, shorn of every beam of royalty, to suffer and 
 pine till unusual clemency shall afford him from all the 
 world a little less repulsive corner, where, overcome by his 
 misfortunes, he may sicken and starve, perishing miserably. 
 Of his children let us not inquire further. Enough 
 to have lingered for a moment on the black spot that gave 
 a deadlier hue to the crimson stains which render infamous 
 the barbaric splendours of a Roman Triumph. 
 
 Many such proud processions has the ancient river here 
 witnessed, as those old arches on the Via Sacra testify 
 with their broken sculptures and half-obliterated inscriptions, 
 so lordly in their glory, so extravagant in their ostentation, 
 that in order that the head of an emperor even might not 
 be turned by them, it was found necessary to place behind 
 him a slave to whisper in his ear, amidst the wild shouts of 
 lo triumphe ! which tore the skies, Caesar, remember that 
 thou art but a man ! 
 
Chap. V. ( 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ROME. FROM THE BRIDGE OF ST. ANGELO 
 TO THE PORTA DEL POPOLO. 
 
 THE traveller following the upward course of the Tiber 
 finds no more characteristic and impressive prospect 
 than that which meets his gaze when he has left the bridge 
 and castle of St. Angelo behind him, and, looking back- 
 wards, he sees the dome of St. Peter's and the tomb of 
 Hadrian stand within the limits of the same vision, the 
 grandest of ancient and modern monuments, side by side ; 
 the one a memento of the hope of immortality in the "con- 
 servation of the bodily frame, the other of the faith in it 
 through the culture and development of the spiritual and 
 insubstantial part of our being. Neither from the picturesque 
 point of view could anything be finer ; particularly if seen 
 under the glow of the downward-sloping sun of a rich and 
 mellow afternoon. Then the animated stone figures which 
 stand upon the bridge seem to wave their garments and 
 flutter their wings in the bickering light, and high up on the 
 summit of the lofty tower, the bronze angel, touched with 
 the ethereal gleam, seems to tremble too, as if longing to take 
 his flight into the liquid glory by which he is surrounded, 
 and bid farewell to the earth for ever. Then, beyond the 
 bridge and the impassioned figures that guard its parapets, 
 the dome of St. Peter's rises, majestic, vast, dim and broad 
 in its proportions ; more like some huge growth of earth 
 and sky than a fabric raised stone by stone through the 
 laborious efforts of human skill and industry. 
 
8o 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 The bridge was built by the emperor Hadrian about the 
 year one hundred and thirty-six, for the purpose of passing 
 to his tomb which lay just on the other side of it. It was 
 called ^lius from one of the names borne by that emperor. 
 In the Middle Ages it shared the history of the mausoleum 
 and was the scene of many a fearful struggle and terrible 
 tragedy. In the lawless time of the eleventh century 
 Cencio, the son of the prefect, erected a high tower near it, 
 from which he exacted toll or black-mail on the passers, 
 
 CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO. 
 
 and once imprisoned the pope himself (Hildebrand) within 
 it, who was, however, rescued by a popular rising. In the 
 jubilee year fourteen hundred and fifty some portion of 
 the bridge gave way under the pressure of a crowd of 
 persons returning from the papal benediction, when almost 
 two hundred were killed. Two chapels were afterwards 
 built on the right bank for the benefit of the souls of those 
 who had perished ; but these being made use of by the 
 army led by Bourbon at the time of the siege of the castle, 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 8i 
 
 they were demolished and the statues of St. Peter and St. Paul 
 placed there instead. Afterwards, the parapet was built and 
 statues of angels bearing the instruments of the passion 
 placed upon it. The angel of the cross is by Bernini, the 
 others by his pupils. Much as it is the fashion to speak 
 slightingly of these, one must allow that whatever be their 
 demerits as works of art their position and general 
 f)icturesqueness would make their removal a matter of 
 regret to every one who has once seen their agitated forms 
 against the sturdy and immovable walls of the old mauso- 
 leum, or giving value to the quiet and exquisite curves of 
 the dome of St. Peter's. 
 
 On the left bank, and close to the river, the mausoleum of 
 Hadrian or Castle of St. Angelo stands, apostrophised by 
 Lord Byron : 
 
 Turn to the mole which Hadrian reared on high, 
 
 Imperial mimic of old Egypt's piles, 
 
 Colossal copyist of deformity, 
 
 Whose travell'd phantasy from the far Nile's 
 
 Enormous model, doom'd the artist's toils 
 
 To build for giants, and for his vain earth, 
 
 His shrunken ashes, raise this dome: How smiles 
 
 The gazer's eye with philosophic mirth, 
 
 To view the huge design which sprung from such a birth I 
 
 To give the whole history of this majestic monument of 
 Rome's bygone splendour, would be to give the history of 
 Rome itself since it was built. A sketch of the vicissitudes 
 it has passed through, together with a more detailed 
 narrative of some of its most important and picturesque 
 phases, must serve our purpose here. 
 
 The mausoleum of Augustus in the Campus Martius 
 being fully occupied when the ashes of Nerva had been 
 deposited therein, Hadrian laid the foundations of a still 
 vaster and grander place of imperial sepulture on the oppo- 
 site side of the river and lower down, intended, perhaps, to 
 outvie the former in magnificence and grandeur. And what 
 foundations ! Whoever will go carefully over the explora- 
 tions figured in Piranesi's * Antichita Romane,' will gain a 
 
82 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 new idea of the marvellous workmanship accomplished by* 
 those wonderful Romans of old. Down below the sunless 
 bed of the Tiber these stupendous substructures lie, stone 
 biting Into stone, arch reversed upon arch, wall set upon 
 wall ; not as men build, but as Nature builds when she 
 raises her fastnesses for the eagle. No wonder that It 
 should stand : it would be a wonder, rather, if it shoulS 
 ever fall whilst Time itself lasts. Though Hadrian began 
 it, he did not complete it. It was finished by Antoninus 
 Pius, in the Christian year one hundred and forty. In the 
 elaborately drawn restoration of Canlna, based upon all 
 known authorities as to « its former condition, it may be 
 recalled more or less clearly to the mind's eye. The 
 entrance was without a portico, on the ground floor, above 
 which was raised a tier of tablets going round the whole 
 building, probably having upon them inscriptions to the 
 dead. At the four angles of the square basement were 
 placed equestrian statues. Above this rose another story 
 with fluted Ionic columns supporting a handsome frieze or 
 pediment, with statues placed between each column, and 
 upon this another In the same manner, excepting that the 
 columns were of the Corinthian order. The several stories 
 diminished gradually in area as they went higher ; the 
 whole being surmounted with a conical roof crowned with 
 the large pine-cone of bronze, now in the gardens of the 
 Vatican. It was entirely covered with Parian marble, Its 
 sculptures being of the same material. From its enormous 
 size it must have been one of the most striking and im- 
 posing monuments ever raised by human hands. It is nine 
 hundred feet in circumference, and the external wall is 
 about fifty feet in thickness. Immediately within this 
 wall was an inclined plane (a part of which still remains), 
 along which a carriage might have driven to the summit. 
 A square chamber occupied the centre of the building, in 
 which the sarcophagi stood, the cinerary urns being placed 
 at the sides. 
 
 This tomb was not the only monument that the inde- 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 83 
 
 ^atigable emperor, whose name it bears, left behind him. 
 He made a tour through a great part of the Roman empire, 
 embracing Europe, Asia, and Africa. He reached Great 
 Britain, where he caused the wall to be built, dividing the 
 northern from the southern portion, fragments of which 
 still remain. At the foot of the hills near Tivoli he raised 
 a* palace of vast extent, which was supposed to be the 
 epitome of all he had seen in his travels. Its extensive 
 ruins still speak its former grandeur. Many fine works of 
 art were found there. He himself was the second to be 
 placed within the tomb he had reared ; an adopted son who 
 died before him being the first. Hadrian died at Baiae, 
 whither he had gone for his health, his remains being 
 brought to the mausoleum by his successor, Antoninus Pius. 
 
 The next laid in it was Antoninus Pius himself, who left 
 a good name behind him. He was the adopted son of 
 Hadrian. His reign of twenty years constituted one of 
 those bright epochs which have the happiness to be almost 
 silent in history. His whole study was for the welfare 
 of his country. War, violence, and crime had nothing to 
 record during his wise and judicious rule. He framed 
 laws, made sanitary regulations, assigned funds for relieving 
 the children of indigent parents, repaired to the best of his 
 power the losses and miseries suffered from earthquakes 
 and other natural causes. Yet with all this he loved the 
 country and country pleasures, as the most elevated and 
 energetic minds almost always do. He had a full voice, a 
 commanding presence, and an impressive personality ; like 
 a sterling coin with a good image stamped upon it, not to 
 give it value, but to confirm it valuable. 
 
 The next who found a dwelling in this lordly sepulchre 
 was a hero indeed. It was Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, 
 nephew and foster-son of Antoninus Pius, whose name 
 must be a star of light to every student of practical morals. 
 He was born in Rome in the year one hundred and 
 twenty-one, and adopted by his uncle, before he was made 
 emperor, on the death of his father, which happened when 
 
84 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 he was quite a young boy. Even then he was a very 
 earnest student, and practised himself in the austerities of 
 the stoic sect of philosophers. Early elected to the most 
 weighty offices of state, he justified the public trust, fulfill- 
 ing in the most unimpeachable manner every function 
 deputed to him. When Antoninus Pius died, he divided 
 the empire with his foster-brother, Lucius Verus, although 
 he had reached the ripe age of forty, and might very well 
 have retained the power in his own hands. He maintained 
 an unbroken friendship with Lucius, overlooking that the 
 latter was opposed to him in almost all the finer elements 
 of character, giving himself up to the unworthy pleasures 
 of degraded sensuous enjoyment. In the meantime, Au- 
 relius ruled as a good man ought to rule, acting as one who 
 lived in the service of the state, and not upon it. Dion 
 Cassius tells us that he applied himself to the most minute 
 offices, never saying, doing, or writing anything negligently ; 
 giving even slight affairs the fullest attention, from an 
 opinion that an emperor ought to do nothing hastily*. He 
 avoided the precedent of failing in little things, lest it should 
 extend to greater. He w^ould frequently remain the whole 
 day through in the senate. Not the least of the blessings 
 of a good man's rule is that the preference of councillors 
 and officers must, be given to good men also. Aurelius 
 selected old and tried hands to second his high intentions, 
 and found them ready to assist him in ruling well. But this 
 great man's life was not altogether spent under the royal 
 purple and surrounded by imperial splendour at home. For 
 five arduous years he campaigned^n central Europe through 
 all the vicissitudes of a severe climate, leaving kingly 
 halls for inclement skies, and every amenity of life for the 
 hard course of military discipline ; and this with a suscep- 
 tible constitution, and much bodily weakness. His fearless- 
 ness and forbearance were exemplified in the fact of a 
 conspiracy against him being discovered, which was crushed 
 by his generosity and coolness without a single punishment ; 
 and when the letters and papers were brought to him 
 
Chap. V. ROME. §5 
 
 discovering the plot, he had them burnt without looking at 
 them. He died towards the end of the second century 
 at Sirmium, the capital of Pannonia, his ashes being borne 
 to repose in his native city. They have perished ; but the 
 memory of a great good man does not perish so easily. 
 Marcus Aurelius read a great lesson to mankind which 
 will live whilst men live. Life for him was a field of duty, 
 in which the only ills were vice, ignorance, and error of 
 judgment and opinion — the ignoring, in fact, of the highest 
 laws of our nature and being : the sole good being virtue, 
 purity of life, temperance and justice in energy and in 
 action. He never forgot these. His whole life was a 
 sermon preached from that most potent and influential of 
 all pulpits, act and practice. He was no self-apologist ; his 
 life needed no explanation. Fortunately, however, for us, 
 we are' not left altogether to infer the principles by which 
 he was governed. From time to time he noted down the 
 rules and laws by which he was, or desired to be, actuated. 
 Translated into all languages, they have been a handbook 
 ever since to every one to whom the main object in life is 
 practically to live up to its highest principles ; and, in this 
 respect, form an admirable appendix to Christian doctrine, 
 with which, indeed, they in a great measure identify them- 
 selves. It is true the Christians suffered persecution during 
 his reign ; but it is almost certain from what is known of 
 the man, that it could not have been by his command. It 
 has been very reasonably urged that Christianity at that 
 period may have been misrepresented as a political faction. 
 At least, it was a more or less secret society, and all secret 
 societies at that time were forbidden. Again, even at so 
 early an epoch, it is possible that there may not have been 
 wanting individuals, enthusiasts who wished to establish 
 it on a temporal basis and dom.inion, which would naturally 
 cause it to fall under the punishment of the Roman laws 
 and jurisdiction. Internal evidence at least acquits Marcus 
 Aurelius of having been a willing party to anything like 
 cruelty or oppression. 
 
 H 
 
86 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 A bronze statue of him seated in majestic action on 
 horseback, to this day stands on the top of Rome's proudest 
 eminence, the CapitoHne Hill, and worthily occupies the 
 exalted position. An epitome of all that is noble in Roman 
 character, he shows us how much may be done in one life- 
 time, and what a grand thing a lifetime may be made. 
 Lord of a large proportion of the material world, he found 
 his vastest empire within, holding a mightier rule than that 
 of kingdoms, and crowned with a loftier monarchy. No 
 wonder he should have been loved by the people he left, 
 behind him. So great, indeed, was their affection for his 
 memory, that there was scarcely a house of note in which 
 his marble bust or figure was not found. Thus it is that 
 even now in Rome there is hardly a gallery, public or 
 private, wherein his dignified and gracious form does not 
 stand before us, and his mild but earnest countenance look 
 on us in marble clearly yet through the vicissitudes of 
 almost two thousand years. 
 
 As if this tomb must be a microcosm and contain samples 
 of all the good and bad in the world, its next occupant was 
 in the utmost contrast to those already laid in it. It was 
 Commodus, the wicked son of an excellent father. How 
 such a monster, indeed, could have proceeded from so noble 
 a parent is one of those problems of time and humanity 
 which it is impossible to solve. It seemed as if he justified 
 the proverb of the old song : '' Full young doth it prick 
 that will be a thorn," for he appeared to take to vice as 
 naturally as his father Aurelius was born to virtue. He was 
 full of meanness, cruelty, and vanity. He danced and sang 
 in public, and acted as a buffoon. He assumed the character 
 of Hercules, and went about clothed in a lion's skin, and 
 bearing a club. He fought at gladiatorial games, but 
 took care to be encased in stout armour, and to carry a 
 heavy sword, whilst his adversaries were naked, armed with 
 weapons of tin or lead. One knows not whether most to 
 abhor the enormities of which he was guilty, or to despise 
 the pusillanimity of the Roman senate and people who 
 
Chap. V. ROME, 87 
 
 submitted to him, and even flattered his excesses. He 
 killed many thousands of wild animals, but always from 
 behind a screen. He never went out without his sword, 
 nor without using it. One day he had determined to put to 
 death some persons about to be made consuls. A little 
 child finding the fatal tablet on which their names were 
 written, carried it to Marcia, his wife. Poison was ad- 
 ministered to the tyrant, but being slow in its effects, he 
 was despatched by an athlete, sent in for that purpose, who 
 strangled him. The senate, whilst congratulating Pertinax 
 his successor, poured curses on the corpse of Commodus, 
 and wanted to drag him through the streets, and throw him 
 into the river ; but this Pertinax would not permit. He 
 too was borne to the place of emperors, and laid, an 
 unworthy occupant, within their tomb. 
 
 After him came Septimius Severus, who died at York, in 
 the year two hundred and eleven, whose ashes were alsa 
 brought hither ; and, last of all, Caracalla, his son, sometimes 
 called Tarantus, after a certain gladiator, who, as Dion 
 Cassius tells us, "was veiy little, very ill-made, and veiy 
 much a villain." He repeated the worst follies and cruelties of 
 Commodus. At an early age he slew Geta, his brother, who 
 had flown to his mother's arms, with whom he should have 
 divided the empire, and many thousands of persons after- 
 wards supposed to be favourable to him. He then gave him- 
 self up to bestiality and pleasure, quite neglecting the affairs 
 of the empire. No wonder he should have been haunted by 
 spectres through the gorgeous halls of the Palatine — his 
 father and his brother Geta, with swords pointed to his 
 bosom at night. No wonder that he should have turned to 
 incantations and strange rites to find a little rest, and been 
 disappointed. The spirits he summoned were avenging 
 ones — his own ; no gods answered his unregarded prayers. 
 Torn by remorse, he passed from one distraction to another, 
 until his miserable life was terminated at the age of thirty 
 by the hand of the assassin after a reign of seven years. 
 
 He was the last emperor laid in the Mausoleum. From 
 
 II 2 
 
88 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 the death of Severus, in the year two hundred and 
 eleven, it remained closed for two hundred years, until the 
 beginning of the fifth century, when it was used as a fortress 
 against the Goths under Alaric. He, however, burst into 
 the tomb, desecrating its places of sepulture and carrying 
 off all the treasured' urns and sarcophagi that he found 
 within it. In the year five hundred and thirty-seven it was 
 again attacked by the Goths under Vitiges, and vigorously 
 defended by the brave Roman general Belisarius, who, 
 when the castle — for henceforth, no longer a tomb, it 
 became a fortress — was on the point of being taken, saved 
 it by casting down upon the enemy the marble statues 
 with which it was decorated. A little later an event oc- 
 curred from which it obtained a new name and significance. 
 About the middle of the sixth century there was born in 
 Rome one of the great lights of the church and noblest 
 ornaments to Christianity, Gregory, the first pope of that 
 name, justly designated the Great. He was of an illus- 
 trious family : his father being a senator and his mother 
 coming of an historic race. He applied himself vigorously 
 to study in his youth. At the age of thirty he was made 
 praetor, or chief magistrate and governor of Rome. On the 
 death of his father he founded a monastery in his own house 
 on the Coelian Hill, and afterwards six others in Sicily. 
 When his year of praetorship had terminated he took the 
 monastic habit, spending his time in study, fasting, and 
 religious observances. One day in passing through the 
 market he saw some British youths exposed for sale, and 
 on inquiring who they were, was told they were called 
 Angli or Angles. " Call them not Angles but angels," he 
 said, '' for surely their faces fit them for such a dignity and 
 companionship," adding that it was lamentable that, having 
 exteriors so fair, there shjould not be God's grace within. 
 Having petitioned the pope to send missions to their 
 country, and finding no one willing to undertake the task, 
 he started himself privately. No sooner was this known 
 to the people than the whole city was in an uproar ; and, 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 89 
 
 running to the pope one day as he entered St Peters, they 
 earnestly besought him to order his return, saying that by 
 his going St. Peter was offended and Rome ruined. He 
 was overtaken, and with much reluctance induced to 
 abandon his intended journey. He subsequently, however, 
 sent St. Augustine and others to fulfil an office which it 
 was denied to him to perform. It was during a residence 
 of three years in Constantinople, whither he had gone upon 
 a diplomatic errand, that he wrote his voluminous and 
 important work upon the Book of Job. When he was 
 made the secretary of Pope Pelagius the Second, he still 
 remained in his monastery, but on the death of that pontiff, 
 in the year five hundred and ninety, he was unanimously 
 elected to the papacy. He did all he could to avoid a 
 dignity courted by so many, and actually wrote to the 
 emperor of the East, entreating him to annul the election. 
 At last, escaping through the well-watched gates of the 
 city in a basket, he went and hid himself in a cave in the 
 middle of a wood ; but being discovered, he was promoted 
 to the see and consecrated. It was no affectation of modesty 
 that caused him to act thus. In writing to Theoctista, the 
 emperor's sister, he says, " I have lost the comfort of my 
 calm, and appearing to be outwardly exalted, I am inwardly 
 and really fallen ;" in a letter to the patrician Narses, " All 
 that the world thinks agreeable brings to me trouble and 
 affliction ;" also to St. Leander, whose acquaintance he had 
 made in Constantinople, "I remember with tears that I 
 have lost the calm harbour of my repose, and with many a 
 sigh I look upon the firm land I cannot reach. If you love 
 me assist me with your prayers." 
 
 The time at which Gregory ascended the throne was one 
 of sore trial and distress at Rome. A tremendous inunda- 
 tion of the Tiber had occurred. The air was poisoned by 
 vast numbers of serpents left by the receded waters. A 
 terrible plague had broken out ; of which, indeed, his 
 predecessor had died. Dismay and terror reigned on every 
 hand. Of course, at that time, when the laws of nature 
 
90 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 were so little understood, the affliction was at once attri- 
 buted to the retributive visitation of God, pretty much as 
 it would have been a few centuries previously. The Deity 
 was angry and must be propitiated. Accordingly, Gregory 
 organised a vast procession with great fasting and humility. 
 A picture of the Virgin Mary, said to be by St. Luke, now 
 in the church of the Aracoeli near the Capitol, was borne 
 through the city. The story goes that when they reached 
 the ^lian bridge — from this event taking the name of 
 St. Angelo — heavenly voices were heard singing in the air, 
 
 Regina coeli laetare, 
 
 Quia quern meruisti portare 
 
 Resurrexit sicut dixit. 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 
 [Rejoice, O Queen of Heaven, for that he whom thou hast been worthy 
 to bear, has risen as he had promised. Hallelujah !] 
 
 To which Gregory answered, 
 
 Ora pro nobis Deum. 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 [Pray to God for us. Hallelujah.] 
 
 And all the people replied, 
 
 Ora pro nobis Deum. 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 
 Upon this there appeared in the air an angel, hovering over 
 the ancient mausoleum, sheathing a bloody sword, and the 
 plague was staid : not, however, before eighty persons in 
 the procession had been struck down mortally as it passed 
 through the streets ; a result more serious than surprising, 
 perhaps, under the circumstances. 
 
 The words of the anthem above quoted are still to be 
 seen inscribed over a tabernacle in the church of the Aracoeli, 
 near the Capitol, and a record of the event written upon 
 parchment is in the archives of the adjoining convent. On 
 St. Mark's day it is still celebrated ; when a procession of 
 ecclesiastics, together with several religious communities, 
 after passing through various parts of the city pause at the 
 
Chap. V. . ROME. - 91 
 
 bridge, singing the same antiphon, Regina cceli laitare. It 
 was not, however, till long afterwards that the mausoleum 
 took the name which it now bears. The bronze figure of 
 an angel in the act of sheathing a sword which stands upon 
 the summit is Only the work of the last century. 
 
 To pursue the story of Gregory a little farther. 
 
 He seems to have concentrated in himself some of the 
 highest and finest qualities of manhood, anticipating his age 
 in some respects by many a century. Coming to the throne 
 at one of the saddest periods of civilized history, when the 
 church was distracted with schisms and heresies, and over- 
 run with abuses ; when the heart of society was rotten to 
 its centre, and vice, selfishness, and injustice were rife 
 everywhere, he stretched forth the hand of love and not of 
 terror, and never utterly in vain. When the bishop of 
 Terracina had caused the Jews to be robbed of their 
 synagogue, he commanded that it should be restored to 
 them ; saying, that they were not to be compelled, but 
 converted by meekness and charity ; and when a rich Jew 
 of Cagliari, converted to Christianity, placed Christian 
 symbols in a synagogue, to the offence of others, he reproved 
 him, and commanded that they should be withdrawn. 
 Tender-hearted as a child, he knew no fear : he was a lion 
 in the cause of right ; and yet his boldness was united with 
 so much tact and fine judgment that he almost never came 
 into collision with absolutely opposing forces. When 
 Romanus, the exarch' or governor of Italy for the emperor, 
 in the year five hundred and ninety-two, broke a solemn 
 league entered into with the Lombards, taking Perugia and 
 several other towns, so that the Lombards in revenge 
 besieged the very walls of Rome, Gregory acted with 
 the utmost promptitude, raising an army for the defence, 
 yet he so far prevailed upon the enemy by well-timed 
 diplomacy as to cause them to retire without further 
 damage: after which he severely reproved the exarch for 
 his perfidy. He attended personally to the wants of the 
 poor, amongst whom there was then much necessity, some 
 
92 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 of them being received and entertained at his own table ; 
 proper officers being appointed to relieve others. Once 
 when a man was found dead at a street-corner, it was 
 presumed through starvation, he denied himself the sacra- 
 ment for several days. He did not scruple even to sell 
 the too luxurious appointments of the church in order to 
 redeem captives taken by the Lombards — his own income 
 being wholly spent on others, and not on himself When 
 the Archbishop of Ravenna used the pallium not only at 
 mass, but at other functions, Gregory wrote to him telling 
 him that no ornament shone so fairly on the shoulders of a 
 bishop as humility. In his letters to his vicars and stewards 
 abroad, he enjoins mildness and liberality towards vassals 
 and farmers ; disapproving anything like oppression, and 
 requiring that time should be allowed for the payment of 
 debts, and instalments taken. His care and consideration 
 extended to the utmost limits of his reach. He counted 
 the whole human race to have claims on him. His touch 
 vibrated through the hemisphere, and beyond it. He never 
 forgot the least in the greatest : he had that rare faculty. 
 The cares of kingdoms allowed him to listen to the com- 
 plaint of a beggar. The affairs of state not only permitted 
 him to remodel the economy of the church to its simplest 
 particular, but to write many books, still famous in eccle- 
 siastical and religious literature, and pen a vast number of 
 letters, still authorities in matters of church ordinance and 
 religious morals. He studied and practised music diligently, 
 first naming the notes by letters. One form of ecclesiastical 
 music still keeps his name — the Gregorian. When John, 
 the Archbishop of Ravenna, reproved him for cowardice in 
 seeking to evade the distinction of the papacy, he wrote a 
 book on the Pastoral Care, setting forth the danger and 
 difficulties together with the duties and obligations of that 
 sacred function — more arduous than the acquirement of 
 any art or science ; first treating of the disposition requisite 
 for so high a calling, then of the duties belonging to it, 
 then what kind of service and care the flock demanded of 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 93 
 
 the pastor, and last of all, the obligations of self-watchful- 
 ness and self-examination which must constantly attend 
 the pastor himself if he would not be one of those 
 
 Blind mouths, that scarce themselves know how to hold 
 A sheephook, or have learned ought else the least 
 That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs.* 
 
 Another of his famous books he called Dialogues : 
 perhaps the least valuable of all his writings. It is full of 
 wild stories of supernatural interference, miracles of saints, 
 and other extravagancies, which may very fairly be referred 
 to the age in which he lived, rather than to the man. 
 Besides these, he wrote numerous Latin hymns, still used 
 in the services of the Roman church, of which the well- 
 known Veni Creator is one. All this was done amidst 
 failing health and a thousand distractions. 
 
 After a course so good and noble, this pattern to the 
 human race expired in the year six hundred and four, 
 about the sixty-fourth of his age. He reigned thirteen 
 years six months and ten days — his biographers cannot 
 spare one from the enumeration. 
 
 The name of Gregory was subsequently numbered 
 amongst the most honoured of the church to which he 
 belonged. With the other three saints revered as " Doctors " 
 of the Latin church his memory was celebrated by rites 
 ordered to be universally observed by Boniface the Eighth 
 in twelve hundred and ninety-five. If ever a man de- 
 served the name of saint it was he. He finds his last 
 resting-place in St. Peter's, and it is the most fitting one ; 
 that many may pass his tomb, and none without a memory 
 of the great man whom it covers. 
 
 From about the year nine hundred and twenty-three the 
 castle was occupied by a Roman lady named Marozia, 
 infamous daughter of an infamous mother. She was 
 patrician by birth, of great beauty, obtaining much power 
 and wide possessions by the worst means. She first 
 
 * Lycidas. 
 
94 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 married Alberic, Count of Tusculum and Marquis of 
 Camerino, who was traitor enough to induce the Hunga- 
 rians to invade Italy, which so enraged his countrymen 
 that he was driven from his stronghold and died at Orte. 
 His widow returned, and again obtained possession of the 
 castle, marrying Guido, Marquis of Tuscany, who attempted 
 to make himself master of the temporal power of Rome. 
 The pope's brother was assassinated in the Lateran Palace, 
 at that time the papal residence, and the pope himself, 
 John the Tenth, taken to the castle of St. Angelo,Vhere 
 he was strangled ; her own son, who was then only 
 twenty-five years of age, being elevated to the papacy 
 under the title of John the Eleventh, and made a mere 
 instrument in the hands of his mother under the control of 
 his brother Alberic. He was afterwards deposed and 
 imprisoned within the fortress. Shortly after the murder of 
 John the Eleventh Guido died, and Marozia took for her 
 third husband Hugo, Marquis of Provence, just elected 
 King of Italy at Pavia, who was so well received at Rome, 
 that he left his army without the gates. A few months 
 afterwards, when they were one day dining within the 
 castle, Marozia asked her son Alberic to bring the king 
 water to wash his hands. He performed the task so 
 awkwardly that the water was spilt ; upon which the king 
 struck him. Full of indignation, Alberic left the castle, 
 and appealing to the people, inveighed against the tyranny 
 of the king. His words took effect. An insurrection 
 ensued, and the king, without attempting a stroke in his 
 defence, was let down from the walls of the castle and 
 escaped. Alberic made himself master of the fortress and 
 of Rome, maintaining his position during four powerless 
 pontificates, for a space of twenty-two years. On his 
 accession he condemned his mother to a perpetual im- 
 prisonment within the fortress of her power, where she 
 died. Her progeny occupied the papacy to three successive 
 generations. 
 
 Towards the end of the tenth century a patrician of 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 95 
 
 Rome, by name Crescentius, placed himself at the head 
 of the citizens in order to shake off the temporal rule of the 
 papacy, which at that time was largely subservient to 
 German influences, the pope himself, Gregory the Fifth, 
 having been placed upon the throne by his cousin, young 
 Otho the Third of Germany, who was then but sixteen years 
 of age, whilst Gregory only numbered twenty-five years. 
 Crescentius raised up an antipope and drove away Gregory, 
 who went to Pavia, and recalling Otho, returned to Rome 
 in his company. The antipope was taken and suffered the 
 most cruel mutilation at the hands of his ruthless adver- 
 saries, who compelled him to ride seated backwards on an 
 ass, in the torn vestments he had usurped, through the 
 streets of the city. Crescentius entrenched himself in the 
 fortress of St. Angclo ; but after some resistance capi- 
 tulated, on condition that his life and liberty should be 
 spared. No sooner, however, had Otho entered the castle 
 than Crescentius, together with twelve of his followers, were 
 beheaded, and their bodies suspended from the battlements ; 
 Stefania, the beloved and beautiful wife of Crescentius, 
 being subjected to the most brutal violence. Disquieted 
 by remorse for these misdeeds, and perhaps moved by 
 the superstitious fear that the end of the world was ap- 
 proaching, as was the general belief and prophecy at 
 that time, Otho undertook a pilgrimage to the sanctuary 
 of St. Michel on Monte Gargano, in the kingdom of Naples. 
 On his return he fell sick by the way, when Stefania 
 caused it to reach his ears that she had great power and 
 skill in the art of healing. She was summoned to his 
 couch, and, lulling all suspicion by her blandishments, ad- 
 ministered to him a dose of poison, thus revenging at the 
 same time her husband's wrongs and her own. Otho died 
 at Paterno, on the borders of the Abruzzi, on the nine- 
 teenth of January, in the year one thousand and two, the 
 last representative of the imperial house of Saxony. 
 
 The building began to assume its present appearance 
 towards the end of the fourteenth century. Its walls were 
 
96 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 raised. It was surrounded by strong fortifications. The 
 walled corridor connecting it with the Vatican was built 
 in the year fourteen hundred and eleven. It would be 
 impossible here to follow all its later vicissitudes. One 
 historic picture, however, must be presented of the impor- 
 tant position it occupied during the siege and sack of Rome 
 by the conjoined forces of Spain and Germany in the year 
 fifteen hundred and twenty-seven. 
 
 Charles the Fifth, emperor of Germany and Spain, after 
 driving out the French from the greater part of Italy, 
 (Francis the First having been taken prisoner at the battle 
 of Pavia, in the year fifteen hundred and twenty-five), be- 
 came an object of jealousy to Pope Clement the Seventh, 
 who, to curb his growing power, allied himself with the 
 French and some of the Italian States. Charles' army 
 was led by the Duke of Bourbon, who was kinsman to the 
 king, but had renounced the interests of France and joined 
 the service of its enemy in consequence of some of his 
 estates having been confiscated, and his stipend as con- 
 stable withdrawn through the disappointed passion of 
 Maria Louisa, the king's mother, who had fallen in love, 
 with him. 
 
 Under these circumstances the army approached the 
 walls of Rome, both the military and civil inhabitants of 
 which felt so secure in their fancied power and the supposed 
 weakness of the enemy, that they took few or no precau- 
 tions to avert the misfortune that awaited them. Not 
 until the enemy was at the gate was it thought necessary 
 even to store and victual the castle of St. Angelo, the main 
 fortress of the city. 
 
 Yet with all this confidence the records of the time give 
 a list of omens and prognostics of the horrors about to 
 ensue, some of them reminding one of the old superstitions 
 of Greece and Rome. Long before the enemy approached 
 the gates of the city a man from Siena, in the character of 
 a prophet, described as of " mature age, dark skin, naked, 
 emaciated, and apparently very religious and devout," went 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 97 
 
 about predicting the certain ruin of the priests and of all 
 the Roman court, and the resuscitation of the church ; fore- 
 warning the people in a loud and fearful voice that the 
 hour of repentance had come, for the scourge was at hand : 
 and though put in prison he still stoutly maintained his 
 prophecy, gaining many to believe him. Another warning 
 was, that an image of the Madonna at the church of Santa 
 Maria, in Traspontina, had been struck by lightning, her 
 crown being shivered, and the Infant broken to pieces in 
 her arms. Another accident also was interpreted to be 
 of sinister import : the host placed in the tabernacle on 
 Holy Thursday had fallen from its receptacle to the ground, 
 "Assured signs," says the chronicler, "quite sufficient to 
 reasonably intimidate every devout Christian." 
 
 After maintaining a vigorous contest outside of the city, 
 the enemy found a weak place near Santo Spirito, where 
 a house had been built into the walls, and here they at 
 last effected an entrance. As soon as the news had spread 
 through the city the greatest consternation prevailed. The 
 pope was hurried immediately to the castle, crying out 
 that he had been betrayed, and lamenting the slaughter 
 and lawless outrages which he saw from the windows as he 
 passed along the narrow corridor. Everybody rushed to 
 the castle ; so that, amongst cardinals, prelates and others 
 who " had forced their way into it, there were no fewer 
 t4ian three thousand persons. It was defended by Cellini, 
 amongst others, who acted as a gunner on the occasion. 
 If his own account is to be believed, he performed almost 
 superhuman feats of courage and skill, killing the Duke of 
 Bourbon (Guicciardini, however, says he was shot on a 
 scaling ladder outside of the walls) on his first approaching 
 the fortress. The defence was maintained for almost a 
 month, but being at last obliged to capitulate, the pope 
 was confined a prisoner within it, until he made his escape 
 to Orvieto, carrying with him the tiara-jewels sewn into 
 his garments by Benvenuto Cellini, who little thought that by 
 so friendly a service he was laying the ostensible founda- 
 
98 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 tion for the subsequent miseries which he suffered within 
 the very walls he had so gallantly defended. 
 
 There are several accounts extant of this terrible occur- 
 rence, from one of which, bearing the name of Jacopo 
 Buonaparte, a few extracts may be made. In pursuing 
 his narrative he says, ** No less horrible a spectacle was it 
 to see the men of a grey old age, whose grade and aspect 
 were full of gravity and reverence, who had been honoured 
 and respected of all for the high authority vested in them 
 in Rome ; for their virtues, good sense, and position, now 
 scorned and outraged ; neither learning, arts, nor religion 
 serving to exempt people from such disgraceful treatment. 
 It appeared truly as if that city which was accustomed to 
 be the conqueror of all nations, the seat of honourable 
 triumphs, the abode of glory, and the true and assured 
 domicile of religion, had been reserved for these evil-doers 
 in order that they might raise a shameful trophy to infamy 
 and dishonour of the most esteemed men within it." 
 
 In another place the historian proceeds : ** How many 
 rare and valuable relics covered with gold and silver were 
 despoiled by bloody and homicidal hands, and in derision 
 of religion cast down to the ground 1 The heads of St. 
 Peter, of St. Paul, of St. Andrew, and of many other saints, 
 the wood of the Cross, the Thorns, the holy Oil, even the 
 consecrated Host were shamefully trampled under foot. 
 Nothing else was to be seen in the streets but plunderers 
 and vile scoundrels carrying great bundles of rich stuffs, 
 ecclesiastical ornaments, and large sacks filled with various 
 sorts of vessels in gold and silver, savouring more of the 
 proud riches and vain pomps of the Roman court than 
 of the humble poverty and true devotion of the Christian 
 religion. Vast numbers of prisoners of every quality were 
 to be seen crying and shrieking, hurried rapidly along by 
 bands of ultramontanes to the wealthy chambers where 
 their treasures were stored. Numerous dead bodies lay 
 about the streets, some cut to pieces, covered with mud 
 and their own blood ; whilst others, only half alive, lay 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 99 
 
 miserably on the ground. Often enough, amidst the frenzy, 
 girls, men, and boys were seen to jump from the windows^ 
 either voluntarily or by compulsion, in order that they 
 might not fall a living prey into the hands of this embruted 
 and ferocious people." 
 
 The details of the miserable sufferings of the Romans 
 at this unhappy time are too harrowing to follow closely. 
 The most horrible cruelties alternated with the most abomi- 
 nable blasphemies ; as if the incarnate spirit of evil had 
 itself broken ioose and was determined to do its worst. 
 Amongst other sickening outrages a priest was put to 
 death with the greatest ignominy and cruelty for refusing to 
 give the sacrament ("ah, hard earth, why dost thou not 
 open !" exclaims the historian in narrating the circumstance) 
 to a dressed-up ass. Some arrayed themselves in sacer- 
 dotal vestments and mocked the service of God at the 
 altars of the churches with horrid oaths and blasphemies. 
 We are told that during this Brocken- feast of horrors the 
 Spaniards were at first much worse than the Germans ; 
 but that afterwards the latter, seeing that the cruelties 
 practised by their comrades were followed by success in 
 producing a larger quantity of booty, set themselves to super- 
 sede all others in brutal ways and inventions. " For which 
 reason," pursues the historian, " it is impossible to imagine 
 a torment, however intolerable, to which, on account of 
 their insatiable avarice, their wretched and miserable pri- 
 soners were not repeatedly subjected. With how much 
 patience these were endured by dainty and delicate prelates 
 and effeminated courtiers it is easy to comprehend, knowing 
 how difficult it was for them in their prosperous fortune 
 to support, I will not say severe ailments of the body and 
 heavy troubles of the mind, but even so much as the bite of 
 a fly." 
 
 Ranke, in his * History of the Popes,' describing this ©Irent 
 says, "The imperial army entered Rome two hours before 
 sunset. Without a leader to check th^ir ferocity the 
 bloodthirsty soldiers, hardened by long privation, poured 
 
loo THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 like a torrent over the city. Never did a richer booty fall 
 into the hands of a more terrible army ; never was there 
 a more protracted and more ruinous pillage. The splendour 
 of Rome fills the beginning of the sixteenth century ; it 
 marks an astonishing period of the development of the 
 human mind ; with this day it was extinguished for ever." 
 
 The interior horrors of the castle of St. Angelo as a 
 prison have been graphically described by Platina, the 
 biographer of the popes, who was confined here under Paul 
 the Second in fourteen hundred and sixty«ight, accused 
 of conspiracy ; but, it would appear, without any proofs 
 of guilt. He says that after he and some others had been 
 taken to the castle, the pope sent his vice-chamberlain 
 Vianesio of Bologna, who, to follow Platina's own words, 
 "caused us to suffer every sort of torture to make us 
 confess what we did not know. On the first and second 
 day many were tortured, a great proportion of whom 
 fainted in their agony. You would have thought at that 
 time that the tomb of Hadrian had been converted into 
 the bull of Phalaris, so terribly did its hollow concave 
 resound with the cries of the miserable young men." He 
 then describes his own tortures by the rope, condemning 
 the conduct of the vice-chamberlain, whose office should 
 have forbidden his presence on such an occasion, who, he 
 says, sat making unseemly jokes "on* outspread carpets as 
 if at a wedding, or rather at the supper of Atreus and 
 Tantalus." 
 
 Eleven years after the sack of Rome above described, 
 Benvenuto Cellini, the celebrated artist in precious metals, 
 was a long time confined prisoner in the castle by Pope Paul 
 the Third, under the accusation of having stolen some of the 
 pontifical jewels at the time of his predecessor's flight to 
 Orvieto. Cellini himself, however, says that he was entirely 
 innocent, and that his imprisonment was an act of jealousy 
 on the part of the pope's favourites. No narrative can do 
 justice to his sorrows but his own in that most inimitable of 
 all autobiographies, a few particulars from which may be 
 
Chap. V. ROME, 
 
 lOI 
 
 given here. It was in vain that he pleaded for evidence of 
 his crime or the means to clear himself In no respectful 
 manner he urged the injustice of his accusation, which in 
 that arbitrary state of legislature served but to aggravate 
 his punishment. He was placed in a dungeon feebly 
 lighted : but fortunately met with a friendly countryman, 
 a Florentine, in the constable of the castle. From him he 
 received many indulgences, and finally was permitted con- 
 siderable liberty on his parole not to misuse it, until he fell 
 under suspicion of abetting a monk in the fabrication of a 
 duplical^ key. From this charge he exculpated himself, 
 explaining that the wax in which the model was formed 
 had been stolen from some which he had used for modelling 
 small figures. The severity, however, with "vyhich he was 
 treated on this occasion caused him to think of attempting 
 his escape from the castle. For this end he managed to 
 retain some gf the sheets of his bed instead of sending 
 them to be washed, which he cut into strips and carefully 
 secreted: He was aided in his project by an extraordinary 
 circumstance which will be best told in his own words. 
 
 "The constable of the castle had annually a certain 
 disorder, which totally deprived him of his senses, and 
 when the fit came upon him he was talkative to excess. 
 Every year he had some different whim ; one time he 
 fancied himself metamorphosed into a pitcher of oil ; 
 another time he fancied himself a frog, and began to hop 
 as such ; another time, again, he imagined he was dead, 
 and it was found necessary to humour his conceit by 
 making a show of burying him : thus had he every year 
 some new frenzy.. This year he fancied himself a bat, and 
 when he went to take a walk, he sometimes made just such 
 a noise as bats do ; he likewise used gestures with his 
 hands and his body, as if he were going to fly. His 
 physicians and his old sei-vants, who knew his disonier, 
 procured him all the pleasures and amusements they could 
 think of; and as they found he delighted greatly in my 
 conversation, they frequently came to me to conduct me to 
 
 I 
 
I02 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 his apartment, where the poor man often detained me 
 three or four hours chatting with him. He sometimes 
 kept me at his table to dine or sup, and always made me 
 sit opposite to him, on which occasion he never ceased to 
 talk himself, or to encourage me to join in conversation. 
 At these interviews I generally took care to eat heartily, 
 but the poor constable neither ate nor slept, insomuch that 
 I was tired and jaded with constant attendance. Upon 
 examining his countenance, I could perceive that his eyes 
 looked quite shockingly, and that he began to squint. He 
 asked me whether I had ever a fancy to fly. I answered, 
 that I had always been very ready to attempt such things 
 as men found most difficult ; and that with regard to 
 flying, as God had given me a body admirably well cal- 
 culated for running, I had even resolution enough to 
 attempt to fly. He then proposed to me to explain how I 
 could contrive it. I answered, that when I attentively 
 considered the several creatures that fly, and thought of 
 effecting by art what they do by the force of nature, I did 
 not find one so fit to imitate as the bat. As soon as the 
 poor man heard mention made of a bat, his frenzy for the 
 year turning upon that animal, he cried out aloud, * It is 
 very true, a bat is the thing.' He then addressed himself to 
 me, and said, ' Benvenuto, if you had the opportunity, would 
 you have the heart to make an attempt to fly .''' I answered, 
 that if he would give me leave, I had courage enough to 
 attempt to fly as far as the meadows by means of a pair 
 of wings waxed over. He said, thereupon, * I should like 
 to see you fly ; but as the pope has enjoined me to watch 
 over you with the utmost care, and I know that you have 
 the cunning of the devil, and would avail yourself of the 
 opportunity to make your escape, I am resolved to keep 
 you locked up with a hundred keys, that you may not slip 
 oufe of my hand.' I then began to solicit him with new 
 entreaties, putting him in mind that I had had it in my 
 power to make my escape, but through regard to the 
 promise I had made him, would never avail myself of the 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 103 
 
 opportunity. I therefore besought him for the love of 
 God, and as he had conferred so many obligations on me, 
 that he would not make my condition worse than it was. 
 Whilst I uttered these words, he gave instant orders that 
 I should be secured and confined a closer prisoner than 
 ever. When I saw that it was to no purpose to entreat 
 him any farther, I said before all present, ' Confine me as 
 close as you please, I will contrive to make my escape not- 
 withstanding.' So they carried me off, and locked me up 
 with the utmost care."* 
 
 From this moment Cellini's mind was fully made up. 
 First of all he formed his sheets into bands, which he 
 sewed together, and having managed to obtain a pair of 
 pincers, he commenced to draw out the nails from the iron 
 plates of his door, which he did with a great deal of diffi- 
 culty, particularly as he was occasionally visited during 
 the night to satisfy the fears of the constable. As fast as 
 he drew out one of these nails, the form of the head was 
 imitated in wax mixed with rusty filings, so as to deceive 
 the eye ; the various articles being hidden in the ticking of 
 his bed, from which he managed to divert inspection. At 
 last his preparations being completed, he put his project in 
 practice in the following manner. 
 
 " One holiday evening, the constable being very much dis- 
 ordered, and his madness being at the highest pitch, he 
 scarce said anything else but that he was become a bat, 
 and desired his people, that if Benvenuto happened to 
 make his escape, they should take no notice of it, for he 
 must soon catch me, as he should, doubtless, be much 
 better able to fly by night than I ; adding, ' Benvenuto is 
 only a counterfeit bat, but I am a bat in good earnest. 
 Let me alone to manage him ; I shall be able to catch 
 him, I warrant you.' His frenzy continuing thus in its 
 utmost violence for several nights, he tired the patience of 
 all his servants ; and I by various means came to the 
 knowledge of all that passed, though I was indebted for 
 * This and succeeding quotations are taken from Roscoe's translation. 
 
 I 2 
 
I04 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 my chief information to the Savoyard, who was very much 
 attached to me. 
 
 " As I had formed a resolution to attempt my escape that 
 night, let what would happen, I began with praying fer- 
 vently to Almighty God, that it would please his divine 
 majesty to befriend and assist me in that hazardous enter- 
 prise. I then went to work, and was employed the whole 
 night in preparing whatever I had occasion for. Two 
 hours before daybreak I took the iron plates from the door 
 with great trouble and difficulty, for the bolt and the wood 
 that received it made a great resistance, so that I could 
 not open them, but was obliged to cut the wood. I, how- 
 ever, at last forced the door, and having taken with me the 
 above-mentioned slips of linen, which I had rolled up in 
 bundles with the utmost care, I went out and got upon the 
 right side of the tower, and having observed, from within, 
 two tiles of the roof, I leaped upon them with the utmost 
 ease. I was in a white doublet, and had on a pair of white 
 half hose, over which I wore a pair of little light boots, 
 that reached half way up my legs, and in one of these I 
 put my dagger. I then took the end of one of my bundles 
 of long slips, which I had made out of the sheets of my 
 bed, and fastened it to one of the tiles of the roof that 
 happened to jut out four inches, and the long string of 
 slips was fastened to the tiles in the manner of a stirrup. 
 When I had fixed it firmly, I addressed myself to the 
 Deity in these terms. ' Almighty God, favour my cause, 
 for thou knowest it is a just one, and I am not on my part 
 wanting in my utmost efforts to make it succeed.' Then 
 letting myself down gently, and the whole weight of my 
 body being sustained by my arm, I at last reached the 
 ground. 
 
 " It was not a moonlight night, but the stars shone with 
 resplendent lustre. When I had touched the ground, I 
 first contemplated the great height which I had descended 
 with so much courage ; and then walked away in high joy, 
 thinking I had recovered my liberty. But I soon found 
 
Chap. V. ROME, 105 
 
 myself mistaken ; for the constable had caused two pretty 
 high walls to be erected on that side, which made an in- 
 closure for a stable and poultry-yard. This place was 
 fastened with great bolts on the outside. When I saw 
 myself immured in this inclosure, I felt the greatest anxiety 
 imaginable. Whilst I was walking backwards and for- 
 wards, I stumbled on a long pole covered with straw ; this 
 I with much difficulty fixed against the wall, and by the 
 strength of my arms climbed to the top of it ; but as the 
 wall was sharp I could not get a sufficient hold to enable 
 me to descend by the pole to the other side. I therefore 
 resolved to have recourse to my other string of slips, for 
 I had left one tied to the great tower. So I took the 
 string, and having fastened it properly, I descended down 
 the steep wall. This put me to a great deal of pain and 
 trouble, and likewise tore the skin off the palms of my 
 hands, insomuch that they were all over bloody, for which 
 reason I rested myself a little. When I thought I had 
 sufficiently recruited my strength, I came to the last wall, 
 which looked towards the meadows ; and having prepared 
 my string of long slips, which I wanted to get about one of 
 the niched battlements, in order to descend this as I had 
 done the higher wall, a sentinel perceived what I was 
 about. Finding my design obstructed, and myself in 
 danger of my life, I resolved to cope with the soldier, who 
 seeing me advance towards him resolutely with my drawn 
 dagger in my hand, thought it most advisable to keep out 
 of my way. After I had gone a little way from my string 
 I quickly returned to it ; and though I was seen by 
 another of the soldiers upon guard, the man did not care 
 to take any notice of me. I then fastened my string to 
 the niched battlement, and began to let myself down. 
 Whether it was owing to my being near the ground and 
 preparing to give a leap, or whether my hands were quite 
 tired, I do not know, but being unable to hold any longer, 
 I fell, and in falling struck my head, and became quite 
 insensible. 
 
lo6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 " I continued in that state about an hour and a half, as 
 nearly as I can guess. The day beginning to break, the 
 cool breeze that precedes the rising of the sun brought me 
 to myself; but I had not yet thoroughly recovered my 
 senses, for I had conceived a strange notion that I had 
 been beheaded and was then in purgatory. I, however, by 
 degrees recovered my strength and powers ; and perceiving 
 that I had got out of the castle, I soon recollected all that 
 had befallen me. As I perceived that my senses had been 
 affected, before I took notice that my leg was broken, I 
 clapped my hands to my head, and found them all bloody. 
 I afterwards searched my body all over, and thought I had 
 received no hurt of any consequence ; but upon attempting 
 to rise from the ground, I found that my right leg was 
 broken three inches above the heel, which threw me into a 
 terrible consternation. I thereupon pulled my dagger 
 with its scabbard out of my boot. This scabbard was 
 cased with a large piece of metal at the bottom, which 
 occasioned the hurt of my leg ; as the bone could not bend 
 any way, it broke in that place. I therefore threw away 
 the scabbard, and cutting the part of my string of slips 
 that I still had left, I bandaged my leg as well as I could. 
 I then crept on my hands and knees towards the gate, with 
 my dagger in my hand, and upon coming up to it, found 
 it shut ; but observing a stone under the gate, and thinking 
 that it did not stick very fast, I prepared to push it away. 
 Clapping my hands to it, I found that I could move it 
 with ease ; so I soon pulled it out, and effected my egress. 
 It was about five hundred paces from the place where I 
 had had my fall to the gate at which I entered the city. 
 
 " As soon as I got in, some mastiff dogs came up, and bit 
 me severely ; finding that they persisted to worry me, I 
 took my dagger and gave one of them so severe a stab, 
 that he set up a loud howling ; whereupon all the dogs in 
 the neighbourhood, as it is the nature of those animals, ran 
 up to him ; and I made all the haste I could to crawl to- 
 wards the church of Sta. Maria Transpontina. When I 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 107 
 
 arrived at the entrance of the street that leads towards the 
 castle of St. Angelo, I took my way thence towards St. 
 Peter's gate ; but as it was then broad daylight, I reflected 
 that I was in great danger, and happening to meet with a 
 water-carrier, who had loaded his ass, and filled his vessels 
 with water, I called to him and begged he would put me 
 upon the beast's back, and carry me to the landing-place of 
 the steps of St. Peter's church. I told him that I was an 
 unfortunate youth, who had been concerned in a love- 
 intrigue, and had made an attempt to get out at a window, 
 from which I had fallen, and broken my leg ; but as the 
 house I came out of belonged to a person of the first rank, 
 I should be in danger of being cut to pieces if discovered. 
 I therefore earnestly entreated him to take me up, and 
 offered to give him a gold crown ; so saying, I clapped 
 my hand to my purse, which was very well lined. The 
 honest waterman instantly took me upon his back, and 
 carried me to the steps before St. Peter's church, where I 
 desired him to leave me and to run back to his ass. 
 
 " I immediately set out, crawling in the same manner I 
 had done before, in order to reach the house of the duchess, 
 consort to Duke Ottavio, natural daughter to the emperor, 
 and who had been formerly married to Alessandro, the 
 late Duke of Florence. I knew that there were several of 
 my friends with that princess, who had attended her from 
 Florence ; as likewise I had the happiness of being in her 
 excellency's good graces. This last circumstance had been 
 partly owing to the constable of the castle, who, having a 
 desire to befriend me, told the pope that when the duchess 
 made her entry into Rome, I prevented a damage of above 
 a thousand crowns, that they were likely to suffer by a 
 heavy rain ; upon which occasion, when he was almost in 
 despair, I had revived his drooping courage, by pointing 
 several pieces of artillery towards that tract of the heavens 
 where the thickest clouds had gathered ; so that when the 
 shower began to fall, I fired my pieces, whereupon the 
 clouds dispersed, and the sun again shone out in all its 
 
io8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 brightness. Therefore it was entirely owing to me that the 
 above day of rejoicing had been happily concluded. This 
 coming to the ears of the duchess, her excellency said that 
 Benvenuto was one of those men of genius who loved the 
 memory of her husband, the Duke Alessandro, and she 
 should always remember such, whenever an opportunity 
 oftered of doing them services. She had likewise spoken of 
 me to Duke Ottavio, her husband. I was, therefore, going 
 directly to the place where her excellency resided, which 
 was in Borgo Vecchio, at a magnificent palace. There I 
 should have been perfectly secure of any danger of falling 
 into the pope's hands ; but as the exploit I had already 
 performed was too extraordinary for a human creature, and 
 lest I should be puffed up with vain glory, God was pleased 
 to put me to a still severer trial than that which I had 
 already gone through. 
 
 '• What gave occasion to this was, that whilst I was crawl- 
 ing along upon all four, one of the servants of Cardinal 
 Cornaro knew me, and, running immediately to his master's 
 apartment, awaked him out of his sleep, saying to him, * My 
 most reverend lord, here is your jeweller, Benvenuto, who 
 has made his escape out of the castle, and is crawling along 
 upon all four, quite besmeared with blood ; by what I can 
 judge from appearances, he seems to have broken one of 
 his legs, and we cannot guess whither he is bending his 
 course.' The cardinal, the moment he heard this, said to 
 his servants, ' Run and bring him hither to my apartment 
 upon your backs.' When I came into his presence, the 
 good cardinal bade me fear nothing, and immediately sent 
 for some of the most eminent surgeons of Rome to take 
 care of me ; amongst these was Signor Giacopo of Perugia, 
 an excellent practitioner. This last set the bone, then 
 bandaged my leg and bled me. As my veins were swelled 
 more than usual, and he wanted to make a pretty wide 
 incision, the blood gushed from me with such violence, and 
 in so great a quantity, that it spurted into his face, and 
 covered him in such a manner, that he found it a very 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 109 
 
 difficult matter to continue his operation. He looked upon 
 this as very ominous, and was with difficulty prevailed upon 
 to attend me afterwards ; nay, he was several times for 
 leaving me, recollecting that he had run a great hazard by 
 having anything to do with me. The cardinal then caused 
 me to be put into a private apartment, and went directly 
 to the Vatican, in order to intercede in my behalf with the 
 pope." 
 
 This, however, was not the last time that the unfortunate 
 Cellini saw the inside of the castle. Undermined by his 
 enemies in the favour of the pope, he was finally immured 
 in a worse dungeon, on the horrors of which he dwells very 
 graphically in his biography. It was then that his religious 
 feelings were fully awakened, and the fiery and mettlesome 
 bravado stained with so many homicides, wasted with long 
 confinement and the lack of light, want of proper food and 
 all the wholesome necessaries of life, was reduced to the 
 devotional visionary for whom life had no longer any at- 
 traction. When they came one day to place him in a still 
 more horrible dungeon, he says, " I never once turned about, 
 nor took any notice of them ; on the contrary, I worshipped 
 God the Father, surrounded with a host of angels, and 
 Christ rising victorious over death, which I had drawn upon 
 the wall with a piece of charcoal that I picked off the 
 ground." Blackened with torches, dim with antiquity, the 
 figures still remain, barely discernible, the monument of 
 his bitter sufferings. 
 
 It was long before he was set at liberty. Finally, in an 
 impressible moment the pope consented to his enlargement, 
 and soon the self-assertive and audacious braggart, the 
 impetuous brawler and wonderful artist was as spirited, 
 active and energetic as ever. 
 
 Amongst other dark episodes in the history of this castle- 
 tomb may be mentioned the imprisonment of Benedetto da 
 Foiano, a popular preacher in Florence in the times of the 
 Medici. He was a follower of Savonarola, and in the 
 struggle against the Medicean power in the year fifteen 
 
no THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 hundred and twenty-eight Benedetto did all he could to 
 excite the people in defence of the republic. He is described 
 as a man of fine personal appearance, of much learning and 
 singular eloquence, drawing together vast audiences. He 
 was betrayed to Malatesta Baglioni by a traitorous soldier 
 who had undertaken to favour his escape, and sent to Pope 
 Clement the Seventh (himself a Medici), by whom he was 
 immured in a dark and noisome dungeon in the castle of 
 St. Angelo, where, in spite of the friendly desires of the 
 governor of the castle to mitigate the resentment of the 
 pope against him, after many months, wanting every 
 decency and comfort, the little bread and water allowed to 
 him were gradually diminished until he died miserably ; 
 the too hard fate of an energetic and earnest reformer. 
 " Truly," says the historian Varchi in relating this pitiable 
 story, " he was worthy of a greater and better fortune, or 
 should have been gifted with less learning and eloquence." 
 
 From this period the castle remained in undisturbed 
 possession of the papal power, until the year seventeen 
 hundred and ninety-eight, when it was taken by a republican 
 French garrison, nine thousand strong, who did some 
 damage to the outer works by setting fire to a powder 
 magazine. It was afterwards retaken by the Neapolitans 
 for the papal government. In the year eighteen hundred 
 and eight it was again taken by the French, and only es- 
 caped another occupation six years afterwards by a speedy 
 capitulation. 
 
 It would, indeed, appear as if this wonderful pile were 
 indestructible. When taken from the French occupation 
 for the antipope in one thousand three hundred and seventy- 
 nine, the irate Romans set themselves to destroy it alto- 
 gether ; but after labouring with all their might upon it for 
 several days, they made so little impression that they gave 
 it up in despair. Grim and stern it still keeps watch over 
 the river, unchanged through all changes, defying decay and 
 the ruthless hand of Time. 
 
 Immediately past the bridge on the right bank of the 
 
Chap. V. * ROME. in 
 
 river stands the Apollo theatre, the opera house of Rome. 
 It is built on the site of the old Torre di Nona, a prison in 
 which criminals were placed previous to execution. It 
 was from this place that the unfortunate Beatrice Cenci 
 and her step-mother were led to execution. Here another 
 bridge crossed the river, the Pons Vaticanus. Piranesi and 
 some other archaeologists claim it for the Pons Triumphalis. 
 There is now little to indicate its site excepting a few 
 remains, on which the modern theatre is built. 
 
 Advancing along the river, spreading meadows sweep 
 from the left bank to the very foot of the Vatican. The 
 region of the old Campus Martins lies on the right, now 
 entirely covered with streets and' houses. Presently we 
 arrive at the Ripetta, or wharf, consisting of a picturesque 
 flight of steps, the material for which was taken from the 
 Coliseum. Here a ferry-boat attached to a rope carried 
 across the stream, passes to and fro by the force of the 
 current. On the same side as the wharf, separated from 
 the immediate banks of the river by a street, is the round 
 mausoleum, or tomb of the family of Augustus, the first 
 emperor of Rome, by whom it was built. It is now sur- 
 rounded with buildings ; and it is only here and there that 
 fragments of the ancient masonry {opus reticulatu7?t) are 
 visible. With the help of Strabo's description, it is not 
 difficult to form an idea of its primitive magnificence. It 
 was covered with white marble and surmounted by a 
 tumulus of earth planted with cypresses, and crowned by a 
 colossal bronze statue of the emperor. Adjoining were 
 groves and pleasure grounds. At one side was the bustum^ 
 or place for burning the bodies of the dead, also of white 
 marble, surrounded with a double inclosure, of marble and 
 iron, and planted about with ever-sighing poplars. At the 
 entrance of the mausoleum stood two obelisks, now removed, 
 the one to Santa Maria Maggiore, and the other to the 
 piazza of the Quirinal. There were fourteen chambers 
 ranged round the great rotunda in the interior, the whole 
 diameter being about two hundred and thirty feet. 
 
12 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 Whilst dwelling upon the monument, let us spend a few- 
 moments upon its occupants. First of all upon him who 
 raised it ; for the emperor Augustus was not only himself 
 a remarkable man, but lived in a remarkable era. His age 
 stood exactly between ancient and modern civilizations, the 
 old world and the new, paganism and Christianity. It was 
 distinguished by the noblest intellectual works of antiquity ; 
 it has become a proverb for culture and refinement, and 
 perhaps there is no recorded period wherein so much was 
 done destined to exercise so large and abiding an influence 
 on the education of the human race. It brought forth Livy, 
 Virgil, Horace, Ovid, TibuUus and Propertius ; but it was 
 marked by a still more fmportant event, and one that has 
 given colour to the whole subsequent history of a large 
 proportion of mankind, and is yet to produce greater and 
 larger results, the birth of Jesus Christ. 
 
 There are few characters ancient or modern which have 
 afforded so great a puzzle to historians and biographers, or 
 been the subject of so much discussion and difference of 
 opinion, as that of Augustus the first emperor of Rome. In 
 his own time his true character and disposition appear to 
 have been as little fathomable as they are to us now. He 
 was either one of the noblest and most disinterested of men 
 or the most consummate and successful of actors. He was 
 born in the year sixty-three before Christ : his father was 
 Octavius a senator, and his mother Accia the sister of 
 Julius Caesar. At the age of twenty he showed the greatest 
 tact and discrimination in affairs. He formed a triumvirate 
 with Antony and Lepidus, but soon found means to shake 
 off his companions in government and occupy the imperial 
 seat alone. This triumvirate had to answer for the blood 
 of three hundred senators and two hundred knights, and 
 the death of the orator Cicero, a professed friend of 
 Augustus ; acts of cruelty the odium of which clung to him 
 always afterwards. No sooner however was his rule estab- 
 lished than his policy became one of the utmost mildness 
 combined with the most perfect prudence. Indeed he might 
 
Chap. V. ROME, 113 
 
 be said to have made himself a lesson to all rulers : true 
 emperor by prescriptive right ; a man and a king, neither 
 forgetting the one nor confounding the other. He was 
 warrior, poet and historian. He was the model of a 
 dignified and cultivated gentleman. He was at once 
 courteous and manly, tender and courageous ; his tears 
 could flow for a friend and his hand be frankly extended to 
 an enemy. He appeared to be always the servant of his 
 country and his people, and to have their welfare at heart 
 more than his own. He never made unnecessary or unjust 
 war. The temple of Janus was closed thrice in his life-time 
 — only closed twice before in the whole history of the city. 
 He once thought of resigning the empire and restoring the 
 republic, and was only induced to retain his position on the 
 representation of the general welfare. Many wise and 
 beneficial measures marked his reign, and many improve- 
 ments were made in the city. He congratulated himself 
 that he had found Rome of brick and left it of marble. He 
 abhorred titles and avoided compliments. When he was 
 slandered he said, " I too can speak," and when his friends 
 would have had him take further notice of it, he replied that 
 ** words did no harm." He melted down the silver statues 
 set up to him, and made of them tripods for the temple of 
 Apollo. He had a particular aversion to the sumptuousness 
 of a palace, and always sought a less pretentious residence. 
 He voted in his tribe as one of the people, and appeared in 
 a court of justice as witness for an old soldier. He recom- 
 mended his adopted sons to the people if tJuy deserved it, 
 and though he did not forget his friends, he never bestowed 
 exclusive privileges on them as such. When he was styled 
 the Father of his country the tears came to his eyes, as he 
 said he wished for no other honour than its welfare and the 
 continuance of his people's affection. His house was frugal, 
 his table plain to himself, generous to his friends ; his habits 
 temperate. He educated personally and carefully the 
 children he had adopted, whom he always liked to have 
 with him and about him. Shortly before his death, when 
 
114 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 at the island of Capri, whither he had gone on account of 
 his health, he spent his visit in the holiday diversions of the 
 inhabitants, making scrambles for the boys, joking with the 
 people and entertaining them. Arrived at Nola near Naples 
 he was seized with his mortal illness. He called for a mirror, 
 adjusted his person and had his toilette made, asking the 
 bystanders if he had acted his part well in life, and if so, 
 requesting that they would applaud him. He died suddenly 
 in the arms of his wife Livia, begging her not to forget 
 their union, and bidding her a tender farewell.* His body 
 was carried in the night-time from town to town by the 
 several magistrates and officers of the places which it had to 
 traverse, reposing during the heat of the day within some 
 basilica or temple. It was met at Bovillae on the Appian Way 
 by the equestrian orders, who brought it to Rome by night. 
 The next morning the magistrates assembled, wearing robes 
 stripped of their purple trimmings ; Tiberius and Drusus, 
 foster-sons of the defunct emperor, being clothed in ash- 
 coloured garments : his will was then read. The corpse was 
 laid out and incense burnt before it. On the day of the 
 funeral those who were to take part in the ceremony 
 assembled in the morning. A designator distributed the 
 order of the procession ; and soon it began to move to the 
 sound of horns and flutes, sometimes wailing in the saddest 
 tones and then swelling into triumphant strains, as if to 
 bear away the spirit of the dead. After these followed 
 women chanting the praises of the departed and mourning 
 the sad chance that had robbed him of life ; then came 
 mimes or actors : one of them personating the dead emperor 
 in his manners and appearance ; then his statue robed 
 in a triumphal habit, carried by the prospective magistrates 
 of the following year, this statue being accompanied by 
 another all of gold, and after that a third in a triumphal 
 chariot ; these were followed by statues of all his ancestors 
 and relations, excepting Julius Caesar who had been deified ; 
 
 * Suetonius says his last words were, " Livia, conjugii nostri memor, vive 
 et vale." 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 
 
 115 
 
 then came the images of all the ancient Romans of note 
 from Romulus downwards ; then numberless freedmen 
 bearing tablets and other devices on which were inscribed 
 the name and deeds of the emperor, together with tokens 
 and emblems of the provinces he had subdued ; last of all 
 the body itself laid upon a bed of gold and ivory, trimmed 
 with purple, covered over with a black pall. On reaching 
 the Forum the corpse was set down, when Drusus read some 
 papers and Tiberius pronounced a funeral oration over it. 
 Then it was carried through the Triumphal gate followed by 
 the senators and knights with their wives, guards, soldiers, 
 in short, the whole inhabitants of Rome, to the bustum or 
 inclosed space for burning near the mausoleum in the 
 Campus Martins. Here a funeral pile was erected of fir- 
 wood hung with festoons, tapestry and costly draperies, 
 and planted about with cypress trees. Upon this the 
 body was placed together with the bed upon which it was 
 laid. The eyelids of the corpse were opened that the light 
 of heaven might be mirrored within them. A last kiss from 
 the nearest and dearest was imprinted on the pallid lips. 
 Three times the procession passed round the pile, throw- 
 ing various precious gifts upon it — oils, odours, and rich 
 ornaments ; the soldiers even casting upon it the rewards 
 they had obtained for distinguishing themselves in the 
 service of the state under his generalship. Many of the 
 spectators also threw upon the pile gums, frankincense and 
 valuable offerings of various kinds, together with locks of 
 their own hair. When this was done the centurions set fire 
 to it with averted faces amidst loud wailings and great cries 
 from the whole multitude. * As the flames rose an eagle 
 was seen to soar in the air, which was supposed to carry the 
 soul of the defunct up to heaven. 
 
 For five days the desolate Livia, wife of the emperor, 
 
 * This outcry was raised before lighting the pyre, in order to awaken 
 the corpse if it should be only in a trance. The elder Pliny tells a story of 
 a person waking up by the heat of the flames when the pyre had been 
 kindled, but too late to be saved. 
 
?i6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 clothed in white and accompanied by a number of knights, 
 watched the expiring flames and crumbling ashes. Then 
 what remained of the dead from the destructive fire was 
 carefully gathered, washed in wine and milk, then dried 
 upon a funeral cloth and finally placed with spices, odours 
 and rich gums, in an urn marked with a pious D.M. — thus 
 consigning him to the care of the deities of the dead — and 
 reverently carried to the mausoleum : after which the priest 
 sprinkled those present with pure water from a laurel 
 bough, and they retired leaving the ashes of the departed 
 to their repose with a mournful " Farewell ! " 
 
 The features, form, and bearing of Augustus are all 
 familiar to us through the sculptures still existing of him, 
 from the handsome and refined-looking boy to the com- 
 manding general and imperial rulen He had rather a low 
 forehead, his hair was straight, his nose aquiline, his eye 
 bright, his face and features bearing a look of breeding and 
 culture without any trace of malice, sensuousness, or craft 
 upon them, his figure erect and vigorous — a man looking 
 more like one fitted for command than obedience, but not 
 in anywise harsh or severe. 
 
 Tacitus says there were many and various opinions ex- 
 pressed of him after his death. Some extolled him 
 amongst the noblest and most disinterested of the race, 
 others attributed to him an underlying selfishness and politic 
 egotism as the main-spring of his life and actions. Perhaps 
 neither were quite right He may have begun to some 
 extent as a political egotist and ended with a large 
 patriotism and genuine love of his kind and country. It 
 would be scarcely a wonder if the best of the Romans 
 at that time should have grown up selfish and cruel, edu- 
 cated amidst so much selfishness and cruelty — at least until 
 reason and reflection had asserted their sway with sufficient 
 force to induce individual views and prescribe an indepen- 
 dent line of conduct. Augustus may have been schooled 
 into these as we are all of us schooled, through the training 
 of experience and the added thoughtfulness of years. 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 117 
 
 However this may have been, divine honours were decreed 
 to him at his death, the place where he died was conse- 
 crated and temples raised to his honour. His memory is 
 preserved to us even to this day in the names of one of the 
 months of our calendar, that of his birth. 
 
 Augustus, however, was not the first to be placed within 
 the mausoleum. Before him the remains of his young 
 nephew Marcellus, already mentioned, had been laid there, 
 the beloved of all Rome, whose elegy Virgil sings so nobly 
 in his ^neid. " My son," he makes ^neas say, " seek not to 
 learn your people's boundless woe : him fate shall but show 
 to the world, nor suffer him longer to exist. Too mighty 
 had the Roman race appeared to you, ye gods of heaven, 
 had these blessings become its own for ever . . . Give me 
 handfuls of lilies ; I would strew bright flowers and 
 plenteously : with these gifts at least honour the spirit of 
 my descendant, and discharge an unavailing duty."* 
 
 Here also was laid Octavia, his mother, the long-suffering 
 wife of the ignoble and irresolute Antony. Sister of 
 Augustus, her marriage with Antony had been but a political 
 step to assure good feeling between the emperor and his 
 colleague. At first Antony could not fail to be attracted 
 by so much beauty and virtue, but he soon forgot her 
 during his service in the East, exposed to the voluptuous 
 blandishments of the Egyptian Cleopatra. Whilst he was 
 giving himself up to a life of effeminating pleasure, she was 
 educating her children and step-children quietly at home. 
 When Antony was about to make an expedition against 
 Artavasdes, king of Armenia, she set off with troops and 
 money to assist him ; but on arriving at Athens he sent her 
 word to return : she did so, but sent forward the resources. 
 When the war was over, fascinated by the too potent charms 
 of Cleopatra, he sent his faithful wife a bill of divorce. This, 
 together with the death of the much-loved Marcellus, off- 
 
 * O nate, ingentem luctum ne quaere tuorum ; 
 Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata, neque ultra 
 Esse sinent, &c. Kn. vi. 869. 
 
 K 
 
i\8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 spring of a former marriage, preyed upon her mind. She 
 died. Her funeral was a public one. Her step-sons carried 
 her to her grave, and Augustus himself pronounced her 
 funeral oration. 
 
 Another illustrious dweller within the walls of this tomb 
 was Germanicus, the able and accomplished general and 
 fine-spirited gentleman. He was adopted by Tiberius, 
 fought much in the German wars, and was so popular that 
 he aroused the bitter envy of his foster-father. He was 
 distinguished by some of the noblest traits of antique times. 
 He commanded his soldiers faithfully, and knew how to 
 refuse an empire when it was offered to him ; preferring 
 death to treachery or a defalcation from his allegiance. He 
 died from the effects of poison, as was generally supposed, 
 secretly administered at Daphne near Antioch, in the thirty- 
 fourth year of his age. The news of his death was received 
 with the greatest consternation at Rome ; and although 
 Tiberius wished to curtail all demonstration and ceremonial 
 at his funeral, yet Tacitus tells us that " the day on which 
 his remains were deposited in the tomb, at one time ex- 
 hibited the silence of perfect desolation, at another the 
 uproar of vociferous lamentation ; the streets of the city 
 were crowded, one general blaze of torches glared through- 
 out the Campus Martins ; there the soldiers under arms, 
 the magistrates without the insignia of office, and the people 
 ranged according to their tribes, passionately exclaimed, 
 that the commonwealth was utterly lost, that henceforth 
 there remained no hope, so openly and so boldly that you 
 would have believed they had forgotten those who ruled 
 over them."* 
 
 Not less worthy of regret was the fate of his noble- 
 minded wife Agrippina. She was the very model of a 
 Roman matron ; fine of person, severe in morals and cha- 
 racter, ambitious, with a largeness of capacity that rendered 
 her equal to the highest emergencies. She was with her 
 husband in Germany during the campaign. In his absence 
 
 Translation in Bohn's series. 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 119 
 
 it was rumoured that the Roman army had been cut off in 
 the country of the enemy, and that a body of Germans 
 was approaching the bridge to invade Gaul. When it was 
 proposed to destroy this bridge, which would effectually 
 have cut off the retreat of the Romans, she manfully 
 withstood the cowardly proposal, herself assuming the 
 command of the forces, assisting the wounded and dis- 
 tributing clothes and other necessaries with her own hands. 
 Her only fault was that of being too much revered by the 
 Roman people, who called her the ornament of her country, 
 the representative of the race of Augustus, the unmatched 
 example of primitive virtue. For this she was banished by 
 the cruel command of Tiberius, to Pandataria, a small 
 barren island in the Gulf of Gaeta, where she lived miserably 
 for three years, and then died, as it was thought, of volun- 
 tary starvation ; her ashes being afterwards brought to 
 Rome, and deposited here. 
 
 Hither came also the younger Drusus, the son of Tiberius, 
 of whom little more need be said than that Tiberius himself 
 reproved him for his bloodthirsty cruelty to slaves in the 
 arena. He died from the effects of a slow poison adminis- 
 tered by an eunuch with the connivance of his wife, at the 
 instigation of Sejanus, a designing favourite of Tiberius, 
 who had been struck by Drusus. He had a great funeral. 
 All his ancestors, real or supposed, from iEneas down- 
 wards, were carried in effigy, in a long train. For all that, 
 there is no evidence that his death was a matter of much 
 regret to any one. 
 
 Here also were placed the remains of the monster 
 Tiberius. He was the successor to Augustus, by whom he 
 had been adopted and recommended. In early life he 
 distinguished himself as a brave and able general, and his 
 reign was begun with a mild and promising policy. Soon, 
 however, this was lost sight of Jealous, tyrannical, libi- 
 dinous and cruel, he finally retired to the island of Capri, 
 where his worst qualities developed themselves from a 
 shameful and unnatural licentiousness to the most horrible 
 
 K 2 
 
no THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 • 
 
 and revolting cruelty. The ruins of his palace are yet to 
 be seen on an elevated promontory of the island, and the 
 cliff is still shown whence his miserable victims were hurled 
 down to the beach below, from which the sound of the 
 falling waves is only heard faintly. Nothing was too mean 
 or ignoble for his baseness and brutality ; invention could 
 go no farther in abominable lewdness and ferocity. His 
 cruelties and vices have become a proverb ; they need not 
 be dwelt on here. Suetonius leaves no part of his character 
 and none of his ill-doings undescribed. He says that when 
 a youth one of his masters used to tell him he was com- 
 posed of mire mixed with blood. His evil nature never de- 
 serted him. He is described as tall, burly and very strong ; 
 so strong that he could wound with a flip, and bore an apple 
 with his finger. He had a fair complexion, large eyes, and 
 long hair behind. He walked stiffly and uprightly, spoke 
 very slowly, and with a slight gesticulation of his fingers. 
 There must have been something very repulsive in the 
 latter characteristic, since it was remarked upon and disliked 
 by the senate and people whilst Augustus was yet alive. 
 Augustus, however, excused him, by saying it was his 
 natural manner, and meant no harm. He was not without 
 literary power. He wrote both in his own tongue and in 
 Greek ; devoting a certain portion of his time to study. 
 He died at Misenum in the Christian year thirty-seven, and 
 the seventy-eighth of his age, after a reign of a little more 
 than twenty-two years and a half When his remains 
 were brought to Rome, the people cried out that he should 
 be thrown into the Tiber, praying heaven and earth that he 
 might have no repose for his wickedness. His body, how- 
 ever, underwent the usual rite, and he was placed in the 
 Augustan tomb. 
 
 Another iniquitous tyrant entered these precincts in the 
 person of Caius, called Caligula. He was the son of Ger- 
 manicus. The most charitable supposition is that a severe 
 illness had left him no longer responsible for his actions and 
 behaviour. Nothing was too enormous for him to perpetrate 
 
Chap. V. ROME, 121 
 
 Once during a fight of wild beasts, when there were no more 
 criminals to be sacrificed, he ordered people taken at random 
 from amongst the spectators, first to have their tongues cut 
 out, and then to be cast into the arena. He had persons 
 tortured for his amusement during meals. At a horse-race, 
 when the people were disposed to favour a competitor more 
 than himself, he is said to have wished that they had all 
 one head, that he might strike it off at a blow. He threw 
 money mixed with iron spikes amongst the populace, by 
 means of which many were wounded, and some killed. He 
 was continually impersonating some fanciful character; 
 sometimes appearing as Hercules, Juno, Diana, Venus, 
 Bacchus or Neptune, as suited the madne.ss of the moment. 
 But perhaps his crowning folly and insolence was that of 
 building a temple to himself, and furnishing it with his own 
 image. At last one of his servants named Chaerea put an 
 end to his miserable life, after he had reigned nearly four 
 years, in the forty-first year of the Christian era. 
 
 Next came the weak and characterless emperor Claudius, 
 who nevertheless left some great works behind him. The 
 aqueduct built in his reign still strides in broken but ma- 
 jestic arches across the Campagna of Rome, and traces of 
 his harbour at Ostia are still visible. 
 
 Many others helped to fill the walls of this huge sepulchre. 
 The last placed within it was Nerva. He was emperor 
 towards the end of the first Christian century. Dion 
 Cassius gives some fine characteristics of him. On as- 
 suming the government he took an oath never to put a 
 senator to death, and kept it, even to those who had con- 
 spired against his life. When the conspiracy of Calpurnius 
 Crassus came to his ears, he sent some well-sharpened 
 daggers to be placed near him, at the public shows, that he 
 might see he had no fear of him. The captain of his guard 
 made an insurrection amongst those under his command in 
 order to have certain persons put to death. Nerva offered 
 his own head ; but would not comply with their demand. 
 Seeing that his age~he was sixty-five — decreased the 
 
122 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V 
 
 respect due to his function as emperor, he ascended the 
 Capitol, proclaiming that, for the good of the empire, he 
 appointed Trajan his successor. He reigned somewhat 
 more than four years. At his death he was carried to the 
 pile on the shoulders of senators in the same manner as 
 Augustus had been. 
 
 From the time of Nerva the mausoleum remained closed 
 until it was violated by Alaric at the Gothic invasion, in 
 the hopes of finding a treasure there. In the thirteenth 
 century it became a fortress of the Colonna family during 
 the civil factions by which Rome was torn at that time. 
 The whole internal portion of it was subsequently destroyed 
 by the people, with the exception of some narrow chambers 
 which still remain ; one of them is supposed to belong to a 
 corridor leading to the central hall where the ashes of 
 Augustus were placed. There are also still evidences of 
 abutting halls on the ground-floor. 
 
 One more episode in its history should not be forgotten. 
 It is the last tragical act in the career of the spirited 
 reformer Rienzo. After he had been slain and his headless 
 corpse dragged about the streets and then hung from a 
 balcony for two days and a night, pelted w^ith stones and 
 receiving every kind of indignity, it was taken down and 
 dragged to this tomb, where the magistrates assembled, 
 and a great concourse of people. Here it was placed 
 on a huge pile which was set on fire. His corpulence 
 of person, says his biographer, caused him to burn very 
 readily, so that he was soon entirely consumed. Thus 
 perished the great champion of liberty and justice, sacrificed 
 by the ignorance and the cruelty of the people whom he had 
 attempted to serve, who could make no allowance in the 
 splendour of the hero for the imperfections and weaknesses 
 of the man. 
 
 After the mausoleum had been abandoned by the Colonna, 
 it became successively a fortress, a garden, and a theatre. 
 It is used in the latter capacity still. On its summit a 
 stage is constructed at one side ; stone seats pass round the 
 
Chap. V. ROME. 123 
 
 arena, the central space being filled with fashionable crowds 
 on the summer afternoons who assemble to witness the open 
 air performance of Alfieri or Goldoni, or to laugh at the last 
 new farce imported from the French. Sometimes it is used 
 as an amphitheatre for equestrian performances. What a 
 moral does it furnish ! Yet how few- of the spectators on 
 such occasions bestow so much as a thought on the puissant 
 dust which once reposed beneath and perhaps still moulders 
 into nothingness amongst the broken ruins ! As I have sat 
 here sometimes in the warm summer evening when the 
 sunlight has died on the walls, and the first stars begun to 
 look forth from the transparent sky, it has seemed as if the 
 spirits of the old heroes have crept once more from their 
 hiding places. I have seen the imperial Augustus gather 
 up his robes in the senate, and the youthful Marcellus 
 appear — still living in his noble epitaph. I have seen the 
 dignified and matronly Agrippina standing before me in 
 all the commanding grace of womanhood. Britannicus, the 
 innocent victim of the heartless Nero, has looked upon me 
 with mournful eyes ; and Tiberius with his sinister gestures 
 and cold tones filled me with a creeping horror. Caligula, 
 Antonia, Claudius, Nerva, have all appeared before me, 
 whilst the mimic stage and its counterfeit actors, together 
 with the whole audience, have vanished, giving place to a 
 mightier drama with the races of all time as the wondering 
 spectators. 
 
 Leaving the ancient mausoleum, and passing between 
 open banks, we approach the confines of the city. Over 
 the meadows to the left the vast range of the Vatican is 
 exposed in all its length, flanked at one end by the facade 
 and dome of St. Peter's, perhaps the most imposing of all 
 the views obtained of it. 
 
 In order to take our farewell of the city, I will ask my 
 readers to accompany me for an evening stroll to the top 
 of the neighbouring Pincian hill, the last we see of Rome 
 on this side of it. Crossing the Piazza del Popolo we climb 
 by steps and shady walks to its lofty summit. The sweet 
 
124 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. V. 
 
 spring has filled the gardens with flowers. Already the 
 white almond blossoms have fallen, but the billowy acacias 
 of the Villa Borghese are crested with odorous wreaths of 
 snowy foam. Fountains toss up their crystal columns from 
 basins of marble or artificial rock-work, murmuring plea- 
 santly. The sun, not far from his setting, pours a golden 
 flood of light over temple and turret and house-top. Below 
 lies the Piazza del Popolo, marked by all varieties of cha- 
 racter and calling ; now we see a number of ecclesiastical 
 students in long dark skirts, walking in couples, then a file 
 of soldiers ; there a group of countrymen with shaggy goat- 
 skins covering their thighs, reminding one of the fabled 
 satyrs of old, carry large cakes of bread slung on a cord 
 over their shoulders ; there a wine-cart goes with its jingling 
 bells and tent-like covering for the driver, by whose side a 
 little dog barks vociferously ; now a woman lingers by the 
 central fountain, leaning on an elegantly-shaped copper 
 pitcher, and now a sombre procession of monks passes by, 
 each bearing a lighted candle, and chanting the mournful 
 office for the dead. 
 
 In the meantime the sun has set. The gay crowds ot 
 fashion and pleasure have departed. The city lies steeped 
 in sober grey. Beyond the roofs of the houses and the 
 hidden river a long plain sweeps to the foot of the Vatican 
 and the mighty dome of St. Peter's, which stands in aerial 
 tones against the skirts of the passing day, supported by 
 the serrated line of the Janiculum on the one side, and the 
 plumed heights of Monte Mario on the other. The golden 
 light has faded ; only a deep glow of orange fills the 
 horizon. The sky at the zenith begins to assume a deep 
 purple. The crescent moon increases in distinctness : and 
 now begins the solemn pageantry of the night. The air 
 seems to grow in clearness. Glassy abysses are opened, 
 depth beyond depth, until it would seem that the very 
 empyrean must become visible. A few curling clouds lie 
 loosely about the horizon. The evening star burns brightly 
 above it. Dimness creeps amongst the trees. The flutter- 
 
Chap. V. 
 
 ROME. 
 
 125 
 
 ing bat flits hither and thither as if uncertain of his course. 
 The owl beats the air, giving forth his sohtary cry. The 
 nightingale begins to sing with a low whisper, growing 
 louder and louder until the thickets overflow with song. 
 The beetle booms by with a surly hum ; night moths 
 flutter ; flowers close ; stars awake one by one till the 
 whole heavens are robed in sparkling glory. Lights begin 
 to sprinkle the streets and houses. Hark ! that was the 
 first stroke of the hour of Ave Maria. For a few moments 
 the air seems alive with the sound of bells : then all is still. 
 Moment by moment the heavens grow more tenderly 
 beautiful. The rose of day has turned into the lily of night ; 
 who shall say which is the fairest } 
 
 IHK PINCIO, FROM THE VILLA lORGHESE. 
 
126 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 
 
 BEFORE leaving Rome I should like to take my reader 
 farther into it. I should like to go with him through 
 its various sculpture and picture galleries. I should like to 
 survey its ancient ruins, quaint gardens and old world 
 nooks in his company. I should like to lead him away 
 from the tide of tourists and casual visitors into the delight- 
 ful semi-bohemian artist life of some of its more permanent 
 
 residents : 
 
 A world of beauty 
 Where love moves ever hand in hand with duty; 
 And life, a long aspiring pilgrimage, 
 Makes labour but a pastime of delight.* 
 
 But this the limits of my prescribed course forbid. We 
 must leave its dear old walls for " fresh fields and pastures 
 new." 
 
 I was once more indebted to Mr. Welby for the oppor- 
 tunity of exploring the navigable portion of the Tiber above 
 Rome. One of his steamers leaves the Ripetta (the smaller 
 quay at the northern end of the city) periodically for the 
 purpose of towing up the charcoal and other barges, which, 
 when laden, return with the stream. He was kind enough 
 not only to permit Mr. Hemans and myself to make use of 
 his steamer, but took pains to have accommodation specially 
 prepared for us, as we should have to spend a night on board ; 
 so that when we went early one brilliant morning with rugs, 
 
 * ' My Beautiful Lady,' by T. Woolner. 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^E. 127 
 
 wine, provisions, etc., expecting nothing more than a bed of 
 boards to lie upon, with no particular convenience of any 
 sort, we were agreeably surprised to find a commodious and 
 comfortable cabin at our disposal, with seats and sofas in 
 it. The proposed voyage only extended to a distance of 
 about thirty-five miles, but as this would take the whole of 
 the day, heading the stream and towing a number of large 
 hulks in our wake, on reaching the highest point attainable 
 the vessel had to be moored for the night, dropping down 
 to Rome again the next morning. In describing the various 
 points and places of interest which the Tiber passes I shall 
 take them in this upward journey ; but the reader must be 
 aware that they were each made the object of a special 
 journey (some more than one) from Rome. 
 
 Of course there was the usual number of grown men with 
 a good sprinkling of young fry on board the vessel, who, if 
 they did no more, enjoyed the trip very much, to judge by 
 their gambols alternating with long dozes in shady corners, 
 besides contributing to keep up the spirits of the ship's 
 company by a continual flow of merriment and good- 
 humour. Our departure was a very animated one. The 
 sun shone brilliantly ; the river sparkled as if smiling beneath 
 the prow of the vessel ; the old river had put off every for- 
 bidding scowl, and looked pleasantly under the blue sky. 
 
 No sooner is the boundary wall of the city passed than 
 the houses at once cease to occupy the banks, which are left 
 to grazing sheep and the little birds that sing amongst the 
 bushes. There is, however, a single villa on the left, said to 
 have been once inhabited by Claude the landscape painter. 
 Nowhere are the sunsets seen to finer effect. He may well 
 have watched them here until they suffused his soul with 
 their glory, and then flung them on to his canvas with the 
 glow of an inspiration. 
 
 Just opposite to this place, on the other side of the river, 
 with the old Via Flaminia running between, is Monte 
 Parioli, a tufa-formed elevation, nowise famous or notable 
 excepting for a certain picturesqueness which it bears. 
 
12$ THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. VI. 
 
 About a mile from Rome Monte Mario is reached, which 
 may be considered the most northerly abutment of the 
 Janiculan range. Its sides are varied by alternate sterility 
 and culture ; upon its top are gardens, groves of cypresses, 
 two or three villas, and one tall expansive stone-pine, which 
 is a beacon to the country round. The views of the river 
 as seen from its sides and summit, in its numerous windings 
 along the Campagna, are very charming. Here resided 
 Julius Martialis, the friend of the Latin epigrammatist 
 Martial, the latter of whom has left us one of the most 
 charming descriptions in literature of the view obtained 
 from its summit. It is as follows : 
 
 " On the long ridge of the Janiculan hill lie the few acres 
 belonging to Julius Martialis ; land more blest than the 
 gardens of the Hesperides. Secluded retreats are spread over 
 the hills ; and the smooth summit, with gentle undulations, 
 enjoys a cloudless sky, and while a mist covers the hollow 
 valley, shines conspicuous in a light all its own. The grace- 
 ful turrets of a lofty villa rise gently towards the stars. 
 Hence you may see the seven hills, rulers of the world, and 
 contemplate the whole extent of Rome, as well as the 
 heights of Alba and Tusculum, and every cool retreat that 
 lies in the suburbs, with old Fidenae and little Rubra, and 
 the fruit-bearing grove of Anna Perenna, which delights in 
 virgin's blood. There may be seen the traveller on the 
 Flaminian and Salarian roads, while his carriage is unheard, 
 so that its wheels are no interruption to gentle sleep : 
 neither is it broken by the cry of the boatswain, or the 
 noise of hawsers, although the Milvian bridge is near, and 
 ships are seen gliding swiftly along the sacred Tiber. This 
 country box, but which ought rather to be called mansion, 
 is rendered additionally agreeable by the welcome of its 
 owner ; you would imagine it to be your own ; so ungrudg- 
 ingly, so liberally is it thrown open to you, and with such 
 refined hospitality. You would deem it the pious abode of 
 Alcinous, or of Molorchus recently made rich. You, now, 
 who think all these attractions insignificant, cultivate with 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FID EN ^. 129 
 
 a hundred spades cool Tivoli or Praeneste, and give the 
 slopes of Setia to one single husbandman ; whilst I, for my 
 part, prefer to all your possessions the few acres of Julius 
 Martialis."* 
 
 This hill used to be called the Clivus Cinnae. Dante 
 alludes to it by the name of Montemaio. It was changed 
 to Mario, after Mario Mellini, to whom it belonged in the 
 latter part of the sixteenth century. It is interesting to 
 geologists in that it contains quantities of marine shells of 
 the pliocene period ; the beds in which these are found 
 are superimposed volcanic strata. 
 
 Descending the slopes towards the Ponte Molle is the 
 Villa Madama, a somewhat desolate-looking tenement, 
 which takes its name from Margaret of Austria, natural 
 daughter of Charles the Fifth, who married into the Medici 
 family, for one of whom it was built. It is decorated with 
 frescoes by Giulio Romano and Giovanni da Udine. 
 
 The plain beneath is used as a military exercising ground. 
 It was here that the magnanimous and noble-minded 
 Arnoldo da Brescia was made the martyr to a wider sense 
 of freedom and a larger disinterestedness than his age could 
 understand or appreciate. He was first hanged, and then 
 his body was burnt. His ashes, thrown into the Tiber, have 
 long sown themselves on other shores, bringing forth abun- 
 dant increase. Let the reader, if he will, turn to the life and 
 death of this self-devoted hero ; but here we will rather 
 choose to draw the veil before a painful and disgraceful 
 tragedy, too sickening in its details for our summer's holiday. 
 
 It is supposed that the temple of Anna Perenna must 
 have stood near here, whose festival is so graphically 
 described by Ovid. 
 
 " On the Ides " of March, he says, " is the mirthful festival 
 
 * Juli jugera pauca Martialis, 
 Hortis Hesperidum beatiora, 
 Longo Janiculi jugo recumbunt, &c. 
 
 Ep. iv. 64. 
 Translation in Bohn's Library. 
 
ISO THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. VI. 
 
 of Anna Perenna, not far from thy banks, thou Tiber that 
 flowest from afar. The common people assemble and 
 carouse, scattered In every quarter on the green grass ; each 
 with his sweetheart is there reclining. Some spend their time 
 in the open air, some pitch their tents ; by some a leafy bower 
 is formed of branches. Some when they have fixed up reeds 
 there in the stead of solid columns, place over them gar- 
 ments spread out. Yet with the sun and wine do they wax 
 warm ; they pray for years as many in number as the cups 
 they quaff, and reckon on as they drink. There you will 
 meet with the man who can drink off the years of Nestor ; 
 the woman who becomiCS as old as the Sybil by the number 
 of her cups. There, too, they sing whatever snatches they 
 have picked up at the theatres and move their pliant arms in 
 time to their words. And now having laid aside the bowl, 
 they trip the uncouth dance, and many a gaily-dressed 
 wench skips about with her locks flowing. When they 
 return, they stagger and are a gazing sight for the mob, and 
 the multitude that meets them pronounces them to be 
 glorious souls. I myself met them lately ; the procession 
 seemed to me one that was worthy to be mentioned again.* 
 A drunken old hag was dragging after her a drunken old 
 man."* 
 
 Here the ancient Pons Milvius (now Ponte Molle) crosses 
 the river. A part of it dates from the beginning of the 
 second century ; though it has suffered many reverses since 
 that time. The ambassadors of the Allobroges who were 
 concerned in the Catiline conspiracy were here arrested by 
 the order of Cicero. It was the scene of some of the wild 
 nocturnal orgies of Nero mentioned by Tacitus ; and it 
 was from its parapet that the emperor Maxentius lost his 
 life when fleeing from the battle of the Saxa Rubra. 
 Modern architecture has not done much to improve it as 
 far as appearance goes. It is disfigured by an unsightly 
 tower built at one end of it, and some very bad statuary. 
 
 After passing Ponte Molle the Campagna is fairly entered 
 * Fas. iii. 523. 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 131 
 
 upon — that vast tract of almost desert ground that stretches 
 for twenty miles on every side of Rome. Beautiful as it is 
 in the morning hours, when the thin mist lingers in its hol- 
 low places and the lark pours forth his rapid notes in the 
 air, it is, perhaps, still more impressive clothed in the sombre 
 hues of the late evening, when the golden sunshine has died 
 from the broken masonry which here and there rises from its 
 sod, and the great mounds loom out and stretch from valley 
 to valley like huge hillocks piled upon the graves of buried 
 giants, and the grey ruins stand like tombstones to mark 
 the places where they lie. * It is then that the voices of the 
 past speak loudest from its interminable undulations, and 
 the solitude becomes peopled with the shadowy forms of 
 those who once turned its desolate bluffs and headlands 
 into the seats of human industry, interest and ambition. 
 
 As the vessel slowly toiled up the stream I noticed par- 
 ticularly what I had often observed before, that there was a 
 subtlety and peculiarity in the surface colour of the waters 
 of the Tiber which I never saw on any other stream. The 
 blue of the sky reflected in the tawny hue of the eddying 
 water gives an Indefinite shimmer, so subtle and delicate, 
 and so difficult to analyse, as almost to defy the skill of the 
 artist in its reproduction. Perhaps this is the reason why 
 one sees it so seldom painted well, or even at all.* To-day 
 it was particularly elusive, tender and bright, as it twirled 
 itself into tiny eddies running into each other with a thou- 
 sand sparkling dimples, and coursing each other down stream 
 as if in playful rejoicing at the fair morning and the clear 
 sunshine which pervaded the world from earth to sky. The 
 gossamer spider, nothing daunted, crossed the stream on his 
 frail support, and the butterfly flitted from one bank to the 
 other, whilst numerous birds enlivened our way with various 
 songs ; the thrush, the nightingale, and, above our heads, 
 the soaring lark. 
 
 After passing some foliage-covered cliffs on the right 
 
 * Mr. J. C. Moore, in some of his water-colour drawings, appears to 
 me to have given some of the most satisfactory renderings of it. 
 
132 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 and a picturesque round tower on the left, a bend of the 
 river brings us to Acqua Cetosa, some famous mineral 
 springs which have been in use since the times of the 
 ancient Romans ; and immediately afterwards to a long, 
 elevated mound with a level summit, sloping upwards from 
 green pasture-grounds. Although there is not a vestige 
 of ruin upon it, yet a little observation renders it apparent 
 that its form has been modified by artificial means. It was 
 here that the ancient Sabine city, " towered Antemnse," once 
 stood, sung by Virgil, and stated by old historians to have 
 been no inconsiderable rival of early Rome. Its site is 
 unmistakably identified by ancient descriptions, which give 
 it as lying exactly between the junction of the Anio with 
 the Tiber. 
 
 It was from this city, together with those of Caenina 
 and Crustumerium, that Rome was partly populated, for 
 Romulus, finding his newly-founded colony to consist of 
 little more than a band of warriors, sent embassies to the 
 neighbouring Sabine cities with proposals for intermarriage, 
 which were one and all refused. Upon this Romulus, 
 smothering his indignation, invited the Sabines from these 
 towns to witness some athletic games in Rome. They 
 came, bringing with them their wives and daughters. They 
 were hospitably entertained by the Romans, who, at the 
 same time, took care to show them all their advantages 
 of position, together with the fortresses they had built. 
 Whilst the spectacle was going forward, by a preconcerted 
 plan, a number of armed Roman youths rushed forwards, 
 and seizing as many of the younger women as they 
 could, carried them off by force. In vain the Antemnates 
 inveighed against this inhospitable outrage, calling upon 
 their gods for vengeance. Whilst the Sabines put on 
 mourning and tried to rouse the neighbouring states to 
 revenge, Romulus endeavoured to excuse his conduct, and 
 appealed to the w^omen taken, who soon began to form 
 home ties and attachments to their husbands which they 
 were not desirous of severing. At last, after numerous 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 
 
 f33 
 
 skirmishes, Romulus overtook their army on a foraging 
 excursion, completely routed them, and gained possession of 
 their city. At the entreaty of Hersilia his spouse, who had 
 been one of the previously captured women, he spared 
 them on condition that Antemnae should become a colony 
 of Rome : such of the inhabitants as chose to leave it 
 being allowed to do so, and to reside in Rome with the 
 privilege of citizenship, their lands and possessions being 
 retained to them. Dionysius says that three thousand 
 men with their wives and families availed themselves of 
 these conditions. The same historian gives a fine descrip- 
 tion of the Triumph of the conqueror on this occasion, who 
 followed the procession of spoils and booty, clad in a purple 
 robe and crowned with laurel, in a chariot drawn by four 
 horses, his army following, infantry and cavalry ranged in 
 their several divisions, singing hymns to the gods and 
 celebrating their General in extemporary verses. They 
 were met by all the inhabitants of the city, who caressed 
 and praised them : and on entering they found tables 
 spread with viands and bowls of wine, so that each might 
 eat and drink what he chose. This was the first Triumph 
 of all her many magnificent ones that Rome ever saw. 
 
 The summit of this table-land commands fine views of 
 the Campagna on all sides. There are still traces of the 
 ancient roads which must have led to the gate of the city. 
 Archaeologists differ as to the position which the arx or 
 citadel may have occupied. The angle at the junction of 
 the rivers is perhaps the strongest point, but there is a 
 higher elevation at the other side. Strabo mentions it with 
 some others as having become an insignificant village. 
 There is not so much as a stone of the ancient city left. 
 Probably everything serving as building material may have 
 been long since carried away to Rome. 
 
 In the time of Tarquin the combined Sabines and Etrus- 
 cans encamped at the confluence of the rivers, throwing 
 a wooden bridge across the Tiber. Tarquin, by means of 
 boats filled with burning combustibles sent down the Anio, 
 
 L 
 
134 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 destroyed the bridge, thus being able to attack the dis- 
 jointed armies severally. The Gauls encamped here ; 
 perhaps, also, Hannibal when he approached the Porta 
 Colllna. We are informed that Antemnae was so called 
 because it was " ante amnem posita," situated on the river. 
 
 Not to diverge too far from the main course of our 
 journey, I shall here ask my readers to leave the Tiber 
 for a little while to take a cursory view of the Anio, which 
 at this spot empties itself into the larger stream. It is 
 marked by a little Island, round which the clear cool waters 
 flow almost hidden in the thick bushes which clothe its 
 banks. 
 
 Following its course a little way upwards, beyond the 
 hill of Antemnae is the Ponte Salaro, the ancient Pons 
 Salarus, the tufa piers of which are probably of the earliest 
 period of Roman construction — must, indeed, be coeval with 
 the Via Salara which crosses it. Upon these piers the 
 bridge was subsequently rebuilt by Narses, after having 
 been partly destroyed by the Goths in the sixth century. 
 The more ancient structure was the site of a memorable 
 event in Roman history, before narrating which it is neces- 
 sary to go back a little. 
 
 By one of the oldest laws of primitive Rome it was 
 decreed that on the ides of September a nail should be 
 annually driven by the supreme officer of the city into a 
 certain part of the temple of Jupiter : a custom probably 
 arising before the use of writing became general, for the 
 purpose of marking the lapse of time. So important was 
 this ceremony considered in after-times that a dictator 
 was elected for the special purpose of fulfilling It. To this 
 function one Lucius Manllus was appointed. In the year of 
 Rome three hundred and ninety-two, who, extending the 
 privileges of the office, sought to intermeddle with more 
 weighty matters of state, assuming the generalship of the 
 army, and enforcing large levies from the youth of the city 
 with the greatest cruelty and severity. Of a violent temper 
 and inordinate ambition, he took the name of Imperiosus, 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENA£. 135 
 
 and went so far as to banish his own son from the city, 
 who, though a youth of good solid power, had not the gift 
 of oratory — who was, in fact, a man of deeds not words, 
 as will presently appear. For this sole crime his father 
 condemned him to follow a life of rustic labour, blunting by 
 his brutality whatever fine feelings the youth might have 
 possessed. That he was gifted richly enough in this respect 
 the following circumstance will show. For his misuse of 
 power and unnatural conduct towards his son, Manlius, 
 after having first provoked the people until a threatened 
 insurrection compelled him to lay down the dictatorship 
 before the proper term had expired, was arraigned before 
 the senate amidst much popular indignation by the tribune 
 of the commons, Marcus Pomponius. When this came to 
 the -ears of Titus the son of Manlius, furnishing himself with 
 a knife, he went to the house of the tribune, and professing 
 to have business of importance with him, was announced 
 into his presence and all others bidden to withdraw. Ap- 
 proaching the couch on which Pomponius lay, he held the 
 knife over him and threatened to kill him on the spot if he 
 did not at once solemnly swear to abandon the prosecution 
 of his father, which he was accordingly obliged to do. 
 When this circumstance became reported abroad, as it 
 presently did, the accusation against tiis father was not 
 only allowed to drop, but Titus himself elected a tribune of 
 the soldiers without any other merit than his blunt, straight- 
 forward bravery and powerful physique, an office which 
 he fulfilled so well that he became afterwards dictator. 
 
 Shortly after this the Gauls approached Rome, encamp- 
 ing just on the other side of the Salarian bridge from the 
 city, the Romans in a large army coming forth to meet 
 them. Both sides strove to make themselves master of 
 the bridge, and several skirmishes were fought without 
 being decisive. At last a Gaul of gigantic frame and 
 stature came forth and challenged the Romans to meet 
 him in single combat with the best man they had in the 
 army. For some time no one answered the challenge ; but 
 
 L 2 
 
136 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 after a while Titus Manlius offered to fight the Gallic 
 champion with the permission of the dictator. Being pro- 
 perly accoutred and stepping on to the bridge, both armies 
 stood by to watch the issue of the combat, the Gaul re- 
 garding Titus with the greatest contempt. After receiving 
 a tremendous blow on his armour from the sword of the 
 Gaul, Titus immediately closed with him, and after a short 
 struggle pierced him several times in the lower part of his 
 body, so that he died. When he was dead Titus did not 
 despoil or otherwise maltreat the corpse of his fallen foe, 
 as was usual, but simply removed from his neck a tore, or 
 ornament of twisted gold, which he fixed about his own ; 
 from which circumstance he subsequently obtained the 
 name of Torquatus, which remained as the surname of his 
 family always afterwards. So decisive was the death of 
 their leader considered, that the Gallic army decamped 
 hastily the same night, leaving the Romans to return un- 
 molested to the city. 
 
 Somewhat farther up the stream is the Ponte Nomentano, 
 built by Narses to replace a more ancient one built by 
 Totila. It is covered with a picturesque castellated struc- 
 ture added in the eighth century, and subsequently modi- 
 fied. Near this bridge are the ruins of two large tombs of 
 unknown origin, and a little beyond a large mound or hill, 
 a spot particularly pointed out by Livy as the Mons Sacer, 
 or Sacred Hill of the ancient Romans, which obtained its 
 name in a memorable manner. 
 
 After the expulsion of the Tarquins from Rome the 
 condition of the people under the nobles became an op- 
 pressed and suffering one. Compelled to borrow money 
 from the patricians in order to till their land and prosecute 
 their business, after the drain on their purses and loss of 
 time caused by the subsequent wars, they were treated with 
 the utmost rigour and harshness in case of failure to meet 
 their engagements from whatever cause — so severely, in- 
 deed, as not only to be frequently cast into prison on the 
 hard fare of bread and water, but also they were liable to 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FID EN AH. 137 
 
 be sold into slavery, or even to lose their lives ; or, if there 
 were several creditors, the body of the debtor might be 
 hewn into pieces and distributed amongst them. 
 
 One day there appeared in the Forum an emaciated old 
 man of squalid appearance, torn with stripes, clothed in 
 rags and laden with chains. He lifted up his manacled 
 hands and told the people the sad story of his woes. He 
 told them how the enemy had destroyed his house and 
 robbed him of his property, how he had been compelled 
 to borrow money of one of the patricians, how misfortune 
 had prevented him from repaying it, and how he had been 
 cast into prison, scourged and laden with those chains. 
 The appeal was an irresistible one ; menacing murmurs 
 arose amongst the people, the low thunders of a coming 
 storm, and shortly afterwards, when Rome was invaded 
 by the Volscian foe, the people in answer to the levy pro- 
 claimed by the consuls, one and all refused to be enrolled 
 unless there was a suspension and alteration of the hard laws 
 between debtor and creditor. On promises being made 
 the people were induced to serve ; but no sooner were the 
 wars over than the promises were forgotten, matters remain- 
 ing as they were before. Precisely the same thing took 
 place again shortly afterwards, similar promises being made 
 and as little regarded : but this time the issue was more 
 decided. Whilst still under arms the people elected Junius 
 Brutus and Sicinius Bellutus as their leaders and marched 
 off to this hill, determined to set up a rival colony of their 
 own away from the ancient city. In vain they were be- 
 sought to return ; the people, already too much deceived, 
 would listen to no proposals. It was in this state of matters 
 that an old man named Menenius addressed the peaple 
 with the fable of the Belly and the Members. "It hap- 
 pened," he said, '' in ancient times when each part of the 
 body was endowed with language and a will of its own, 
 that the various members of the body rebelled against 
 the condition of the belly, which they said did no .service 
 for the commonwealth, but, having its needs all supplied, 
 
138 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 was borne about and attended by the members without 
 rendering any benefit in return. Accordingly they con- 
 spired against it : the hands that they would not feed it, 
 the mouth that it would not receive its food, and the legs 
 that they would not bear it. Whilst thus attempting to 
 subdue the body, however, it was found that there was no 
 part of the state which did not suffer in consequence — that 
 the whole system, in fact, was reduced to emaciation and 
 sickness. It was thus found that the belly was by no means 
 useless ; and only on the members returning to their several 
 functions was the commonwealth restored to health and 
 happiness." Impressed with this fable, the application of 
 which to their own circumstances was obvious, at last they 
 agreed to return to Rome on obtaining certain terms ; as 
 that the debtors who could not pay should have their debts 
 cancelled, that those who had been enslaved on account of 
 their debts should be set at liberty, and that two of their 
 own body should be appointed to watch over their interests. 
 
 On the spot where this treaty was made an altar was 
 built to Jupiter, the Causer and Banisher of Fear ; since 
 the plebeians had retired thither in fear and returned in 
 safety. The place was called Mons Sacer, or the Sacred 
 Hill for ever afterwards, and the laws by which the people's 
 tribunate was secured were called Leges Sacratae, the 
 Sacred Laws, which might be said to constitute the Magna 
 Charta of Rome. 
 
 Following the course of the stream still onwards is 
 Cervara, where there are immense tufa-quarries cut under- 
 ground. These quarries are spoken of by Strabo. The 
 stone has been cut out, forming large chambers and halls, 
 square columns having been left here and there to support 
 the roof, with apertures at intervals to admit the light. 
 The creeping plants which hang through these apertures, 
 the long ranges of columns, the irregular distribution of the 
 chambers, and the mysterious gloom with which they are 
 pervaded, produce a singularly solemn and picturesque 
 effect. Their very stillness summons to the eye of fancy 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENyE. 139 
 
 hundreds of busy workmen occupied in removing the stone 
 — slaves under the cruel lash of the overseer falling at their 
 toil ; the noise, the bustle, the activity, both within and 
 without, as the distant aqueduct crawls slowly, arch by 
 arch, to its destination, or the temple or palace grows up 
 day by day within the walls of the city. Not very distant 
 from the river on the right is the site of the classic city 
 of Collatia, an ancient Alban colony founded by Latinus 
 Silvius, where the virtuous Lucretia lived, and the tragical 
 occurrence took place which drove the Tarquins from 
 Rome and resulted in the establishment of a republic. 
 A little more removed from the river in the same direction 
 is the place where the ancient Volscian city Gabii stood, 
 the school of Romulus and Remus. Remains of the 
 temple of Juno mentioned by Virgil are still to be seen. 
 The lake was drained off some years ago. Farther on, a 
 somewhat turbid stream of a strong odour pours its waters 
 into the river. This flows from some sulphur springs 
 situated about a mile to the north of the stream. They 
 were the ancient Aquae Albulae, and are frequently men- 
 tioned by classical writers. They now consist for the most 
 part of shallow pools overgrown with reeds and rushes 
 encrusted by petrifactions. Some grey and broken walls 
 still stand, which once formed baths for the use of the 
 waters. They were frequented by Augustus and enlarged 
 by Zenobia. It was to this place that Virgil makes King 
 Latinus go in order to consult the oracle of Faunus, which 
 once stood here, concerning some prodigies which had oc- 
 curred foretelling the coming of ^neas. *' These prodigies," 
 says Virgil, "disturbed the king, and so he goes to the 
 oracle of Faunus, his prophetic sire, and consults the 
 groves beneath high Albunea ; which is the greatest of 
 woods, resounding with the murmur of its holy fountain, 
 and breathing forth from its dark shade a strong mephitic 
 exhalation." The grove from which " the nations of Italy 
 and all the land of CEnotria looked for responses when in 
 perplexity" is now no more to be seen: only the bioken 
 
I4d THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI 
 
 ruin, the bubbling water springs, the wide Campagna and 
 ohve-covered mountains. Still, however, these waters are 
 in use, and are considered to have valuable medicinal 
 properties. Sir Humphry Davy found the waters to 
 register a temperature of eighty degrees Fahrenheit ; but 
 I believe it is now nearly ten degrees lower. The water is 
 surcharged with carbonic acid gas and contains sul- 
 phuretted hydrogen. It is dangerous to bathe too near 
 the springs on a still morning, when the vapours rest upon 
 the surface. During a summer which I once spent with 
 some friends at Tivoli, we often used to go for a bath, and 
 'found the waters highly refreshing and renovating. Here 
 we met cardinals from Rome, and other persons who had 
 driven twelve miles across the dusty Campagna for the 
 purpose of making use of the waters. The baths were 
 nothing but a few wooden sheds temporarily fixed. As in 
 the old Roman days, sometimes the gossip of the day was 
 talked over, archaeological and other discussions following, 
 in which we all freely joined, taking advantage of the frank 
 Italian courtesy. But oh, the hot drive along the plain 
 under the mountains on our return, when the sun had well 
 risen ! No words can describe the oven-like heat as we 
 crawled up the steep Sabine slopes to the more airy 
 heights upon which stands the temple of Tivoli, glad to 
 hide ourselves at noon in the friendly shelter of our little 
 inn. 
 
 Farther on to the right are the wonderful ruins of the Villa 
 of Hadrian. It stands at the foot of the Sabine moun- 
 tains. Its extent seems perfectly interminable. Some 
 antiquaries consider it to have occupied a space several 
 miles in circumference. In addition to its palatial halls, it 
 embraced theatres, baths, temples, barracks, and vast ex- 
 tents of pleasure ground. Some of the most beautiful of 
 ancient marbles were found amongst its ruins, probably 
 including that of the celebrated Venus de' Medici. Its 
 enormous walls, many of them left in good preservation, its 
 forlorn appearance, its growth of rank vegetation, the 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 141 
 
 numerous large cypresses which have grown about it, its 
 general look of desertion — so much grandeur, so much 
 magnificence, made the prey of decay and oblivion — make 
 it one of the most touching and impressive mementoes of 
 ancient times. 
 
 Following the hurrying stream through many a fairily- 
 fringed vale, by many a mossy bank and glimmering nook 
 of hazel and fern, through groves of olive and spreading 
 vineyards, we at last reach the abrupt heights from which 
 it falls, surmounted by the quaint and picturesque town of 
 Tivoli. 
 
 Tivoli (called by Ovid, Tiburis udi, watery Tivoli), as 
 every one knows who has visited the classic lands of Italy, 
 was the ancient Tibur, the favourite retreat of the Romans 
 during the hot weather. Hither Augustus retired from the 
 toils of state, here Horace wrote some of his best verses, 
 Catullus and Propertius sung its praises, the wealthy 
 Maecenas had his seat, and many noble and illustrious 
 Romans their villas or summer residences here. According 
 to Dionysius the primitive town was founded by the Siculi, 
 and was called Catilium after a hero of the times of 
 Evander. " You can plant no tree," says Horace to his 
 friend Varus, "preferable to the sacred vine about the 
 genial soil of Tibur and walls of Catilium."* It is first 
 noticed in history as being the place to which Marcus 
 Claudius, claimant, as the instrument of Appius, of the 
 unfortunate Virginia, was banished. It was subsequently 
 implicated in the Gallic invasion of Rome ; and after the 
 defeat of the Gauls at the Porta Collina they fled into 
 Tibur for refuge. The Tiburtines afterwards joined the 
 Latin League against the Romans ; but were finally sub- 
 dued by the consul Lucius Furius Camillus in the year 
 three hundred and thirty-five before Christ. They were, 
 however, denied the privileges of Roman citizenship, for 
 having taken part against Rome with the Gauls. 
 
 * Nullam, Vare, sacra vite prius severis arborem, 
 
 Circa mite solum Tiburis et moenia Gatili. O. I. 18. 
 
142 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. VI. 
 
 An amusing story is told by Livy and Ovid in con- 
 nection with Tibur, which happened in the year three 
 hundred and ten before Christ. The Pipers, who con- 
 stituted a considerable and important body at Rome, 
 whose services were deemed requisite at every ceremonial 
 and festival as well as at celebrations of religious worship, 
 being curtailed, both in number and in their traditional 
 privileges, by the asdile of that time, went over in a body 
 to Tibur. In vain they were entreated to return, until a 
 certain freedman made them a great feast at his farm in 
 the country, taking care that they should eat and drink 
 abundantly. At night closed carts were provided, in order, 
 as they thought, to take them home. Instead of this, they 
 were driven to Rome, and on awakening in the morning 
 found themselves in the Forum. In order to avoid the 
 ridicule of the people, they caused themselves to be dis- 
 guised in white garments ; a dress which they retained 
 always afterwards, their privileges being re-established. 
 
 Tibur was famous for the worship of Hercules. Nibby 
 believes the vast structure now in ruins, known by the 
 name of the Villa of Maecenas, to have been a temple of 
 that god. Syphax, the king of Numidia, after being 
 captured by Scipio at the battle of Massinissa, died here. 
 Here, too, Zenobia, the queen of the East, who united some 
 of the finest qualities of the general and the scholar, after 
 her long and valiant resistance to the arms of Aurellan, 
 eoded her days. Strabo says that the Anio was at one 
 time navigable from Tivoli to the Tiber. It is so no 
 longer, I believe, even for small boats. 
 
 There are still remains of ancient villas left near the bed 
 
 of the AnIo, where some mosaic floors and broken walls 
 
 have been discovered. It is not now considered the 
 
 healthiest of localities, owing to its dampness and sudden 
 
 changes of the weather, as embodied in the modern rhyme : 
 
 Tivoli di mal confer to, 
 
 O piove, o tira vento, o suona amorto. 
 
 (Tivoli of ill comfort — for it either rains, or the wind blows, 
 
Chap. VL 
 
 FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 
 
 143 
 
 or the death-bell sounds). It must have obtained this 
 character pretty early ; for it is thus mentioned in one of 
 the epigrams of Martial : '' Let us in the summer solstice," 
 he says, " retire to Ardea and the country about Paestum, 
 and to the tract which burns under the Cleonaean con- 
 stellation ; since Curiatius has condemned the air of Tivoli, 
 carried off as he was to the Styx notwithstanding its much- 
 lauded waters. From no place can you shut out fate : 
 when death comes, Sardinia is in the midst of Tivoli 
 itself."* 
 
 If I might be permitted here to indulge a moment's 
 personal recollection, I would recur to many happy hours 
 
 * Ardea solstitio, Castranaqiie rura petintur, 
 
 Qnique Cleonaeo sidere fervet ager; 
 Gum Tiburtinas damnet Curiatius auras, 
 
 Inter laudatas ad Styga missus aquas. 
 Nullo fata loco possis excludere : cum mors 
 
 Venerit, in medio Tibure Sardinia est. B. IV. ep. 60. 
 
144 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. VI. 
 
 spent in these delightful shades in the quiet occupation of 
 my pencil, when the morning mist still lay like a thin veil 
 on the Campagna, and the lark was loud in the sky, and 
 shrill cicalas were vocal from many trees. No words can 
 express the tenderness and sweetness of these delightful 
 seasons. Through vistas of grey olives the vast plain of 
 the Campagna was seen to stretch away, streaked with 
 thread-like roads and dim lines of recurrent aqueducts, 
 spotted with groves of trees and towered mediaeval for- 
 tress-farms, with a little white dwelling here and there, 
 and, perhaps, a trail of thin, blue smoke curling gradually 
 into nothingness. Almost twenty miles away the dome of 
 St. Peter's, clearly distinguishable in all Its outline, though 
 every other trace of Rome was lost in distance, stood like 
 the sentinel of this beautiful land ; at the farthest horizon 
 some faint, faint lines marking the region of far-off moun- 
 tains. But if the distant prospect was lovely, not less so 
 was that immediately surrounding. A neighbouring foun- 
 tain, at a turn of the road, which ran by, springing from a 
 dim, cool grotto half burled In ferns and straggling trailers, 
 gave refreshment to groups of picturesquely-dressed way- 
 farers and their well-laden beasts of burden, the travellers 
 themselves gossiping gaily or singing loudly, inspired with 
 the delightful season. Beneath the trees a shepherd 
 watched his flock, the sheep cropping the nutritious herbage 
 with now and then a bleat of satisfaction, whilst a tinkling 
 bell borne by one of them mixed its pleasant ringing with 
 the rural voices that filled the air, and the gentle murmur 
 of falling waters. In a deep ravine at the foot of these 
 olive-slopes the Anio wound, half hidden in velvet sward 
 and fringe-like foliage that bordered its course, beyond 
 which rose terraced gardens and vineyards, crowned by the 
 romantic buildings of Tivoll, with its frowning castle in 
 the background, and the round columned temple of the 
 Sibyl overhanging an abrupt cliff, which has furnished the 
 subject of so many pictures. From this steep were poured 
 down the waters of the "headlong Anio" in many a 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 145 
 
 whitened wreath, falh'ng slowly, with silvery band on band, 
 and then distributing themselves in airy clouds of dia- 
 phanous vapour : whilst, above it all, a sky of amethyst 
 blue formed a fitting dome to this gorgeous temple of 
 Nature, every court and chamber of which was redolent 
 with the odorous incense of the morning. 
 
 I will detain the reader yet a little longer in this fairy- 
 land of enchantment to take him into the quaint gardens 
 of the Villa d'Este, that stands on one of those heights ; 
 for assuredly he will be glad to linger a few moments 
 within its guardian walls, with their grey old gateways 
 grown with moss and lichen. It occupies a midway region 
 between nature and art ; for here Nature, as if jealous of 
 the interference of man where her own work is so beautiful, 
 is quick to take back to herself anything of which he may 
 once have had possession. One might imagine that the 
 sylvan and the faun had not yet deserted its still ilex- 
 shades and dilapidated grottos hung with long fronds of 
 hartstongue and delicate maidenhair — that daintily-shaped 
 dryads might still slip the bark, and flit stealthily between 
 those ancient boles ; or the glittering naiad, abandoning the 
 cool depths, sometimes sit sunning herself on the brink of 
 one of those broken basins dribbling lazy jets of crystal 
 water, wreathing her moist hair with flowers, and crooning 
 old-fashioned songs in a soft undertone — nay, even if 
 tawny-skinned, goat-footed old Pan, with his lofty eye- 
 brows and shaggy flanks, should be found seated at the 
 foot of some twisted root, piping a rustic melody, it would 
 scarcely seem a matter of surprise ; so congenial with 
 every old-world association does the spot appear. From 
 crumbling terraces mighty cypresses, with split and wrinkled 
 boles, shoot up thick pillars of gloom, abundant fountains 
 tossing their silvery columns at their foot. Here the lizard 
 sleeps all the day, or runs about nimbly in the sun. Tall 
 dipt hedges enclose plots of rank grass and beds of 
 rampant flowers ; roses reach forth their neglected sweets 
 with straggling hands ; violets and lilies have offered their 
 
146 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 lips in vain, and are now tired of blooming unnoticed and 
 uncared for : only the throstle and the blackbird and the 
 warbliilg nightingale enliven the solitude, glad to be alone 
 in the sweet hours of morning and eventide. 
 
 I might here tell how the beautiful Anio follows the 
 intricate regions of the Sabine mountains, under the cliffs 
 of the picturesque convent of St. Cosimato, through the 
 open fields of Spiaggia, furnishing water supplies to roman- 
 tically situated towns and villages perched on eyrie-like 
 fastnesses of crag and rock ; how graceful and lovely 
 maidens come down from these, bearing chastely-shaped 
 water-vessels on their heads, whilst the older dames, with 
 spool and distaff, stand spinning and gossiping together ; 
 how the river winds and wanders until it reaches the 
 wonderful little town of Subiaco, the ancient Sublaqueum, 
 with its quaint towered bridge, its crowning citadel, its 
 narrow crowded streets, its rumbling mills, its sombre 
 arched passages, its curious nooks and corners all dim and 
 . grey and fitted to the artist's pencil, with here and there a 
 pious picture and glimmering lamp burning before it ; but 
 it would lead us too far out of our way to do more than 
 mention the pleasant regions of this romantic country, with 
 its fresh scenes of beauty at every turn ; the olive-groves 
 and vineyards, the wayside shrines garlanded with wreaths 
 and decorated with flowers ; the wondrous church of 
 St. Benedict built against the rock, where was the cave he 
 once inhabited, within which the softened light falls be- 
 tween descending arches upon the groups of saints and 
 angels which adorn the spandrils ; these we must leave, 
 and let the stream wander at will amongst the blue moun- 
 tains from its source in the Abruzzi ; for our space does 
 not permit us to linger too long in these secluded fast- 
 nesses of Nature, where existence itself might well be lost 
 to the outer world in a perpetual dream of beauty and self- 
 contented indolence. 
 
 As we again pursue our way along the Tiber from the 
 point where the Anio falls into it, a wide plain expends 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN.E. 147 
 
 itself on either hand, through which the river winds and 
 wanders. This plain has been the scene of a hundred 
 fights. Over and over again it has been deluged with 
 blood in both ancient and modern times. No doubt many 
 an unrecorded struggle has taken place upon it which the 
 pages of history will never know. It is bounded on the 
 left by a not very lofty but abrupt range of rocks called 
 the Saxa Rubra, well sculptured by time, and tinted with 
 many-coloured lichens. As we pass along the river, a 
 hollow cave may be seen cut into the face of the escarpment 
 which has a deep interest, in that it has been supposed, with 
 every probability, to have been the burial-place of the family 
 of Ovid the Latin poet. It was discovered in sixteen 
 hundred and seventy four, then covered with elegant paint- 
 ings, symbolizing the reception of the poet in the spirit- 
 land, with other relevant pictures, as also inscriptions to 
 Quintus Ambrosius Naso, his wife and freedmen. They 
 have all long since vanished ; but the designs of them have 
 been preserved in the drawings and engravings of Santi 
 Bartoli. From these indications it has been inferred that 
 this was the burial-place, if not of the poet himself, at 
 least of his family and descendants. 
 
 Whilst contemplating this tomb, it is melancholy to turn 
 to the poet's long and weary banishment, with the com- 
 plaints of which his elegies and epistles are so loaded, and 
 recall his words as he was perhaps thinking of this dim 
 cave. " Shall I then depart," he writes to his wife by the 
 hand of another, "so far away in unknown regions, and 
 will death be embittered by the very spot } Will my body 
 not waste away on my wonted couch .? Will there be no 
 one to lament my sepulture } And will not a few moments 
 be added to my life as the tears of my wife fall upon my 
 face } and shall I give no last injunction } and shall no 
 friendly hand close my failing eyes amid the sobs at- 
 tending my last moments ; but shall barbarian earth cover 
 this head, unlamented, without funeral rites and without 
 the honour of a tomb ? . . . Oh, that my soul would 
 
148 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 perish with my body, and that no part of me would escape 
 the consuming pile ! For if my immortal spirit soars aloft 
 into the vacant air, and the words of the Samian sage are 
 true, a Roman shade will be wandering amid Sarmatian 
 ghosts, and will ever be a stranger amid uncivilized spirits."* 
 
 This sad letter concludes with the request that when he 
 is dead his ashes may be taken back in an urn mixed with 
 leaves and powdered amomum, and laid in the ground 
 near the city, with an inscription (though he says his most 
 enduring memorial must be his works) telling who it is 
 that lies there, and calling upon the passer-by for a prayer 
 that he may be allowed to rest in peace. 
 
 Beneath these cliffs runs the Via Flaminia, going from 
 Rome in a northerly direction, crossing the Cremera, 
 and passing Prima Porta in the way towards Florence. 
 Many a sturdy fight have these grim rocks witnessed, 
 many a heart has beat thick and fast under their solemn 
 shade, many a dying eye has grown dim with the film of 
 death as it gazed on their stern fronts, unchanged through 
 all the slaughter ; many a weeping mother has passed 
 underneath their lowering brows, her heart filled with tears 
 for her life's companion slain ; many a newly-made orphan 
 sat at their foot in sadness and desolation. To describe all 
 the known scenes of which they have been the unmoved 
 spectators would fill a volume : let it be enough to give one 
 here, not the least important. 
 
 In the early part of the fourth century, the rule of the 
 Roman empire was divided between Constantine and 
 Maxentius ; the former holding the Italian, and the latter 
 the transalpine territory. Whilst Constantine fulfilled the 
 duties of a responsible office with tact and vigour, Maxen- 
 tius, who remained in Italy, gave himself up to the abuse 
 of power and the worst passions of humanity. Selfish, 
 indolent, and unjust, he sought but to support and enlarge 
 a vicious soldiery at the expense of the best and noblest 
 people and sentiments of the state, and last of all, plotted 
 
 * B. iii. el. 3. 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^, 149 
 
 to overthrow his coadjutor, in order to take the reins of full 
 power into his own hands. The honest and fine-spirited 
 Constantine, nevertheless, disregarded as long as possible 
 every attempt to bring about a contest ; but finally, com- 
 pelled to act, seconded by the earnest request of the 
 Roman people that he would help them to get rid of a 
 mean and contemptible tyrant, he mustered all his available 
 troops, passing the Alps to meet an enemy whose numerical 
 force was four times greater than his own. Enervated, how- 
 ever, by supineness and the luxuries of southern life, the supe- 
 rior number of the Italian army did not avail them ; for the 
 vigorous and active Constantine, after a succession of signal 
 victories in north Italy, marched rapidly towards Rome and 
 met the army of Maxentius encamped on the level plain 
 stretching from these rocky cliffs (themselves of an ominous 
 red) to the river, distant from half a mile to a mile from 
 their base. Constantine disposed his troops that the enemy 
 might have the river in his rear, himself taking a prominent 
 lead, charging the foe with his heavy Gallic cavalry. The 
 defeat of the Maxentian army was complete, in spite of the 
 bravery of the praetorians, who perished to a man where 
 they first stood. The army fled in wild confusion, driven 
 by thousands into the Tiber, whilst Maxentius himself, at- 
 tempting to regain the city by the Milvian bridge, was thrust 
 into the stream in the struggle, and drowned in its waters. 
 
 Visitors to the Vatican will recollect the spirited represent- 
 ation of this battle given in Raphael's fine design on the 
 walls of the Stanze. He has, however, with the permissible 
 latitude of art, chosen for the scene of the battle the neigh- 
 bourhood of the Milvian bridge, three miles from the spot 
 where it actually occurred. It also finds a sculptured 
 record on the arch of Constantine near the Coliseum, which 
 was built to commemorate this event. 
 
 On the heights stretching along the Via Salara as it 
 approaches Castel Giubileo, is a desolate-looking residence, 
 called the Villa Spada. This is supposed to occupy the 
 site of the villa of Phaon, freed man of Nero the emperor, 
 
 M 
 
I50 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 who here killed himself. The story of his latter days is 
 told with close circumstantiality by Dion Cassius. After 
 he had enacted every vice and all manner of folly, a Gaul, 
 named Caius Julius Vindex, descended from a royal family, 
 whose father was of the order of senators, got up and 
 denounced him publicly. Nero set a reward of twenty-five 
 millions of drachmas on his head. " I will give my own 
 head," said Vindex, " as a reward to him that shall bring 
 me that of Nero." Vindex shortly afterwards, misunder- 
 standing his colleague Rufus, destroyed himself Rufus, 
 however, carried out the revolution. At first Nero pre- 
 tended to despise the movement ; but when he learned 
 that Galba was proclaimed emperor, he was seized with a 
 panic, and then formed a resolution to destroy the senate, 
 set fire to Rome, and retire to Alexandria, saying that he 
 would live there by the practice of music, in which he 
 believed himself to be a proficient ; but when he was 
 deserted by his guards, he disguised himself, mounting a 
 sorry horse, following the Via Salara. Finding, however, 
 that he was known and saluted on the high road, he dis- 
 mounted, hiding himself amongst the canes and reeds, 
 where the least sound terrified him. Taking refuge in a 
 cave, he was compelled to make a meal of bread and water 
 for the first time in his life. " Is this the delicious drink I 
 was wont to have ?" he asked himself scornfully. In the 
 meantime tidings had reached Rome of his place of con- 
 cealment. When he heard the approach of the horsemen 
 sent to seek him, he implored the three freedmen who were 
 his sole attendants to kill him, which, when they refused 
 to do, he said, sighing, that he was the only man in the 
 world who had neither friend nor enemy. As the horsemen 
 approached, he thrust his sword into his body, saying, 
 " Gods ! what a master dies to-day." He was the last of 
 the race of emperors who claimed descent from the line of 
 iEneas through Augustus. 
 
 A. little beyond the Villa Spada, and about five miles 
 from Rome, between the river and the Via Salara, is seen 
 
Chap. VI. * FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 151 
 
 the somewhat abrupt acclivity of Castel Giubileo, the site 
 of the ancient Fidenae ; the " urbs alta et munita " — lofty and 
 fortified city — of Livy, a bold headland rising from the level 
 of the plain, its steep side presented to the river. It ob- 
 tained its present name from the house on its summit, 
 which was built in a jubilee year. Formerly the river, now 
 some distance from its base (swift and vertiginous still, as 
 described by Dionysius), may have ran immediately beneath 
 it. It would then have been a formidable place of defence, 
 which might partly account for the success with which it 
 held out against the more powerful Romans. On the side 
 from the river, it gradually slopes down until it joins a 
 range of hills rising on the north-west, consisting of volcanic 
 tufa, honeycombed with the tombs of the ancient city. 
 Some of these remain tolerably perfect, with niches for the 
 lamps and urns, and seats cut out of the rock. Whatever 
 sculptures may have existed on the face of the rock outside 
 of the tombs have quite vanished. These tombs have all 
 the evidences of Etruscan origin. The city, when at its 
 largest, must not only have covered the sloping headland 
 above described, but also have been extended from the 
 lower part of the promontory to the adjacent range exca- 
 vated with tombs. These cliffs would also offer a strong 
 position in warfare. Probably the vulnerable point would 
 be that lying between the two hills, from which its defeats 
 for the most part may have been accomplished ; although 
 in the case of its being undermined, as mentioned by Livy, 
 he tells us that the mine was carried into the arx or citadel, 
 which might be supposed to have occupied the highest and 
 steepest part of the promontory. Nibby, however, thinks 
 that the arx was placed on the longer range of hills 
 removed from the river. The same writer assigns the 
 fragments of marble and other remains found betwixt 
 the Villa Spada and this place rather to edifices of 
 the latter empire, than the primitive Fidenae. He even 
 thinks it probable that some large stones found here may 
 have formed a part of the walls. 
 
 M 2 
 
152 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 The history of this city is an eventful one. In giving a 
 sketch of its more noteworthy events, it will be necessary 
 to begin with an old story. 
 
 In the early days of regal Rome, TuUus Hostilius was 
 placed upon the throne by election of the people, who 
 confirmed himself in their good graces by abandoning the 
 royal prerogative of certain lands in their favour, with 
 other acts of grace. At that time Rome was growing in 
 splendour and power ; so much so, as to fall under the 
 envy of the neighbouring states and towns. Amongst 
 these was Alba Longa, standing by a volcanic lake on an 
 eminence of the mountains to which it gave the name, 
 about fifteen miles from Rome, under the government of a 
 certain Cluilius, who was also possessed of a sentiment of 
 envy towards the sister city, both Rome and Alba being 
 said to own a common ancestry from the Alban kings of 
 Lavinium, descended from ^neas. Not daring to attack 
 Rome without some pretext, Cluilius incited the Albans 
 to petty thefts and pillagings on the Roman territory, 
 thinking by this means to bring himself in contact with 
 the Romans, and accomplish his warlike intentions with a 
 better grace. The Romans, irritated by these marauders, 
 at last made an incursion into the Alban territory, slaying 
 some, and taking others prisoners. This was just what 
 Cluilius wished. He assembled his countrymen, inveighing 
 against the Romans bitterly, requiring that ambassadors 
 should be sent to Rome to demand satisfaction ; which 
 was accordingly done. As the two nations were nominally 
 allies according to a treaty entered into in the days of 
 Romulus, by which either city was to sue for justice of its 
 colleague in case of wrong, and war was not to be com- 
 menced unless this was refused, neither wished first to 
 break the compact subsisting between them. So when the 
 ambassadors arrived in Rome, Tullus Hostilius caused 
 them to be entertained sumptuously until the following 
 day. but without seeing them ; in the meantime sending 
 other, Roman, ambassadors to the Albans, to demand a 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 153 
 
 similar satisfaction from them, in order that the Romans 
 should not be the first called upon to make reparation. On 
 the former stating their ambassage, they were refused on 
 the ground that already their embassy had been antici- 
 pated. When they returned to Rome, TuUus summoned 
 the Albans, and informed them of his stratagem, telling 
 them that as he had already been refused reparation at 
 their hands, he declared a just and necessary war against 
 them. 
 
 So the two armies were drawn up against each other, and 
 a goodly array they would seem to have presented, since 
 each hesitated to make the attack, even until the warmth 
 of the animosity between them began to diminish. Cluilius 
 at last resolved upon action, but the night before the pro- 
 posed encounter, was found dead in his tent, apparently 
 from natural causes. In his stead was appointed Mettus 
 Fufetius, accused by the historians of tardiness and incom- 
 petency. However that might be, he proposed an armis- 
 tice, submitting that instead of risking the safety of the two 
 states by a devouring warfare, they should rather appoint 
 certain individuals to fight out the quarrel, and decide by 
 personal combat which of them should rule the other, 
 imforming them that already the Fidenates and Veientes, 
 who under the reign of Numa had pretty well recovered 
 their former reverses, had entered into a secret alliance to 
 break off the Roman yoke by waiting for the day of battle, 
 with the intention of rushing in on its termination, and 
 treating both victor and vanquished as common enemies ; 
 in proof of which he caused letters from his friends in 
 Fidenae to be read, the contents of which were confirmed 
 by the messenger who bore them. The Romans were, 
 therefore, not unwilling to accede to the proposition of 
 Mettus. But now, whilst every person wished to thrust 
 himself forward as eligible for so honourable an under- 
 taking, arose the question as to who should be entrusted 
 with an enterprise of so momentous an issue. Proposal 
 after proposal was made and discarded ; but circumstances 
 
154 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 at last decided what counsel and consideration had failed 
 to effect." 
 
 In the city of Alba there was a man named Sicinius, 
 father of twin daughters who had been married, the one to 
 an Alban, the other to a Roman. These daughters had 
 each brought into the world three male children at the first 
 birth, who grew up, gifted in beauty and strength, and 
 magnanimity of mind. These were thought to be pointed 
 out by the gods as fit champions for the national supremacy. 
 It is true, that at first there were objections raised on the 
 score of consanguinity, but these were speedily overruled 
 by the youths themselves, who professed themselves willing 
 to forget everything else in the honour and prosperity of 
 their respective countries, without any desire to excuse 
 themselves from the combat. Accordingly, they were 
 placed face to face in front of the two armies, which were 
 drawn up to witness the combat on the confines of the two 
 states. It was a touching sight to see these young men, 
 relatives, with warm and friendly feeling to each other, 
 come to the contest, arrayed in the panoplies of war, but 
 each bearing withal the insignia of death upon him, as if he 
 expected to come out of it no more alive. It was a still 
 more saddening sight when they threw themselves with 
 tears and strong expressions of tenderness into each other's 
 arms, protesting against the hardness of fate that com- 
 pelled them to stand before each other as enemies. A 
 dead silence prevailed when they first began to fight, but 
 presently the excitement of the contest burst forth ; both 
 armies loudly cheering and inciting the combatants, till the 
 enthusiasm knew no bounds. Long was the strife doubt- 
 ful ; until, at last, the eldest of the Albans, after giving 
 and receiving many wounds, ran his adversary through the 
 body and killed him. But too soon rose the mighty shout 
 from the Albans, who now considered the victory certain, 
 for one of the Roman brothers fighting near him im- 
 mediately disengaged himself, and attacking the successful 
 champion, vehemently plunged his sword in his throat, so 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. 155 
 
 that he also died. This death was again avenged instantly 
 upon the Roman, who however, before he was slain, ham- 
 strung the Alban, who, though considerably disabled, yet 
 managed to rally, in order to assist his remaining brother 
 against the last of the Roman trio. The latter now seeing 
 himself liable to be overpowered, conceived the stratagem 
 of flight ; and when he had by this means separated his 
 adversaries, the one already lamed not being able to keep 
 up with the other, and whilst the whole Roman army was 
 hooting him as a coward, and the Albans already crowning 
 themselves with bays, turned round suddenly, first slaying 
 the foremost one, and then putting an end to his companion, 
 Thus the field remained to the last of the Roman com- 
 batants, who, taking the tokens of victory, hastened to the 
 city, with the filial sentiments of his time and country, to 
 convey the joyful intelligence to his father. 
 
 Now, as he entered the gates of the city, amongst the 
 crowds pressing out anxious for news of the contest, he was 
 much surprised to meet his own sister, who, unattended and 
 in dishabille, had so far forgotten appearances as to have 
 set aside those rules which were something more than 
 matters of etiquette to the Roman maiden. Willing, how- 
 ever, to put the best construction upon her appearance, he 
 naturally concluded that anxiety for her brothers' welfare 
 had brought her out thus inconsiderately. But there were 
 other reasons than this. Unknown to her brother and the 
 world, she had been already afiianced to one of the Alban 
 youths, and hearing the result of the conflict, had rushed 
 out of the house despite of all efforts to detain her. Meeting 
 her brother, crowned with garlands of victory, and bearing 
 the spoils of the slain, amongst which was an embroidered 
 garment which she herself had worked for her lover — per- 
 haps he had worn it tenderly to his heart for that very 
 reason — all stained with blood ; with many lamentations 
 she upbraided him in the bitterest terms, asking him of 
 what wild beast he had the heart, beating her breast, and 
 tearing her hair violently. He in his turn replied with the 
 
156 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 greatest indignation, that she was not worthy of her name 
 or country, thus to dishonour both, and drawing his sword, 
 pierced her through the body, bidding her go and rejoin 
 her departed lover. 
 
 And herein comes out the sturdy stuff of which the old 
 Roman character was made. When the father heard of it, 
 so far was he from disapproving of what had been done, that 
 he would not allow her to be brought to the family tomb, 
 or any funeral ceremony to be used over her ; and, indeed, 
 refused to take any part in her burial at all ; so that the 
 passers-by were fain to cover her with earth and stones 
 where she lay. The same day this iron-hearted father 
 partook of the festivities and rejoicing as though he had no 
 concern whatever with the tragical events that had brought 
 them about. 
 
 At that time murder in Rome, especially domestic 
 murder, was most severely punished ; for the murderer was 
 outlawed by the act ; so that he might be put to death 
 without trial. Horatius was brought before the king on 
 the capital charge. But whilst the latter, sorely puzzled, 
 knew not whether to acquit or condemn him, the father 
 came forward, protesting against his accusation, and saying, 
 as the father of both, he had a right to be heard. Tullus, 
 however, not willing to have the responsibility of decision, 
 committed the question to the votes of the people, who 
 acquitted Horatius of murder. The king, nevertheless, 
 scarcely satisfied with this inquisition for blood, caused 
 him to undergo various purifying ceremonies ; the last of 
 which was that he should pass under the yoke (a transverse 
 beam laid across two perpendicular ones) beneath which 
 captives were led, in order to obtain manumission. The 
 one beneath which Horatius passed stood long afterwards, 
 stretched above the altars of one of the streets of Rome, an 
 object of reverence to the citizens, henceforward called 
 Sororium Tigillum, or the Sister's Beam. 
 
 No sooner had the Romans consolidated, as they thought, 
 their new union with the Albans, than they declared war a 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN.E. 157 
 
 second time against the Fidenates, in order to punish them 
 for their intrigue. The latter, having obtained the assist- 
 ance of the Veientes, put themselves in open revolt and 
 retired to their city, together with the allied troops. The 
 king of Rome placing the utmost confidence in the Alban 
 general, communicated to him all his designs. Fufetius, 
 however, growing jealous of Roman rule, formed a secret 
 conspiracy with the Fidenates, promising to turn round on 
 the Roman army as soon as fortune should favour his 
 designs. Tullus crossed the Anio, and placed himself on 
 the plain lying on the southern side of Fidenae, with the 
 intention of going to battle the following morning. Fufetius 
 in the meantime summoned the chief men of the Alban 
 army, explaining his plans and inciting them to get rid of 
 the Roman yoke. The next day at sunrise the Fidenates 
 left their camp and ranged themselves out for battle. 
 Tullus also crossed the Anio, and disposing his troops near 
 the banks of the Tiber, stood opposed to the Veientes ; 
 the Albans facing the Fidenates, away from the river, at 
 the foot of the hills trending towards Fidenae. As the two 
 armies approached, the Albans, separating themselves from 
 the Romans, began to ascend the heights, thus leaving the 
 right wing of the latter uncovered and exposing them to 
 great slaughter. At this moment a horseman rode up, 
 informing Tullus of the real state of matters. With great 
 presence of mind he immediately ordered the cavalry to 
 elevate their spears ; by this means concealing the retreat 
 of the allies from a great proportion of his army ; calling 
 out in a loud voice, that they were taking up that position 
 by his orders so that they might reach the enemy's rear. 
 This being heard by the Fidenates, it caused them to 
 misdoubt the intention of Fufetius, and giving way to the 
 redoubled efforts of the Romans, they at last fled in 
 confusion into their city. The following winter they were 
 reduced to their former condition of dependence after 
 having been besieged by Tullus and at last compelled to 
 submit to his own terms. To end the story, Fufetius was 
 
158 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 first beaten with many stripes, and afterwards drawn 
 asunder by horses ; and Alba finally levelled to the ground, 
 its inhabitants being driven for shelter into Rome. 
 
 Without noticing the minor encounters between the 
 Fidenates and the Romans, the next important one was 
 during the consulate of Publius Valerius, surnamed Popli- 
 cola, and Titus Lucretius, in the year four hundred and 
 ninety-six before Christ, when the Sabines made war upon 
 Rome at the instigation of Sextus, son of Tarquinius, 
 allying the Fidenates. There were two camps formed, one 
 in the open field not far from Fidense, and the other within 
 the city ; the latter both for a guard to the city and a 
 reserve for those without. The Romans marched out to 
 meet them, intending to bring matters to an immediate 
 engagement. The Sabines, on the contrary, fearing the 
 unflinching boldness of the Roman troops, prepared for the 
 surprise of a night attack, rather than face them in the 
 open field. An ambuscade was laid, and everything put in 
 readiness for carrying out this plan, when a deserter from 
 the Sabine camp gave intimation of all that had been done, 
 which was confirmed by some prisoners taken while getting 
 wood. A little before midnight the Sabine general crept 
 stealthily to the Roman camp, shrouded in silence and the 
 darkness of the night, and seeing no lights nor other 
 indications of wakefulness, concluded that the enemy 
 was steeped in slumber, oblivious of danger. Filling up 
 the trenches with the fascines they had prepared, they 
 passed over unopposed, but immediately on entering the 
 camp they were attacked and killed by the Romans who 
 were lying in wait for them. At that moment the moon 
 arose showing the Sabines heaps of their slain companions 
 and their own danger. A great shout was raised by the 
 Romans. In a moment the camps of both generals were 
 in motion, fully armed. On that night there fell of the 
 Sabines and their allies thirteen thousand, four thousand 
 two hundred being made prisoners. In a few days the 
 city of Fidenae was taken. The principal persons being 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^E. 159 
 
 punished, but the city left to a great extent unmolested, 
 only receiving a garrison of Roman soldiers within it to 
 keep it in subjection. 
 
 The last act remains to be told in the changeful history 
 of the city. In the year three hundred and sixteen of 
 Rome, or four hundred and thirty-eight before the Christian 
 era, Fidenae again rebelled against Roman dominion, 
 placing itself under that of Veii, and, what was worse, by 
 the order of Lars Tolumnus, king of Veii, slew four Roman 
 ambassadors sent to inquire into their disaffection. This 
 was at once cause for war. The Fidenates were not only 
 supported in this struggle by the Veientes, but also were 
 further strengthened by the Falisci, an Etruscan people 
 belonging to a district higher up the river. The two 
 former hoped rather by protracting the war to harass and 
 gain an advantage over the Roriian troops, but the Falisci,^ 
 on the contrary, being some distance from their homes, 
 wished to give battle at once and decide the contest. This 
 Lars concluded to do, and sending a party of Veientes, 
 who were the most numerous of the forces, to attack the 
 rear of the Romans during the heat of battle, at once 
 prepared for the engagement. The Fidenates were placed 
 in the centre, the two allies respectively occupying the 
 lateral wings. For a while all was silent, the Romans 
 awaiting the issue of some auguries before the onset. 
 Presently a loud shout was raised. The armies met with 
 clashing weapons ; but everywhere the Romans had the 
 advantage. Lars himself behaved valiantly. Again and 
 again he rallied his cavalry, rushing into the thick of the 
 fight, dealing slaughter on every hand ; even when the 
 allied army was giving back from the shock of Roman 
 arms. Whilst matters were in this condition, one Aulus 
 Cornelius Cossus, a tribune of the Roman soldiers, seeing 
 the Roman army driven back by the charge of the Veientine 
 king, whom he recognised by his royal apparel as he flew 
 along the lines of his troops inciting them to action, rode 
 forwards, exclaiming, " Is this the traitor to treaties, and 
 
i6o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VL 
 
 rebel to the law of nations ? As a victim he shall now be 
 slain (if the gods desire anything to be kept sacred), a 
 sacrifice to the manes of the murdered ambassadors." 
 Thus saying, he rode at him furiously with level lance, and 
 throwing him upon the ground as he attempted to rise, 
 flung him back with his shield ; finally pinning him a 
 corpse to the earth, taking his spoils, decapitating him, and 
 placing his head upon the point of his spear. By this 
 bloody token the whole allied army knew it was beaten, 
 and fled panic-stricken on every side ; the Fidenates 
 making the most successful retreat from their knowledge 
 of the country ; the Romans, after pursuing them to their 
 intrenchments, crossing the Tiber and returning to their 
 city with much booty from the surrounding territory. 
 
 A great triumph was the reward of Cossus, in which he 
 bore the spoils of the slain king, followed by the soldiers, 
 who extolled him in unmeasured verse as being equal with 
 Romulus. These spoils he carried to the temple of Jupiter 
 Feretrius. So much was he praised and honoured that all 
 eyes were drawn from the dictatorial carriage even, and none 
 shared with him the popularity of that day. 
 
 The Romans did not immediately follow up their victory, 
 as the surrounding country was devastated by a severe 
 pestilence ; but the Fidenates, taking advantage of the lull 
 of hostilities, descended upon the Roman territory, com- 
 mitting great depredations, and being again joined by 
 the Veientes (the Falisci could not be induced to take 
 part in the struggle any more), approached the walls of 
 Rome. The Romans were, however, quickly under arms, 
 and not only repulsed them from the city, but followed 
 them almost to Nomentum, where a great battle was 
 fought, the Romans being victorious as before. The 
 Fidenates took refuge within their city, which, being loftily 
 situated, well fortified and supplied with an abundance of 
 provision, could neither be taken by assault nor blockade. 
 Upon this the Romans determined upon carrying a mine 
 into the citadel. Distracting the people by feints and 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDEN^. i6i 
 
 skirmishes, they were able finally to accomplish their object, 
 emerging into their stronghold, and then making themselves 
 masters of the city. 
 
 Fidenae had scarcely kept truce with Rome ten years 
 after this defeat when it was reported that some Fidenatan 
 youths had joined the Veientes in a marauding party on 
 the Roman territory. Again, however, collision was avoided 
 for the time being in consequence of a severe drought, 
 followed by a dreadful plague in which men and animals 
 suffered alike. Heralds were afterwards sent to Veii and 
 restitution demanded, but in vain. War was declared 
 against Veii, and in an engagement that ensued the 
 Romans were worsted. Dispirited by their defeat, the 
 Romans re-entered their city amidst general mourning, 
 whilst the Veientes sent round to the neighbouring states 
 inviting them to unite in the contest with Rome. The 
 only one, however, which listened to this proposal was 
 Fidenae. Slaying the Roman settlers who had taken up 
 their abode within their city, they at once allied themselves 
 with the Veientes and prepared for renewed hostilities. It 
 was deliberated which would be the most eligible seat of 
 war, Veii or Fidenae. At last it was concluded to carry it 
 to the latter place ; and once more this fertile plain was 
 destined to be covered with blood for dew and the bodies 
 of slain men for the fruits of the earth. 
 
 The Roman camp was pitched at a distance of fifteen 
 hundred paces from Fidenae, on the Roman side, with a 
 range of hills rising on the right and the Tiber on the left. 
 Mamercus ^Emilius was dictator and Aulus Cos.sus master 
 of the horse. The engagement began. The Roman 
 legions fought impetuously, furiously, calling their enemies 
 murderers, traitors, and truce breakers, bad both as friends 
 and enemies. 
 
 From the very first the Romans had the advantage, and 
 pressed their opponents even to the gates of their city. 
 But here the surprise of a new and unusual mode of war- 
 fare awaited them. No sooner had the Romans gained 
 
i62 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 the entrance into the city than they were met by a vast 
 multitude of persons rushing out of the gateway, bearing 
 blazing torches and firebrands, who, with wild cries, rushed 
 amongst them, dismaying them with flarries of fire and the 
 most furious and frantic gestures and behaviour. At first 
 the Romans were beaten back ; but Quintius Pennus, 
 military tribune, rushed forward calling on them to dash 
 out the brands with their weapons, or seize them and burn 
 the city with their own flames, remembering their names 
 and wrongs as Romans. The firebrands were seized, upon 
 which the warfare was redoubled, as the dictator took off 
 the bridle from his horse, bidding his troops do the 
 same, and setting spurs to its flanks determined either to 
 be a conqueror or to perish. The cavalry under his com- 
 mand followed his example, rushing hither and thither and 
 distributing slaughter on every side ; leaving their traces 
 marked by the dead and wounded wherever they passed. 
 The Roman reserves had already attacked the enemy in 
 the rear. Thus surrounded, the whole battle became en- 
 veloped in smoke and dust. A universal slaughter ensued. 
 The Veientes rushed precipitately to the river, across which 
 their own city lay, where most of them perished, either 
 slain on its banks or else borne down in the water by the 
 weight of their armour. Hotly pursued to the gates, the 
 Fidenates were no longer able to exclude the enemy. The 
 city was entered and pillaged, the inhabitants being carried 
 to Rome and sold as slaves : thus closing the history of 
 Fidenae as an independent state and people. 
 
 Henceforward it fell into decay. It is mentioned by 
 Cicero, Horace, Strabo, and Juvenal, as being a place of 
 insignificant importance in their days, yet it always main- 
 tained a municipality. In the reign of Tiberius it was the 
 seat of a disastrous calamity thus related by the historian 
 Tacitus : — 
 
 " A sudden calamity occurred in the consulship of Marcus 
 Licinius and Lucius Calpurnius, which equalled the havoc 
 of the most destructive wars ; its beginning and end were 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENyE. 163 
 
 simultaneous. One Atilius had undertaken to erect an 
 amphitheatre at Fidense, there to exhibit a combat of 
 gladiators : he was of the race of freedmen, and as he 
 engaged in the business from no exuberance of wealth, 
 nor to acquire popularity amongst the inhabitants, but as 
 a matter of sordid gain, he neither put it upon solid founda- 
 tions, nor employed braces to strengthen the wooden fabric 
 which formed the superstructure. Thither flocked from 
 Rome persons of either sex and every age, eager for such 
 shows, as during the reign of Tiberius they were debarred 
 from diversions at home ; and in greater crowds from the 
 nearness of the place : hence the calamity was the more 
 disastrous ; for the theatre being crowded so as to form 
 a dense mass, and then rent asunder, some portions tumbled 
 inwards, others bulging towards the outer parts, a countless 
 number of human beings, either intent upon the spectacle 
 or standing near around the place, were either borne head- 
 long to the ground or buried under the ruins. Those, 
 indeed, who were killed by the shock of the first crash, 
 escaped, as far as was possible in such a disaster, the misery 
 of torture : much more to be pitied were those who, with 
 portions of their bodies torn away, were not yet forsaken of 
 life ; those who by day beheld their wives and children, 
 and by night distinguished them by their groans and cries. 
 And now others, summoned to the spot by the sad tidings, 
 bewailed one his brother, another his kinsman, a third his 
 parents : even they whose friends or kindred were absent 
 on a different account, were yet terrified ; for as it was not 
 as yet distinctly known who had fallen in the calamity, 
 the alarm spread wider from the uncertainty. 
 
 ** When the ruins began to be removed, they crowded 
 around the dead, embracing them and kissing them ; 
 and frequently there arose a contest about their identity, 
 where distortion of the features, personal resemblance, 
 or similarity of age had created a liability to error in 
 those who claimed them. Fifty thousand souls were 
 crushed to death or maimed by this sad disaster : it 
 
i64 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VI. 
 
 was therefore for the future provided by a decree of the 
 senate, that no man under the qualification of four hundred 
 thousand sesterces should exhibit the spectacle of gladia- 
 tors ; and no amphitheatre should be founded but upon 
 ground of proved solidity. Atilius was punished with exile. 
 However, immediately upon this destructive calamity, the 
 doors of the great were thrown open ; medicines and phy- 
 sicians were furnished to all ; and at that juncture the city, 
 though under an aspect of sorrow, presented an image of 
 the public spirit of the ancient Romans ; who, after great 
 battles, relieved and sustained the wounded by their liberality 
 and attentions."* 
 
 Of Fidense itself there is now nothing left ; although 
 Cluver, an antiquary of the latter part of the seventeenth 
 century, says that in his time there still existed ruins of 
 considerable importance, partly in the valley and partly on 
 the high ground. Kircher also speaks of the remains of 
 a large city existing at Castel Giubileo, in sixteen hundred 
 and thirty-seven. Now a solitary farm-house crowns the 
 summit of its site, which stands as a beacon to all the 
 country round. It is a sturdy edifice with a large court 
 and a chapel. Probably it may have been built from 
 remains of the ancient city. It is only tenanted by a few 
 peasants, and wears a dreary and forsaken appearance. 
 The noise of a bustling population and the clash of arms 
 have given place to the singing shepherd and bleating flock, 
 or the dead silence of the Campagna. I will ask the reader 
 to climb with me up to the summit in one of several visits 
 I made to it from Rome. 
 
 What a prospect lies before us ! At our feet a varied 
 and luxuriant plain stretches away through many a sunny 
 upland and sombre hollow. Rich and, at the same time, 
 subdued in colour, the billowy Campagna floats into seas 
 of aerial grey just touched by the far sunlight into little 
 rosy isles of rest. Through this plain, crossed with lines 
 of road and spotted with white houses, with here and 
 * Ann. iv. 62, 63. 
 
Chap. VI. FROM ROME TO FIDENjE. > 165 
 
 there a cypress or a pine rising beside them, the river 
 wanders, turning hither and thither as if loth to leave 
 it. Its banks are clothed with bursting vegetation, its 
 tawny bosom taking the silver-broidered shadows, curling 
 and waving them in its turbid depths. The farther side of 
 the plain, dotted over with feeding sheep, was the battle- 
 field of Maxentius and Constantine before described. Be- 
 yond this runs the range of the Saxa Rubra, now smiling 
 grimly in the sunshine, to the left of which are seen the 
 pleasant heights of Monte Mario and the huge dome of 
 St. Peter's. Beyond the plain, over an undulating tract of 
 rising ground, the blue outline of Soracte keeps the horizon. 
 More to the right, dimly imbedded in a distant hollow, the 
 Cremera flows and empties itself into the Tiber ; and 
 farther still, hardly discernible in the trembling summer 
 air, are the heights of Veii. Then comes the elevation upon 
 which stood the villa of Livia. Nearer, and in the same 
 direction, a few grey buildings at Marcigliana mark the 
 conjectured site of the ancient Latin city Crustumerium. 
 Beneath this hill flows the Allia ; beyond which lies the 
 battle-field on which the Romans met with their shameful 
 defeat by the Gauls under Brennus. Following the same 
 direction, the Sabine mountains rise, beginning with the 
 abrupt peaks of Monticelli ; some snowy summits gleam- 
 ing at the far horizon, fit guardians of so beautiful a terri- 
 tory. At their foot may be seen the dim sparkle of Tivoli, 
 St. Angelo the birth-place of Servius Tullius, Palombaro, 
 and many lesser towns and villages. Over all this a tender 
 and luxurious calm broods. It is impossible to realise the 
 fact that these desolate heights were once piled with cities 
 and peopled with an active and bustling humanity, much 
 less that the plains below were the seat of so much horrible 
 slaughter and bloodshed. Now every trace of passion and 
 ambition has vanished. Quiet sunshine fills the scene. 
 Tranquillity reigns once more, and Nature is at peace with 
 herself. 
 
 N 
 
i66 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FROM FIDEN^ TO SCORANO. 
 
 AS we passed along the river there was an inexpressible 
 grace and beauty in the shifting lines of the Cam- 
 pagna, bounded by the Tusculan range of hills softened in 
 the warm glow of the bright sunshine ; every moment 
 opening out some new charm in the landscape, each ap- 
 pearing more lovely than the last. 
 
 Nearly opposite to Fidenae, on the left, the Cremera 
 discharges itself into the Tiber ; an inconsiderable stream 
 in itself, but the nurse and companion of the Etruscan city 
 Veii. • Following its picturesque bed for about six miles, a 
 romantic valley of deeply-cut gorges and escarped heights 
 is seen in which this city was situated. Its site, long an 
 object of research, was determined by interpreting strictly 
 the descriptions of the old historians, who in regard to its 
 physical features and distance from Rome, appear to have 
 described it very accurately — so accurately and so obviously 
 that it is singular it could have escaped identification so 
 long, especially as its site is definitively marked by traces 
 of human labour in the remains of walls, tombs and other 
 monuments. Its situation is highly romantic, but it can 
 only be appreciated in its immediate vicinity, as its highest 
 point does not rise very much above the level of the sur- 
 rounding Campagna, which, after the gorges are surmounted, 
 everywhere slopes from it in easy lines. The sides of these 
 ravines are clothed with thick plantations ; over one of 
 
Chap. VII. 
 
 FROM FIDENyE TO S CORA NO. 
 
 167 
 
 which a branch of the Cremera, after turning a picturesquely- 
 situated mill, falls, and then flows away deep down, half 
 hidden amongst broad-leaved burs and sapling oaks. 
 Surrounded by these gorges ; the result of volcanic action 
 of enormous force — the ancient city rose upon the steep 
 and lofty rocks, further fortified by massive stone walls, 
 ruins of which still remain. No wonder that it could stand 
 a ten years' siege ; it would be rather a w^onder that, if 
 sufficiently provisioned, it could ever be taken at all from 
 without. 
 
 VEII, FROM THE CAMPAGNA. 
 
 The importance of Veii was once very great. It was 
 said to have been as large as Athens. It was even seriously 
 deliberated after its final reduction by the Romans, when 
 the Gallic invasion under Brennus had produced such 
 serious results to their own city, if it would not be better 
 to transfer Rome altogether to Veii. It was only on the 
 strong appeal of Camillus to the associations belonging to 
 the city of their forefathers, that the Romans were persuaded 
 to abandon the project. Dionysius says that " it possessed 
 
 N 2 
 
[68 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 a large and fruitful territory, partly mountainous and partly 
 in the plain. The air was pure and healthy, the country 
 being free from the vicinity of the marshes, which produce 
 a heavy atmosphere, and without any river which might 
 render the morning air too rigid. Nevertheless there was 
 abundance of water, not artificially conducted, but rising 
 from natural springs, and good to drink."* 
 
 The first time that Veii appears in history, is when the 
 Fidenates seized on some boats of provisions despatched to 
 Rome by the Crustumerians at a time of famine, drawing 
 upon themselves the enmity of Romulus, who thereupon 
 made himself master of their city, and established a garrison 
 there of three hundred soldiers. The Veientes, looking 
 with jealousy on this advancement of Roman power, re- 
 quested Romulus to withdraw his troops from Fidenae, and 
 to restore to the Fidenates the lands he had confiscated. 
 Romulus refusing, they drew up their army in front of 
 Fidenae, upon which he immediately occupied the city itself 
 This resulted in a battle, in which the Veientes were discom- 
 fited. They then made a truce for a hundred years, the 
 conditions of which were registered on stone columns, 
 ceding to the Romans certain territories on the river, 
 together with the salt flats of Ostia. 
 
 Amongst the many subsequent contests between the 
 Romans and Veientes, there are some more important than 
 the rest, which may be here noticed. One of these hap- 
 pened under the joint consulship of Cneius Manlius and 
 Marcus Fabius, when the Veientes declared war against the 
 Romans, largely supported by the Etruscans of the neigh- 
 bouring country. These consuls marched against Veii, 
 encamping on two adjacent hills before it. The Roman 
 army, however, being greatly inferior in numbers to that of 
 the Veientes, and being, besides, disturbed with disaffection, 
 it was thought better to fortify the encampment, and, by 
 forbearing action as long as possible, increase the ardour of 
 the soldiers for an engagement. Of this the Veientes and 
 * In one of the fragments discovered by Cardinal Mai. 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENyE TO SCORANO. 169 
 
 their allies being aware, they suffered considerable uneasiness, 
 and did all that they possibly could to provoke a combat 
 by taunting the Romans with cowardice, and challenging 
 them to come forth and fight, approaching the very gates 
 and ramparts of their fortification. This stratagem of the 
 Roman generals had its effect upon their troops. The 
 soldiers came in a body to their tents, entreating them to 
 be led to battle, in order that they might stop the boasting 
 of the enemy. The generals, however, refused, and dis- 
 missed them, cautioning them that whoever raised his arm 
 against the foe, would be treated as one of them, and im- 
 mediately put to death. At last the Veientes actually 
 began to draw a line of circumvallation around the Roman 
 camp, and to cut off their supplies, whereupon the soldiers 
 came once more to the tent of their generals, and demanded 
 that they should be at once led into an engagement. Their 
 enthusiasm was still more inflamed by a plebeian of ac- 
 credited honour and courage, named Marcus Flavoleius, 
 commander of one of the legions, who came forward holding 
 up his sword, and swearing that he would return to Rome 
 victorious or not at all. Presently the whole army followed 
 his example. 
 
 So the battle commenced, and a very sharp engagement 
 it was for both sides. The Etruscans threw away their 
 javelins in the confusion of the onset, so that it very soon 
 became a hand-to-hand fight. Amongst the foremost in 
 the fight the noble Fabian family were the most con- 
 spicuous for their gallantry. One of these, Quintus Fabius, 
 who had been consul two years before, as he was heading 
 his men in the thick of the fight, was pierced in the breast 
 by the sword of an Etruscan and killed, which had so dis- 
 heartening an effect on the Roman soldiers, that they were 
 beginning to give way before the redoubled strokes of the 
 enemy, when the consul Marcus, leaping over the body as 
 it lay upon the ground, cried, " Is this your oath, soldiers, 
 that you would retreat, driven back to your camp } Do you 
 fear the enemy more than Jupiter and Mars, by whom 
 
I70 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 you have sworn } But I, who have not sworn, will fulfil 
 your broken vow beside this body." His brother consul 
 then appearing, bade him leave speech for action ; upon 
 which, both rushing forward, carried with them the whole- 
 line. 
 
 This gallant spirit soon diffused itself throughout the 
 army. Various were the fortunes of the fight. But whilst 
 it was still raging, the Etruscans, relying on their superior 
 numbers, had draughted their reserves, and set them to 
 plunder the Roman camp. Whilst they were thus occupied, 
 the veteran troops of the third line, who had been driven 
 back to the camp during the engagement, now attacked 
 these on their own account, sending word to the general 
 what had happened. Manlius immediately went thither, 
 and posting his troops at the various entrances, began to 
 attack them with vigour. This aroused the fury of the 
 imprisoned enemy, who, in their desperate attempts to free 
 themselves from the perilous situation, killed the consul, 
 which so dismayed the Romans that they began to give 
 way before them. This being perceived by the lieutenant- 
 generals, they immediately opened a way for the Etruscans, 
 who, rushing out of the camp, were met by the victorious 
 troops of the Roman army, and at once discomfited by them, 
 driven before them, together with the whole Etruscan army, 
 into the city. The Romans waited in their encampment 
 for several days ; but as the enemy did not again make its 
 appearance, and an attack upon the city would have been 
 quite out of the question, they returned to Rome, rejoicing, 
 indeed, in their hardly won victory, but full of regrets for 
 the two illustrious heroes who had paid the forfeit of their 
 lives as the price of their bravery. A triumph was decreed 
 to the consul, who led his victorious troops into Rome ; but 
 he refused to enter into it in respect and grief for the dead ; 
 thus, as the historian says, gaining to himself a nobler 
 triumph. 
 
 The war, however, was not over ; for the Veientes and 
 their allies kept up constant and harassing incursions into 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENjE TO SCORANO. 171 
 
 the Roman territory. At the same time the Romans were 
 beset with enemies on every hand. So emboldened were 
 the Veientes that they had actually advanced as far as the 
 Janiculum on the other side of the Tiber, menacing Rome 
 itself. Whilst the senate was sorely puzzled what course 
 to take in the midst of so many enemies, with an im- 
 poverished treasury, the distinguished patrician family of 
 the Fabii came forwards, and through Caeso as their mouth- 
 piece, volunteered to go forth against the Veientes, the 
 expedition being at their own charge and responsibility,- 
 both of supplies and men, since it was not so much a great 
 force that was required as a constancy of watchfulness to 
 withstand the incursions of the foe. This offer was thank- 
 fully accepted. They left the city amidst the acclamations 
 and benedictions of the people ; three hundred and six 
 bearing the name of Fabius, but numbering with their 
 clients and followers from three to four thousand men. 
 When they came to the river Cremera, not far from Veii, 
 they built a fortress upon a steep and craggy hill, sur- 
 rounding it with a double ditch, and fortifying it with 
 towers ; thence ravaging the country beyond, whither the 
 Veientes had taken their herds and flocks, thinking, by this 
 means, to place them out of the reach of the enemy. They 
 occupied this position two years. Their confidence, how- 
 ever, at last proved their ruin. The astute Veientes soon 
 perceived that if they were to be overcome, it must be by 
 taking advantage of their bravery and daring, rather than 
 opposing them by strength. An ambuscade was laid ; 
 herds of cattle were driven within sight of the fortress they 
 had erected, with a plain lying between ; the Romans 
 immediately going in pursuit. Whilst they were dispersed 
 in securing the cattle, the Veientes rose up on every side of 
 them, pressing them until the whole band was confined 
 within a narrow circle, fighting valiantly. Thus beset, they 
 formed themselves into the shape of a wedge, and laying 
 their strength upon one spot, forced their way out, and 
 ascended a neighbouring acclivity, by this means obtaining 
 
172 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 a temporary advantage. Their valour, however, availed 
 them little, for the enemy, sending round large detach- 
 ments, poured upon them from higher ground ; so that they 
 every one fell, fighting to the last man on the spot they 
 occupied. It • is said that the whole family of the Fabii 
 here perished, excepting one youth left in Rome to prolong 
 the race. 
 
 After this the Veientes once more occupied the Janicu- 
 lum, even crossing the Tiber and penetrating as far as the 
 temple of Hope, which stood near the modern Porta Mag- 
 giore. They were however eventually driven from their 
 position, and retired to their own city. 
 
 The Veientes afterwards allied themselves with the 
 Fidenates, many subsequent engagements occurring be- 
 tween the united armies and the Romans, some of which 
 have already been described, as taking place near Fidenae. 
 
 At last the Romans determined to bring about an ulti- 
 mate trial, and, if possible, to entirely destroy their city, as 
 they had done the cities of Fidenae and Alba. This reso- 
 lution, however, was at first frustrated by a new alliance 
 which the Veientes formed with the Capenates and the 
 Falisci, and the quarrels which took place between the two 
 Roman generals Sergius and Virginius. The antagonistic 
 commanders were recalled and new ones appointed. The 
 object of the Roman army was to cut off all their supplies, 
 as well by keeping a close guard around the city as by 
 depopulating the neighbouring country, and destroying 
 the produce. In this position of affairs, significance was 
 given to a circumstance, the connection of which with the 
 matter in hand is not altogether obvious-. The Avaters of 
 the Alban lake had risen to an unusual height, it was said, 
 without any apparent cause ; no niin having fallen at that 
 time. A commission was sent to the Delphic oracle to 
 learn what might be portended by this extraordinary 
 occurrence. Whilst they were away it was delivered by 
 an old Veientine soothsayer in the form of a prophecy, that 
 Veii could never be taken until the waters of the Alban 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDEN^ TO SCORANO. 173 
 
 lake should find their way by an artificial outlet to the sea. 
 The old man was decoyed from Veii, under pretence of 
 consultation on some other matter, and then carried forcibly 
 into the Roman camp, where he repeated what he had 
 previously disclosed, describing how the desired object was 
 to be attained. All that the old seer had uttered was con- 
 firmed by the message of the oracle. The prescribed work 
 was at once entered upon. The side of the hill, within 
 whose hollow basin the lake lay, was pierced with a tunnel, 
 and the waters drained ofif to a considerable depth. The 
 tunnel remains to this day, still serving the purpose for 
 which it was first formed. The significance of the fact may 
 lie in the suggestion of carrying a mine into Veii. It could 
 hardly, however, have taught the Romans the first use of 
 such an expedient, since they had already taken Fidenae by 
 the same means. 
 
 A new impetus was given to the war by the appointment 
 of Marcus Furius Camillus to the dictatorship. His popu- 
 larity and energy at once organised the whole proceeding. 
 He made fresh levies of troops at Rome, doing away with 
 the harassing and random skirmishes in which the Romans 
 had been in the habit of engaging, concentrating the whole 
 forces of the army to the special object in view. A mine 
 was commenced at some distance from the city. The 
 pioneers were divided into six companies, working night 
 and day, six hours, consecutive labour allotted to each 
 company in rotation. 
 
 When the city was on the point of being taken, Camillus 
 sent to Rome to know what was to be done with the spoil. 
 After many differences of opinion, it was finally proclaimed 
 through the streets of Rome that such of the inhabitants as 
 wished to share the plunder of the city about to fall into 
 their hands might go to the camp for that purpose. When 
 all was in readiness, Camillus vowed a tenth part of the spoil 
 to the god Apollo, and making a feint of attacking the city 
 on various sides, as the soldiers ran to the walls, the mine 
 was suddenly burst open in the very heart of the citadel. 
 
174 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 and as was said, within the temple of Juno. An incident is 
 added, for the truth of which, however, the old historians do 
 not vouch. At the moment of bursting up the mine the 
 king of Veii stood about to offer up the entrails of a certain 
 animal on the altar of Juno, when it was declared that 
 whoever should make that offering should be victorious 
 over the enemy. The Roman soldiers, hearing this, sud- 
 denly emerged, and seizing the sacrifice, themselves placed 
 it upon the altar ; thus assuring themselves the victory. 
 Immediately the whole city was in an uproar. Armed men 
 poured in on every hand. Fire and slaughter did their 
 fearful work, until the dictator caused it to be proclaimed 
 that those who laid down their arms would be spared. 
 Every article of value was seized by the Romans, and the 
 inhabitants sold into slavery, the money being applied to 
 the public treasury. Youths selected from the army, purified 
 and arrayed in white, were appointed to lay reverential 
 •hands on the sacred images and bear them carefully away 
 with much ceremony. When they came to the statue of 
 Juno, which occupied the temple, she was asked if she were 
 willing to go to Rome, when, it was said, she bowed her 
 head in token of assent. This statue was taken to the 
 Aventine hill, where Juno held " her eternal seat ;" Camillus 
 subsequently raising there a temple to her honour. 
 
 Thus fell the great city of Veii, the wealthiest of the 
 Etruscan nation, three hundred and ninety-six years before 
 the birth of Christ, impregnable by attack from without, 
 after a long ten years' siege of summers and winters, during 
 which time its enemy always suffered more than itself, art 
 and not force having been its final overthrow. 
 
 Great was the joy at Rome on the destruction of the old 
 enemy. Before the senate could prescribe any religious 
 ceremonial the temples were crowded with matrons pouring 
 out their thanksgivings to the gods for the great victory. A 
 four days' supplication was appointed — more than had been 
 decreed at any other war. The whole city went forth to 
 meet Camillus with the highest demonstrations of joy. 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDEN.E TO SCORANO. 175 
 
 His triumph was an honourable one : though there arose 
 some difficulty afterwards about the fulfilment of the vow 
 Camillus had made of the dedication of the tenth part of 
 the spoils to Apollo, since it was found hard to force the 
 people to give up from what they had taken that which 
 was necessary to acquit the sacred promise. 
 
 From that time Veii became lost as an independent city 
 • — indeed could be scarcely said to survive as a city at all — 
 serving only as an unimportant Roman colony. It had been 
 proposed, as already stated, after the disastrous battle of 
 the Allia that Rome itself should be transferred thither, in 
 order to save the rebuilding of the houses and other struc- 
 tures destroyed at that time ; from which circumstance one 
 may gain some idea of the importance of the Etruscan city. 
 Many families indeed had already established themselves 
 there, but they were afterwards recalled by decree of the 
 senate, which made it an offence punishable with death for 
 any Roman to remain at Veii beyond a prescribed period. 
 Gradually it fell into decay, without any subsequent history 
 of importance. 
 
 There is now very little of it left, but that little is full of 
 interest and significance. The position in itself is so re- 
 markable as to make a great deal apparent as to its ancient 
 condition, whilst it is interesting to trace out, partly by 
 speculation and partly by description, much of which there 
 are only left obscure indications. The roads by which it 
 was reached are still to be seen cut deep down into the 
 solid rock so as to form lofty escarpments on each side. The 
 rock itself is of distinctive volcanic origin, consisting of 
 masses of black pumice reposing on an aqueous deposit of 
 ashes ; the former bearing all the appearance of a fresh 
 eruption. Ruts are traceable at the sides of some of these 
 roads, which are very narrow ; only capable of admitting one 
 vehicle at a time. The positions of the gateways are also 
 still to be discerned by grooves and other marks in the rock. 
 The arx, or main citadel, has been supposed by most archae- 
 ologists to have occupied the position of the modern hamlet 
 
176 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 of Isola Farnese, which Is the most elevated part of the 
 whole area, and nearly inclosed by the two streams flowing 
 into the Due Fossi ; its precipitous sides having been cut 
 away to form the sole road up to it. Sir William Gell, 
 however^ and Canina, the celebrated Italian archaeologist, 
 place it at the western extremity. Both of these are strong 
 positions, but it seems to me that the former is rather more 
 so than the latter. Sir William Gell's theory of the exclu- 
 sion of this part from the city on account of the tombs 
 found excavated in its sides, neither the Etruscans nor the 
 Romans being accustomed to bury their dead within their 
 cities, has been generally rejected, since it is not likely that 
 the Veientes would have allowed so impregnable a point in 
 so close proximity to the city to be exposed to the occupa- 
 tion of an enemy. 
 
 Passing round the city by the mill before mentioned we 
 come to the spot where were found the columns which now 
 ornament the front of the post-office in the Piazza Colonna 
 at Rome, and some others placed in the basilica of St. Paul 
 outside the walls. It is conjectured that they formed a part 
 of the Forum. Still farther, we arrive at the Ponte Sodo, a 
 tunnelled cutting made through the rock in order to admit 
 the passage of the river. Following the same direction, one 
 of the finest known Etruscan tombs is to be seen excavated 
 in the rock. It was discovered by Campana in eighteen 
 hundred and forty-two, being left pretty much as it was found, 
 some gold fillets only having been carried away from it. It is 
 entered by a passage cut into the rock, guarded by two lions 
 in marble : two more keep the door. The tomb consists of 
 a double chamber, which is supposed to represent more or 
 less accurately the form of an Etruscan house. The walls 
 are painted in grotesque forms of men and animals, the roof 
 being shaped into imitation beams and rafters. Vases and 
 other vessels are set about, some of them painted with 
 curious caricature figures. Most interesting of all, on shelves 
 or couches cut in the rock on either side of the door, when it 
 was first opened, lay a human skeleton, which the air soon 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDEN.E TO SCORANO. 177 
 
 crumbled into dust. One of them wore a helmet — there it 
 lies yet — pierced by a lance-thrust ; doubtless the death- 
 blow to him who wore it. It is strange that there was no 
 name or indication in any part of the tomb which might 
 attach a personality to these dusty children of oblivion, who 
 must nevertheless have been of some distinction in their 
 time. Remains of other sepulchres are found in its neigh- 
 bourhood, which probably constituted the chief necropolis of 
 the city. But, indeed, there are many of them in various 
 parts of the outer city, some of which are utilised as sheep- 
 cotes and cellars, on the ceilings of which can be generally 
 discerned the form of beam and rafter which characterises 
 these strange habitations of the dead. Passing onwards, 
 fragments of the walls of the old city are seen here and there, 
 consisting of huge blocks of tufa. A little farther we come 
 to the remains of the Roman municipium or colony founded 
 after the subjugation of Veii, which only covered a moiety 
 of the site of the Etruscan city. Here were found colossal 
 heads of Augustus and Tiberius, together with a large statue 
 of the latter crowned with oak ; now in the Vatican museum. 
 The Roman character of this part of the city is distinguish- 
 able by the grey walls of some columbaria which rise out of 
 the tangled brushwood, their empty recesses exposed to 
 the full glare of the sun. These once contained the ashes 
 of the dead, mourned over, wept over, prayed over ; but 
 oblivion has long since sealed them his own, not even re- 
 garding the pious D.M. that consigned them to the keeping 
 of the divinities of the dead, nor leaving any record of where 
 they are sown except the summer flowers which bloom from 
 their dust. These grow in luxuriant beauty from every 
 crevice, and lay their tender faces against the crumbling 
 stone, as if witnesses of the frailty of humanity. 
 
 It is perhaps no wonder that there should be so 
 little of this city of three thousand years ago left to us. 
 Propertius tells us that at the commencement of the Chris- 
 tian era it was a half-obliterated ruin. ** O, ancient Veii," 
 he says, apostrophising it in the spirit of ancient times, 
 
178 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 " thou also wert then a city, and the golden chair of state 
 was set within thy forum. Now within your walls the 
 shepherd gently winds his horn and harvests are reaped 
 among your bones."* Also Lucan tells us in the first 
 Christian century, '* All the name of Latium has become a 
 fable ; hardly can the dust-covered ruins point out to us 
 Gabii, Veii and Cora."t 
 
 Previously to our journey up the river, Mr. Hemans and 
 I had spent a few days at La Storta ; a little roadside inn, 
 on the ancient Via Cassia, a short distance from Veii, which 
 is now called Isola Farnese. The elevated position 
 generally supposed to have been that of the citadel of the 
 ancient city is now occupied by an old baronial mansion 
 built in the fifteenth century by the Colonna family in their 
 contentions with the Orsini. It is a dreary-looking tene- 
 ment, and appears to be fast falling to decay. It is spotted 
 with putlog holes, pierced with unglazed windows, and 
 hung with forlorn wreaths of dark green ivy and a rank 
 growth of pellitory-of-the-wall. It includes a large court 
 which constitutes for the most part the modern hamlet, than 
 which nothing can be more miserable. The houses are of 
 the worst ever seen even in Italy, and they are shared 
 by pigs, hens, and dogs. The misery and wretchedness of 
 the place is oppressive. Just outside of the walls is a 
 chapel, the service of which is supplied by some distant priest 
 or friar in orders : and even the sanctuary of their religion, 
 generally cared for more or less scrupulously, is here filled 
 with the accumulated dust and dirt of years. The people 
 seem to be living without a thought of anything better, in 
 absolute ignorance, neglect and misery. 
 
 * Et Veii veteres et vos turn regna fiiistis, 
 Et vestro posita est aurea sella foro. 
 Nunc intra muros pastoris buccina lenti 
 Gantat, et in vestris ossibus arva metunt. 
 
 Lib. iv. el. lo. 
 t Tunc omne Latinum 
 Fabula nomen erit : Gabios, Veiosque, Goramque 
 Pulvere vix tectae poterunt monstrare ruinas. 
 
 Phar. vli. 391. 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENyE TO SCO R A NO. 
 
 79 
 
 To go over the ground once occupied by this important 
 city is almost like traversing a grave-yard. Where strong- 
 holds arose and a powerful people found their dwelling 
 the dog-rose and the red poppy bloom uncropped ; yellow 
 broom grows where once have been streets and centres of 
 business and gossip ; the wild fig splits the crumbling wall ; 
 the untrained and wasted vine, whose ancestral grape may 
 have given heart to the Veientine soldier against his Roman 
 foe, straggles hither and thither at will. As we forced our 
 way through the tangled brushwood and over hillocks that 
 marked the place of buried ruins, I saw a fox stealing by the 
 woodside. The only sounds that met our ears were the cry 
 of the quail, the shriek of the grasshopper, and the melody 
 of the song bird undisturbed in these secluded regions ; but 
 all seemed to be tinged with a melancholy tone, made 
 sadder by the hoot of an owl, which from the recesses in the 
 wood, forgetting his proper season in the gloom by which 
 he was surrounded, awoke the sleeping sunshine of mid-day 
 with a loud " to-whoo !" 
 
 And yet one scarcely knew why it should have appeared so 
 melancholy ; for it was beautiful — intensely beautiful. The 
 feathery foliage clomb the steep bank, taking a silvery aureole 
 from the sun ; larks were loud in the sky; the sound of falling 
 waters came to us, murmuring pleasantly ; the earth opened 
 its most brilliantly coloured flowers ; butterflies fluttered 
 everywhere ; the rocky shelves were as green as garden 
 terraces, whilst picturesque-looking maidens went down to 
 the fountain with quaint pitchers balanced sidelong on their 
 heads — the fountain a cool and mossy nook of flickering 
 lights and shadows. But the past lay upon it all — the tale 
 of glory departed — the harvest of time reaped in overgrown 
 heaps of wasting stone and barren hillocks of nameless dust. 
 
 Returning once more to the Tiber, and pursuing our way 
 upwards, a little past Fidenae and on the same side of the 
 river, the stream of the Allia flows into it It is famous as 
 marking the site of an important engagement between the 
 Romans and the Gauls which took place upon its banks. 
 
i8o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 Up to about three huhdred and sixty years from the 
 foundation of the city of Rome, or three hundred and 
 ninety years before the birth of Christ, the repubhc had 
 beeii- steadily increasing in power without having received 
 any absolutely disastrous reverses ; but at this time, whether 
 from the over-population of their own territory, or, as some 
 say, the inducement of the wine, or for whatever other 
 reason, Italy became overrun by the Gauls, a half-civilized, 
 transalpine race, who poured upon the country, producing 
 confusion and ruin wherever they passed. After having 
 devastated many parts of north Italy, they reached so far 
 south as Clusium, the modern Chiusi, a city of Etruria, be- 
 tween Siena and Orvieto. Beset by an enemy so numerous 
 and formidable, bearing strange arms and of unaccus- 
 tomed aspect, the terrified Clusians sought to obtain the aid 
 of Rome against their unknown foe. Negotiations with the 
 Gauls were entered into ; but on their requiring land to be 
 given to them for a colonial settlement, diplomacy was 
 broken off with mutual reprisals, finally ending in an appeal 
 to the sword. At once they started for Rome, without 
 stopping to commit any depredations by the way. It was 
 only at the eleventh milestone from the city, where the 
 river Allia, descending from the Crustumerian hills in ^ very 
 deep channel, joins the Tiber, not far from the road, that 
 the Romans thought of opposing them. It would appear 
 that they looked upon the circumstance with the most im- 
 prudent indifference ; not regarding the large force of the 
 enemy, nor their ardour in fighting, nor their desperate 
 ferocity. The Roman army was drawn up in the face of 
 the enemy, the reserves being placed on a small eminence 
 at the right. The Gauls, instead of meeting the body of 
 the army in the open plain, at once attacked the reserves and 
 routed them, which had such an effect upon the other troops 
 that they were seized with a panic, and at once took to flight 
 almost without striking a blow, some of them swimming 
 the Tiber and taking refuge even in the inimical Veii, some 
 being drowned in its waters ; such of the rest who were 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDEN^ TO SCORANO. i8i 
 
 fortunate enough to escape with their lives, hurrying to 
 Rome the nearest way ; large numbers of slain being left 
 on the field. The Romans and their allies in this fight 
 numbered forty thousand, whilst their enemies cou. .ed as 
 many as seventy thousand. 
 
 At this sudden stroke of fortune the Gauls themselves 
 wondered, and could hardly believe that it was not some 
 feint on the part of the Romans to entrap them into further 
 danger : but at last seeing that no one- returned to molest 
 them, they began to collect the arms and spoils of the slain 
 and to think of going to Rome. 
 
 Here the local narrative might terminate with the ghastly 
 spectacle the round midsummer moon saw that night as it 
 rose over the groaning plains, but it will be scarcely out of 
 place to follow it a little farther. 
 
 On reaching Rome, which they did the same evening, 
 the Gauls were still more amazed to find the gates left 
 open, and no apparent preparation of defence made against 
 them. Dreading an ambuscade, they encamped beneath 
 the walls that night and the following day, endeavouring 
 to frighten the inhabitants of the city by loud cries and 
 discordant noises. The senate, seeing the imminence of the 
 danger, withdrew the fighting population, together with 
 what stores and munition could be procured, to the citadel 
 of the Capitol, there entrenching themselves in the best 
 manner they were able, leaving the non-warlike and the 
 aged to do the best they could ; the latter, who themselves 
 had borne honours and occupied important and elevated 
 positions, consoling the people with their own willingness 
 to suffer anything rather than that the whole city and 
 nation should be destroyed. One may picture the misery 
 and confusion of this moment : the entire population, 
 including women and children, rushing about hither and 
 thither ; the vestal virgins bearing away the sacred relics ; 
 the ex-officials arranging themselves in the dignity of their 
 disused robes and calmly awaiting the advent of the enemy. 
 In the meantime the Gauls began to distribute themselves 
 
 O 
 
i82 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap VII. 
 
 throughout the city, but with mistrust and timidity, afraid to 
 enter even the open doors of the houses, and awed by the 
 venerable and majestic figures of the aged patricians sitting 
 in the porches of their palaces, until a Gaul, bolder than 
 the rest, stretching forth his hand and stroking the white 
 beard of one of them, as if to assure himself of his reality, 
 was immediately struck with the ivory staff he held in his 
 hand. This was the signal for an immediate slaughter. 
 All suffered that came under the sword ; the houses were 
 plundered and set on fire ; devastation and terror reigned 
 everywhere. For several days the defenders of the citadel 
 watched the burning of their houses and the slaughter of 
 their wives and children with distracted hearts, but still 
 maintained their guard manfully, and when at last the 
 Gauls, wearied with the work of destruction, attacked the 
 citadel itself, they were defeated with dreadful losses ; so 
 that they dared not repeat the attempt. Neither, indeed, 
 durst the Romans emerge to fight in the open. Thus 
 worsted, and much in want of supplies, the Gallic army 
 divided itself; the one half remaining to besiege the citadel, 
 and the other roaming the surrounding country in search of 
 plunder. 
 
 Now it happened in the course of this marauding ex- 
 pedition that amongst other places they lighted on the 
 city of Ardea, the capital of the Rutulian territory, not far 
 from the sea-coast, about twenty miles south of Rome, to 
 which place Camillus had been driven under the accusation 
 of having personally appropriated certain Etruscan spoils, 
 but really for his humanity and justice towards the con- 
 quered Falisci, whose city he would not allow to be sacked. 
 Fired with the indignities his people were suffering, and 
 magnanimously forgetful of his own wrongs, the exiled 
 hero strove to incite the Ardeates to emulate the prowess 
 of Rome, and build up to themselves an honourable name 
 by rescuing it from its present dire calamities. His appeal 
 was not disregarded. Issuing from the gates at night 
 under his direction they found the Gallic troops lying in 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENjE TO SCORANO. 183 
 
 unguarded sleep, gorged with wine and victuals, the fruits 
 of spoliation and pillage. Attacking them thus, supine and 
 defenceless, they were very easily defeated, fleeing to all 
 parts of the surrounding country, some to Antium, where 
 they were cut off from their comrades and slaughtered by 
 the inhabitants ; others to the Veientine territory : these, 
 however, being not only unmolested but succoured by the 
 Veientes, who took the opportunity of revenging themselves 
 on Rome in this its sore extremity, attacking the Ardeian 
 troops, and then returning to Veii with much satisfaction 
 and a great deal of noisy rejoicing. 
 
 But when the Romans who had fled from the battle of 
 the AUia and were now detained as prisoners in Veii heard 
 of the success which Camillus had had against the Gauls, 
 they began greatly to bewail their own and their fellow- 
 citizens' folly in having banished so able a general and 
 upright a man from Rome, lamenting that he was not once 
 more at their head, when they felt assured that a master- 
 stroke might be made in their favour. Their desire was 
 not allowed to waste itself in idle complaints. They 
 contrived means to have a proposition conveyed to Camillus 
 that he should place himself at their head as commander. 
 He, however, refused to undertake the ofiice excepting by 
 special appointment of the senate of Rome. In this 
 difficulty a young man named Pontius Cominius came 
 forward, proffering his services to go to Rome to obtain it. 
 Disguising himself as a peasant, on arriving at the gates he 
 cast himself into the river, sustained by corks, and swim- 
 ming to the Capitol, climbed up the steep side of it with 
 great difficulty, and then, after stating his errand and 
 witnessing the appointment of Camillus as dictator, returned 
 in the same manner. 
 
 In the morning some Gauls passing round the base of 
 the Capitol saw traces of footmarks, and after proving the 
 practicability of the ascent, a party was organised to attempt 
 the citadel on the following night. Already had they 
 reached the summit without any alarm, when the sacred 
 
 O 2 
 
i84 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 geese kept at the temple of Juno, prowling about half- 
 starved, hissing and cackling, awoke the whole camp, who, 
 falling upon the Gauls, quickly routed them, killing some 
 and throwing others down the rock. 
 
 In the meantime Camillus busied himself in organising 
 his army, matters growing worse and worse with the 
 Romans. Famine looked them in the face and sickness 
 and weakness seized them for a prey. Neither w^ere the 
 besiegers much better off. The burnt and burning ashes 
 of the houses blown into their camp almost suffocated 
 them, fever raged in their midst ; so dreadful, indeed, was 
 the mortality on this occasion that the heaped remains of 
 their dead, after being partially consumed by fire, remained 
 in the form of a large mound which subsequently gave a 
 name to that part of the city. 
 
 At last, when endurance could hold out no longer on 
 either side, an armistice was proposed and arrangements 
 for peace entered upon. The Gauls demanded a thousand 
 pounds weight of gold as requisition. As it was being 
 weighed it was found that the besiegers had furnished false 
 weights for the purpose. On the Romans remonstrating 
 against this perfidy it is said that Brennus the Gallic chief 
 scornfully flung his sword into the balance, proclaiming, 
 "Woe to the vanquished." At this precise juncture, 
 Camillus and his troops arrived on the scene. Camillus 
 immediately seized the gold in the scales and handed it to 
 the senators, saying that Rome was accustomed to redeem 
 itself with iron and not with gold. When told that he was 
 breaking a compact already concluded, he replied that he 
 alone by right of his oflfice of dictator had power to enter 
 upon such an engagement, and that by his permission it 
 had never been made. A sharp conflict immediately ensued 
 in which the Gauls suffered severe losses, decamping the 
 same night and leaving the city. The next morning 
 Camillus followed and routed the invaders, whose destruc- 
 tion was completed by the peasants and other inhabitants 
 of the surrounding country, who all rose up against them. 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENAC TO S CORA NO. 185 
 
 Livy says that Camillus saved Rome twice in dissuading 
 the inhabitants from abandoning it altogether for Veii after 
 this terrible invasion. 
 
 Near this spot was also fought a subsequent battle 
 between the Romans and the inhabitants of Praeneste, in 
 which the latter were defeated. 
 
 A little distance past the junction of the Cremera with 
 the Tiber, somewhat removed from the left bank, is the 
 villa of Livia, the dignified and matronly wife of Augustus. 
 Her real character is almost as inscrutable as was that of 
 her imperial husband. It is thus given by the historian 
 Tacitus. " In her domestic deportment she was formed 
 after the model of primitive sanctity, but with more affa- 
 bility than was allowed by ladies of old : as a mother 
 zealous and determined; as a wife kind and indulgent; 
 well adapted to the fastidious and complex character of 
 her husband, and the subtle nature of her son " [Tiberius]. 
 Doubtless here she spent many hours of pleasant leisure in 
 the company of Augustus in his holiday retirements from 
 the cares of state. It is within easy reach of Rome, about 
 seven miles from the Flaminian Gate. The place was called 
 Prima Porta, being thq first halting-place from Rome : nine 
 miles distant from the Golden Milestone at the foot of the 
 Capitol. Suetonius gives a whimsical story of the original 
 foundation of this villa in his life of Galba. He says that 
 soon after her marriage with Augustus, Livia once went to 
 visit this estate, situated in the Veientine territory, when an 
 eagle let fall a white chicken into her lap, carrying a sprig 
 of laurel in its mouth. She planted the laurel, which grew 
 and flourished. From the progeny of this sprig the crowns 
 of the Caesars were subsequently woven for festivals, its 
 growth corresponding with their welfare. The fowl, too, 
 was prolific. Dion Cassius says that the death of Nero, 
 who was the last of the Augustan race descended from 
 iEneas, was presaged by the withering away of the laurels, 
 and the extinction of the race of fowls. 
 
 When H. and I visited this place from Rome, whilst 
 
i86 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 we were reposing in the osteria after a warm walk, we sent 
 to inquire if we could have the key to inspect the villa, 
 which was in the keeping of the parish priest. Presently 
 the messenger came back to say that the priest was ill in 
 bed, and that we could not have the key. Upon this we 
 went ourselves to the house where he lived. The door was 
 opened by a girl, who began to tell the same story. The 
 priest, however, hearing our voices, made his appearance 
 fully dressed, at the top of the stairs, and said that there 
 had been some Germans there a few days before, who 
 would only give half a franc for having the door of the villa 
 opened. " Now," he said, " it is a very unreasonable thing 
 that a person should go into those damp chambers and 
 take a fever for so small a consideration as half a franc." 
 H. and I both agreed that it was highly unreasonable 
 under the circumstances ; and promising to satisfy the 
 bearer of the key with a sufficient donation, a man was 
 sent to accompany us. 
 
 At present there is but a small portion of the villa 
 excavated. On the walls of one of the chambers, thickly 
 leaved branches, intermingled with fruit and flowers and 
 birds, are painted in distemper. They are executed with 
 much spirit and power from a realistic point of view, so as 
 to form a very refreshing and beautiful series of objects for 
 the eye to rest upon. Many valuable works of art were 
 found here, the most important of which was the fine 
 statue of Augustus now forming one of the treasures of the 
 Vatican museum. The villa stands upon an eminence 
 commanding a charming view of the surrounding country. 
 At its foot the river winds through green banks bordered 
 with delicate foliage. Beyond are seen the baie slopes of 
 Antemnae, and more to the north the solitary old feudal 
 ^ tenement that marks the site of Fidenae, standing where once 
 the formidable Acropolis shone in the light of the morn- 
 ing sun, or burned like a flame in the glow of the evening 
 red. On the other side, the Via Flaminia wanders towards 
 Rome under the bare, blank bluffs of the Saxa Rubra. 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDEN^ TO SCORANO. 1S7 
 
 About two miles beyond Fidense, on the same side of the 
 river, is a group of farm-buildings, bearing the name of 
 Marcigliana, which look more like some sturdy mediaeval 
 fortress than the centre of quiet agricultural labour. They 
 are situated at a considerable elevation, and inclose a 
 spacious court, whose grass-grown pavement and wasted 
 walls give an eery aspect of desolation to the place. It has 
 been surmised that the ancient Latian city, Crustumerium, 
 once occupied this height. It is true that Sir William Gell 
 and some others have fixed upon Monte Rotondo as being 
 the more probable site ; but the proximity of that town to 
 Mentana, the undoubted position of the ancient Nomentum, 
 and its more remote distance from the river, have caused 
 other archaeologists to give this the preference. Besides, 
 Kircher, in his Latium Vetus, published in sixteen hundred 
 and seventy, says that it was noticeable for its remains of 
 ancient edifices, and though few or no traces of these are 
 left, they may have been used in the fabrication of the 
 building which now occupies the summit. 
 
 Crustumerium was one of the most ancient cities of 
 Latium, said to have been founded by the Alban king 
 Silvius Latinus, who opposed ^Eneas on his first arrival in 
 that part of Italy. It is mentioned by Virgil as one of the 
 first cities which forged, arms for the war.* The Latin 
 poet Silius Italicus speaks of it as being of later origin 
 than Antemnae.t It is first heard of in history as being 
 one of the allies against Romulus after the rape of the 
 Sabine women, when it was conquered by him, and made a 
 Roman colony. It scarcely appears to have had an inde- 
 pendent existence afterwards, and probably soon fell into 
 decay, since it is mentioned by Pliny as one of the extinct 
 cities of Latium. It, however, gave the name to a district 
 and to a Roman tribe. Its territory was very fruitful, rich 
 
 * Quinque adeo magnae positis incudibus urbes 
 Tela novant, Atina potens, Tiburque superbum. 
 Ardea, Crustumerique, et turrigerae Antemnae, Mn. vii. 631. 
 
 t Antemnaque prisco 
 Crustumio prior. 
 
-I88 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 in corn, and famous for its pears. It sent supplies of the 
 former in boats to Rome during a famine, which being 
 detained and pillaged by the Fidenates, caused the Romans 
 to make their first war against them. 
 
 Marcigliana is a large farm, chiefly dairy. The agricultural 
 implements lying about could not have been simpler or 
 ruder if they had belonged to the days of Virgil. So 
 unprogressive is the Italian mind, so indifl"erent or incapable 
 in all arts of contrivance, that as we were going by one of 
 the outbuildings, we saw some men actually making butter 
 in large mugs by stirring the cream about with unwashed 
 hands. This was not, it must be recollected, at a mountain 
 hovel, where a miserable cow might eke out the scant 
 subsistence of a few poverty-stricken wretches shut out 
 from intercourse with the rest of the world, but on one of 
 the largest farms of the Campagna, almost within sight of 
 the walls of Rome, belonging, I believe, to one of its noblest 
 families, and managed, I suppose, by the professed mercaiite 
 di Campagna. Amidst such a condition of things, of which 
 this is only a sample, one would naturally ask, what is the 
 meaning of the word proprietorship in Italy, or if such a 
 term as Useful Arts is to be found in their dictionary. 
 
 From Marcigliana, the river-country presents soft, well- 
 wooded slopes, whose delicately-pencilled outlines, changing 
 every moment in the upward passage of the stream, undergo 
 a thousand variations, each more beautiful than the other. 
 The banks are fired with yellow broom. The tortuous 
 sweeps of the river present broad flat surfaces to the sky, 
 mingling its reflected azure wath the hue of its yellow waters. 
 Long-horned cattle stand upon the banks, gazing curiously. 
 One turn after another goes by, until we reach the mediaeval 
 town of Monte Rotondo. 
 
 Monte Rotondo is about fifteen miles from Rome. It 
 offers no particular point of interest excepting its picturesque 
 situation and old baronial residence, so large in its propor- 
 tions as to appear to compose a considerable part of the 
 town. It would seem that the lord of the manor in Italy 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENM TO SCORANO. 
 
 always considered himself bound to raise a huge pile of 
 buildings on his territory, dignified by the name of palace, 
 as an evidence of, and testimony to, his title of possession, 
 afterwards to be allowed to fall into decay, a tenement for 
 owls and rats. We are accustomed in England to associate 
 such residences with the occupation of the owners for at 
 least a part of the year, and to see them surrounded with 
 some little tokens of care for the tenantry and neighbours. 
 Here it is different. A landlord scarcely ever delights in 
 the improvement of his estate, but simply sets it under a 
 management interesting and curious as a relic of mediaeval 
 practice, being content to receive the emolument from it 
 without further trouble. There are not the least indications 
 of the slightest care or attention bestowed on dependents in 
 the neighbourhood of such central mansions. Often enough 
 their courts are the dirtiest parts of the whole town, and 
 the beggar sits on their door-steps. It is pitiable, where so 
 much that is required might be done, to see nothing what- 
 ever attempted. Perhaps the friar of a neighbouring con- 
 vent may give some desultory instruction to the miserable 
 people, himself scarcely less unlearned ; but by those who 
 ought to take an interest in the welfare of their fellow- 
 creatures, from whom they reap the means to live above 
 the fatigues of labour, nothing whatever appears to be done. 
 No legislation nor any appointed system of public educa- 
 tion can compensate for the social defect of the mutual 
 influences of the classes. It is not in the least the result 
 of pride or superciliousness. These are quite unknown in 
 Italy as they exist in England. It is pure indifference. 
 There is money in Italy, there is time in Italy, there is 
 good sound common sense and plenty of good feeling in 
 Italy ; but who shall arouse the Italian mind from the 
 apathy and indifference in regard to social elevation in 
 which it lies } Who shall show it that the most ignoble 
 slavery may subsist beneath the very flag of Freedom — the 
 slavery of Ignorance, Dirt, and Idleness } Well, indeed, 
 has the wise Massimo d'Azeglio said, the enemies of Italy 
 
I90 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII, 
 
 have not been those of Austria and France, but rather 
 those within her own shores, and in her own bosom. A 
 natural poHteness, that crowning grace of Christian breed- 
 ing, a sweetness of manner and amiabihty of disposition 
 beyond parallel in any of the nations of Europe with which 
 I am acquainted, a kindliness and warmth of feeling quite 
 exemplary, a sharpness and aptitude of perception and 
 judgment not infrequently reaching to a very large wisdom, 
 make the absence of energy and enthusiasm in what is true 
 and right, the want of thoroughness, transparency, and self- 
 respect, all the more bitterly felt and keenly regretted. This 
 regret becomes a wonder when one remembers such names 
 as Carlo Borromeo, Gregory the Great, Savonarola, Arnoldo 
 di Brescia and a few others of more modern times, to whom 
 a pure and energetic individual life and the enlargement 
 and elevation of the human race were the crown and aim 
 of all their desires and labours. To every philanthropist it 
 must be a matter of deep pain to see how much young 
 Italy has in its power : how little it uses its capabilities and 
 opportunities in living in and teaching the great law that the 
 only way to moral and social elevation and national great- 
 ness lies in an absolutely ruling and entirely uncompromis- 
 ing personal self-respect — a love of right for right's sake 
 and of truth because it is true. 
 
 This is a digression ; but Monte Rotondo must be 
 answerable for the delinquency. It unavoidably points to 
 some such reflections. They belong to it as much as its 
 history, although it is by no means unique in the charac- 
 teristics here dwelt upon. 
 
 Its history is not a remarkable one, though eventful 
 enough. The town is first mentioned in a papal bull of 
 the year one thousand and seventy-four. It went through 
 the usual mediaeval sieges, burnings and outrages. It was 
 closely implicated in the quarrels of the Orsini and 
 Colonni — those public brawlers of the middle ages — of the 
 former of whom it was a stronghold ; and thence, after 
 several changes, passed under the rule of the Church. It 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDEN^ TO SCORANO. 19] 
 
 was between here and Mentana that the conflict between 
 the papal troops, assisted by the French, and the Gari- 
 baldians took place in eighteen hundred and sixty-seven, 
 when the latter were defeated. The baronial palace of the 
 Orsini mentioned above is a fine example of the ancient 
 fortified mansion of more disturbed times. It is sur- 
 mounted by a lofty square tower, overlooking a vast 
 extent of the Campagna ; its old turrets and walls 
 crumbling to decay with damp and neglect. 
 
 Somewhat more than a mile to the south-west of Monte 
 Rotondo is Mentana, the ancient Nomentum. Dionysius 
 says that it was founded at the same time with Crus- 
 tumerium and Fidenae. Virgil, also, in the meeting of 
 ^neas with his father in the Elysian fields makes Anchises 
 say, " What youths are there ! See what mighty vigour 
 they display, and bear brows shaded with the civic oak ! 
 These for your posterity shall build Nomentum, and Gabii, 
 and the city of Fidenae."* Thus it may be considered to 
 have been one of the earliest colonial cities founded by the 
 Alban kings. It was subjected to Rome by Tarquinius 
 Priscus ; but afterwards joined the cities of the Latin 
 League (of which there were thirty, including this), in the 
 endeavour to reinstate the banished Tarquins on the 
 throne of Rome. It is the only one of those ancient cities 
 still left inhabited. Once, when Rome was hard beset 
 with pestilence, and many earthquakes had occurred to 
 affright and dispirit the inhabitants, its old enemies 
 seized the opportunity of making incursions into its 
 territory, committing great depredations. Aulus Servilius 
 being appointed dictator, called all those to arms who were 
 able to bear them ; and attacking the Etrurians on the 
 high ground of Nomentum, routed them and drove them 
 into the city of Fidenae, which resulted in its final capture 
 
 * Qui juvenes quantas ostentant, aspice, vires ! 
 At, qui umbrata gerunt civili tempora quercu, 
 Hi tibi Nomentum, et Gabios, urbemque Fidenam, 
 Hi Gollatinas imponent montibus arces. 
 
 An. vi. 771. 
 
192 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 by means of a mine, as already related. It finds no 
 mention in the later periods of history. It is, however, 
 frequently named by classical writers. Strabo alludes to 
 it as the " small city of Nomentum." Ovid, at the end of 
 the fourth book of the Fasti, describes a curious procession 
 of persons arrayed in white that he met as he was re- 
 turning from the city, who with great ceremony were 
 going to offer the entrails of a dog to the dog-star in 
 propitiation for a blight at that time ravaging the produce 
 of the fields. It is several times mentioned by Martial. 
 " Do you ask me what profit my Nomentum estate brings 
 me, Linus .''" he asks, with biting sarcasm, either in joke or 
 in earnest. " My estate brings me this profit — that I do 
 not see you, Linus."* He gives a pleasant picture of its 
 rurality and retirement in another of his pieces addressed 
 to Castricus at the voluptuous seaside town of Baiae. 
 "Whilst happy Baiae, Castricus," he says, "is showering its 
 favours upon you, and its fair nymph receives you to swim 
 in its sulphureous waters, I am strengthened by the repose 
 of my Nomentan farm in a cottage which gives me no 
 trouble with its numerous acres. Here is my Baian sun- 
 shine and the sweet Lucrine lake ; here have I, Castricus, 
 all such riches as you are enjoying. Time was when I 
 betook myself at pleasure to any of the far-famed watering- 
 places, and felt no apprehension of long journeys. Now 
 spots near town and retreats of easy access are my delight ; 
 and I am content if permitted to be idle."t Seneca also 
 had a villa here. It had a fertile and productive territory, 
 much famed for its wines ; a characteristic which it still 
 preserves. 
 
 In mediaeval times it is noticeable from its having been 
 the meeting-place of Charlemagne and Pope Leo the Third, 
 accompanied by the senate of Rome, in the year eight 
 
 * Quid mihi reddat ager quaeris, Line, Nomentanus ? 
 Hoc mihi reddit ager : te, Line, non video. 
 
 Ep. ii. 38. 
 t Ep. vi.43. 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENJE TO SCORANO. 193 
 
 hundred, when the former went to receive the imperial 
 crown in that city. This meeting was celebrated by a 
 sumptuous feast, combining all the profusion, pomp and 
 splendour which characterised such occasions in former 
 times. The ceremonial of his subsequent coronation at 
 Rome is thus described by Gibbon : 
 
 "In his fourth and last pilgrimage, he was received at 
 
 Rome with the due honours of king and patrician 
 
 On the festival of Christmas, the last year of the eighth 
 century, Charlemagne appeared in the church of St. Peter ; 
 and to gratify the vanity of Rome, he had exchanged the 
 simple dress of his country for the habit of a patrician. 
 After the celebration of the holy mysteries, Leo suddenly 
 placed a precious crown on his head, and the dome re- 
 sounded with the shouts of the people, ' Long life and 
 victory to Charles the most pious Augustus, crowned by 
 God the great and pacific emperor of the Romans !' The 
 head and body of Charlemagne were consecrated by the 
 royal unction ; after the example of the Caesars, he was 
 saluted or adored by the pontiff; his coronation oath repre- 
 sents a promise to maintain the faith and privileges of the 
 Church ; and the first-fruits were paid in his rich offerings 
 to the shrine of the apostle. In his familiar conversation 
 the emperor protested he was ignorant of the intentions of 
 Leo, or he would have disappointed them on that memorable 
 day. But the preparations for the ceremony must have 
 disclosed the secret ; and the journey of Charlemagne 
 reveals his knowledge and expectation. He had acknow- 
 ledged that the imperial title was the object of his am- 
 bition, and a Roman synod had pronounced that it was 
 the only adequate reward of his merits and services."* 
 
 Here was born the famous Crescenzio Nomentano, who for 
 some time ruled the destinies of Rome during his occupa- 
 tion of the fortress of St. Angelo, as already mentioned. 
 
 The modern Mentana is a miserable little town, con- 
 sisting of one long street. Its mediaeval castle still frowns 
 * Dec. and Fall, chap. 49. 
 
194 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 at one end of it, shorn of its warlike character, hanging out 
 forlorn flags of surrender to all-conquering Time in the 
 shape of tattered fronds of maidenhair and other parasitic 
 plants that find an undisturbed rooting on its walls. Some 
 old sarcophagi reversed, with the inscriptions still legible, 
 form seats under the church tower for evening gossipers. 
 A few fragments of old marbles are here and there built 
 into the walls or reared against them ; but no recording 
 monument remains to testify of its former importance. 
 
 Whilst we were passing along the street, we met a 
 benevolent-looking priest, who seemed to be the essence of 
 geniality and blandness, friendly smiles beaming all over 
 his face. He appeared to be on such terms of good-nature 
 with his parishioners that he might have been a sort of 
 Vicar of Wakefield in his little territory. As we stopped 
 to sketch the old castle, a little boy came and stood 
 beside us, whom I began to question as to his education. 
 He said he knew almost nothing, and that there was 
 no school in the place. " But," I said, ** does not the 
 good father priest whom I saw in the street teach you 
 anything .?" " When he first came," he said, " he tried very 
 hard to do so ; but we were all so stupid we could not 
 learn anything whatever, so he gave it up." ''And how 
 does he occupy himself now ?" I asked. " Now," said the 
 boy, '* he goes to sleep." 
 
 The highest navigable point of the river at present for 
 large vessels is at a place called Scorano, which is about 
 twenty miles from Rome by land, and five and thirty by 
 the river. It is represented by a wide undulating plain, 
 marked by a few of the conical shepherds' huts which form 
 so characteristic an object on the Campagna. Once there was 
 a regular boat service as far as Ponte Felice ; but since the 
 opening of the railway the river has been allowed to fall into 
 neglect so that what little traffic there is beyond Scorano has 
 to be carried on by means of small boats dragged by buffaloes. 
 
 As our vessel laboured and panted up the stream with 
 its string of barges behind it the day began to wane. The 
 
Chap. VII. FROM FIDENAi. TO SCORANO. 195 
 
 mountains clothed in their purple hues seemed to be removed 
 to another world of unearthly splendour. The banks of 
 the river were dashed with glowing streaks of crimson as if 
 spilt with ruby-coloured wine. One by one the birds retired 
 to rest, all but the nightingale, who continued his sweet 
 strain into the night. A glassy calm settled on the river 
 except for the tortuous vortices that vexed its liquid surface, 
 shattering the pale reflection of the crescent moon, which 
 with the first star of evening came out in the sky. Soon 
 the mighty constellations began to wheel and burn above 
 us. The fitful firefly glanced in and out amongst the 
 bushes as the dews began to fall. When the daylight was 
 quite gone the prow of the vessel was thrust into the bushes 
 of a little bay, and soon a deep silence reigned around only 
 broken now and then by the hooting owl as he mixed 
 his note with the sovereign nightingale, the croak of a frog, 
 or the distant cry of the cicala, whilst the gliding water 
 gave a thin faint murmur from time to time, as if whisper- 
 ing in a dream. It was long before I could tear myself 
 away from the prospect. The vast Campagna was spread 
 in solemn gloom around. Those very stars lighted- it in 
 the days of its olden glory. I watched the solitary lamp 
 of a far-ofl" teniita as it glimmered through the night. A 
 wood-laden bark floated slowly down the stream with a 
 blazing fire at its stern to light its wandering way. When 
 it had vanished in the windings of the river, I too, rolling my- 
 self in a rug in the cabin, was soon involved in a deep sleep. 
 I was wakened at the first streak of dawn by a bird in 
 the bushes, which must have sat close to my ear, though I 
 did not see him. First a little broken chirrup, and then a 
 full tide of flowing, gurgling song, as if his heart had been 
 burthened with music and it had overflowed in a joyous 
 melody. Note after note came pouring out of his mellow bill, 
 till the cabin seemed filled with his warbling. I arose with a 
 sense of chilliness, noticing for the first time that all the 
 apertures of the cabin had been left unclosed. I went on 
 deck. One by one the sleepy crew mustered. The hollows 
 
196 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VII. 
 
 of the Campagna were hid in mist, out of which here and 
 there peeped a conical shepherd's hut. The river presented 
 a very remarkable spectacle. It was covered with wreaths 
 or pillars of mist, which stood in compacted forms on the 
 surface of the water like spirits of the night surprised by 
 the coming of day. Presently, as some insensible air was 
 breathed about them, they began to move slowly up and 
 down, sometimes approaching each other as if to whisper 
 mysterious secrets, then gliding along in crowds, but with- 
 out breaking or intermingling their forms ; then they would 
 appear to be animated with the sober movements of a 
 solemn dance, bending and wavering, turning leisurely by 
 the bushes on the banks. Soon some large boats began to 
 loom through their substance, bringing to mind the spectral 
 vessels that bear the death-freed souls across the fabled 
 Styx or Acheron. But now our vessel began to pant and 
 groan, and being liberated from the moorings, we were soon 
 steaming rapidly down the river. I stood on the captain's 
 deck chilled with cold, straining my eyes uneasily in the 
 direction of sunrise. As it grew redder and redder the lark 
 flew up into the sky singing loudly. Soon a golden rim 
 rose above the mountain tops and the silent beams glided 
 along the pearly plain, bringing a new day to the world, so 
 brilliant, so glorious, that one longed to run to every 
 sleeper and wake him with the tidings that the sun had 
 risen. 
 
 Our downward journey was enlivened by a very interest- 
 ing conversation with an assistant engineer or stoker on the 
 vessel, whose services were not required below. He was 
 full of intelligence, looked hopefully to the future of Italy, 
 reasoning soundly upon matters of national progress and 
 personal development, in a manner that would have done 
 honour to any social institute in England. 
 
 In two hours we accomplished what had taken us a long 
 day in the upward course of the stream ; and Rome had 
 scarcely risen from its bed when we found ourselves once 
 more landed on the steps of the Ripetta. 
 
Chap. VIII. ( 197 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 POPULAR SONGS OF THE TIBERINE DISTRICT. 
 
 I PURPOSE here to interrupt the course of our journey 
 for the length of a chapter in order to give my readers 
 some account of a little-known class of literature (if that 
 may be called literature which has been composed in a 
 great measure without the use of letters, and is only now 
 imperfectly in print), the popular songs of the people of 
 Italy inhabiting the region of the Tiber : beginning 
 with the Gampagna of Rome and ending with those of 
 Umbria. 
 
 It is a thing hardly to be believed that in the heart of a 
 rude and uncultivated peasantry, incapable, for the most 
 part, of either reading or writing, there should exist one of 
 the noblest and purest fountains of lyrical inspiration and 
 composition, a faculty so delicate and refined as very often 
 to produce, I will not say rivals to Horace and Catullus, 
 but something which often matches them, in subtlety of 
 rendering, in neatness of form and finish, breathing a 
 fragrance and delicacy of sentiment quite unknown to their 
 time and age. By far the greater part of these are on the 
 universal subject : they are love songs ; they treat of lovers' 
 joys and lovers' woes, with old tales of devotion and insepa- 
 rable attachment. One of their most remarkable features 
 is theii thorough wholesomeness and purity. They are 
 darkened by no shade of coarseness, nor by any touch of 
 sensuality. They are pure as the sunshine, the wind, the 
 fresh flowers — as the simple affections of which they are 
 
 P 
 
198 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 the offspring. They reflect no traces of bad passions, they 
 harbour no brood of dissoluteness or vice ; they are without 
 affectation, prudery, or license, bird-like and self-unconscious 
 in their utterance, as such songs should be. Many of them 
 embalm the relics of knightly chivalry, in which the beloved 
 one is addressed as dama (or dame) and the lover is called 
 servente amoroso (loving servant). It is from the mountainous 
 districts that these sweet songs have emanated in their 
 purest form, and in which they have been best preserved : 
 where the invader has seldom come, and where robust 
 habits and a remote locality have placed the people out of 
 the reach of social corruptions and depreciating tendencies. 
 There is a perceptible difference between the language of 
 the mountains and that of the plains ; the latter being 
 mixed with Gallic phrases or corrupted by Spanish in- 
 fluences. The same holds good also of the moral tone of 
 the people and their compositions, the former being loftier, 
 purer, and distinguished by a higher social sentiment and 
 a more domestic character. Even where these verses 
 contain technical defects of construction they breathe a 
 music and fitness of sound to sense, and embody an artless 
 grace of expression often denied to culture and more 
 elaborate literary means. Sometimes they are jocular, 
 sometimes smart, sometimes homely, sad, or sorrowful, 
 as suits the humour of the composer. Many of them 
 might have been written by Dante or his friend Cino 
 da Pistoia. They are full of allusions to natural things. 
 The stars, winds, birds, fruits, or flowers, furnish inexhaust- 
 ible images, and are frequently personified to symbolize the 
 sentiments of the composer. Here is one in which the 
 lover apostrophizes his mistress's affection under the emblem 
 
 of a dove. 
 
 Vola, palomba, quanto puoi volare, 
 ^ Salisci in alto quanto puoi salire, 
 
 Gira lo mondo quanto puoi girare: 
 Un giorno alle mie mani hai da venire.* 
 
 * This and several others here quoted are from the ' Canti Popolar 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 199 
 
 Which may be translated : 
 
 Fly, fly, wild dove, as far as thou canst go; 
 
 Rise in the air as high, as high can be; 
 Sweep round the world wherever winds may blow: 
 
 One day, where'er thou go, thou must return to me. 
 
 Here is another of a similar order, full of exquisite 
 symbolism. 
 
 Un garofano ho visto da una banda, 
 Dall'altra parte un generoso fiore ; 
 E passa il vostro amore, e mi domanda: 
 Chi ha donato a voi questo bel fiore ? 
 Rispondo: E nato nel giardin dell' alma, 
 Dove si leva la spera del sole: 
 Dove si leva e dove si riposa ; 
 Vdltati verso me, Candida rosa : 
 Dove si leva e dove si ripone; 
 Vdltati verso me, candido fiore. 
 
 For which the English reader must accept this. 
 
 A pink opens out on one hand, 
 
 On the other an exquisite flower; 
 And your love passing by doth demand, 
 
 Who gave you this beautiful flower ? 
 I reply. It was born in the land 
 
 Of the soul, where the sun rules the hour — 
 Where he rises and sinks to repose — 
 Turn towards me, immaculate rose — 
 Where he rises and where he reposes — 
 Turn towards me, pure rose of all roses. 
 
 Almost all of the Tuscan songs are love songs, partly 
 based upon Latin traditions ; possibly some of them may 
 have even retained an Etruscan character. They have, 
 however, been largely influenced by the troubadour element 
 
 Toscani,' collected and annotated by Giuseppe Tigri, and published a t 
 Florence by Barbera. I am also further indebted for some of the infor- 
 mation conveyed in this chapter to his introductoiy essay attached to the 
 same. It will be needless to point out to the reader of the Italian language 
 the little peculiarities of dialect here and there made use of, as their 
 meaning is always apparent. 
 
 P 2 
 
200 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, when every one 
 used " sweet and airy rhymes of love ;" doubtless many of 
 them had their origin at that time. They follow endless, 
 modulations and modifications ; so that the same song is 
 often reproduced, wholly or in part, in divers forms ; but 
 their main traits are never lost : they are always subtle and 
 delicate, reflecting the manifold aspects and idiosyncrasies 
 of the various minstrels by whom they are adapted. 
 
 As regards the tunes or chants to which these songs are 
 sung I cannot give a very definite account. They are all 
 in a minor key, of course, as the music of nature always, 
 or nearly always is ; their rhythm very difficult to make 
 out ; many of them giving the idea of the w^ail of some 
 wild bird or animal more than the ordered melody of the 
 human voice. They are probably to be resolved into a 
 few and very simple elements originating in remote ages, 
 it may be in the days of Catullus and Virgil, or even earlier 
 still. 
 
 The songs of the Campagna and region about Rome 
 possess distinctive characteristics. They are almost invari- 
 ably composed of eight lines or verses, of eleven syllables 
 each, rhymed alternately, the first two lines generally con- 
 taining some picturesque conceit to seize the attention, 
 which is repeated at the end of the song. In these songs 
 the people embalm their most sacred emotions, showing the 
 greatest unwillingness to expose them to strangers. Visconti 
 (who was one of the first collectors of these little lyrics) had 
 much difficulty in persuading them to repeat them to him. 
 In some cases he failed altogether, and in others they were 
 not able to do it excepting by singing. It is to the intrinsic 
 and personal nature of these songs that Visconti attributes 
 their nerve and force ; being usually composed for a special 
 end without any reference to a wider appeal, just as a love- 
 letter might be. Though they sometimes contain archa- 
 isms, yet they are always composed with great purity of 
 diction and without the least vulgarity. What neatly- 
 turned strain of Tasso or other most cultivated Italian 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 201 
 
 poet, for instance, could be more exquisite than this charm- 
 ing little lyric } 
 
 Rosa gentil nel giardin d'Amore, 
 
 Vaga comparsa fai tra verdi foglie, 
 II tuo purpureo e candido colore 
 
 Luce da 1' occhi e pace a I' alma toglie ; 
 Intorno spandi si soave odore, 
 
 Ch'ogni maggiore piacere in se raccoglie; 
 Punto da le tue spine questo core 
 
 Di dolor morira se non ti coglie : 
 Rosa gentil, che nel giardin d' Amore 
 
 Vaga comparsa fai tra verdi foglie.* 
 
 Which may be thus rendered into English. 
 
 Dainty sweet Rose, who rn Love's garden-ground 
 
 Amidst green leaves thy face dost half reveal, 
 Thy white and red in subtle mixture bound, 
 
 Light from the eye, peace from the soul do steal: 
 Such tender odour thou dost scatter round, 
 
 That every joy in thee hath end and seal ; 
 This heart must die pierced by thy thorn's sharp wound, 
 
 If thy ungathered balms refuse to heal : 
 Dainty sweet Rose, who in Love's garden-ground 
 
 Amidst green leaves thy face dost half reveal. 
 
 There is another characteristic of these songs of the 
 Campagna I believe quite peculiar to them. It is that all 
 the lines have very often the same terminal consonant, the 
 variation of the rhymes being got by a simple change of 
 the penultimate vowel, by which a very smooth and 
 flowing effect is obtained. Here is a sample of this kind of 
 composition. 
 
 Lucentissima Stella mattutina, 
 
 Vaga ninfa d'Amore, dca serena, 
 Non ci passa ne sera ne mattina, 
 
 Che non rimira la bellezza tena ; 
 
 * This and several of the following songs are taken from a little 
 brochure entitled " Saggio de' Canti Popolari della Provincia di Marittima 
 e Campagna," by the late Commendatore P. E. Visconti. It was printed 
 in Rome in eighteen hundred and thirty, but is now very rare, and difficult 
 to be met with. 
 
202 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 Chi la rimira sa faccia divina 
 
 L' aria se ce va nuvola serena ; 
 Quando esce lo sole a lei s' inchina, 
 
 Credendo che ce sia la Maddalena : 
 Lucentissima Stella mattutina, 
 
 Vaga ninfa d'Amore, dea serena. 
 
 It will be seen that in these verses the penultimate 
 syllable has only been changed throughout in one par- 
 ticular. I have indicated it in the following translation ; 
 though, of course, it would be impossible to follow it 
 accurately in the English language. 
 
 Clear morning star, whose beams do brightly shine, 
 
 Sweet nymph of Love, divinity serene, 
 No morn or eve may meet these eyes of mine, 
 
 Wherein thy fair-like beauty is not seen : 
 Who sees thy face beholds a face divine, 
 
 Makes heaven of every sullen vapour clean ; 
 The rising sun to thee doth first incline, 
 
 Believing thee the beauteous Magdalene : 
 Clear morning star, whose beams do brightly shine. 
 
 Sweet nymph of Love, divinity serene. 
 
 Here is another, containing a lover's protestation worth 
 transcribing. 
 
 Prima ch'io lasci te, gentil signora, 
 
 I duri sassi si faranno cera, 
 Madre dell' ombre diverra T aurora, 
 
 II mezzogiorno sonera la sera, 
 Saranno il foco e I'acqua uniti ancora, 
 
 Eterna durera la primavera ; 
 I nostri amori finiranno allora 
 
 Quando '1 mondo ritorni a quel che era. 
 Prima ch'io lasci te, gentil signora, 
 
 I duri sassi si faranno cera. 
 
 Ere I do leave thee, gentle lady bright, 
 
 The solid stones shall melt like wax away. 
 The mother of shadows quench the morning light. 
 
 And eve proclaim the tidings of midday, 
 Fire and water in one bond unite, 
 
 And spring unchanged for ever hold his sway : 
 Then shall our ended loves be finished quite, 
 
 When earth its primal chaos shall display. 
 Ere I do leave thee, gentle lady bright, 
 
 The solid stones shall melt like wax away. 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 203 
 
 Here the singer has evidently met with reverses. 
 
 Misero chi confida a la fortuna, 
 
 Pazzo chi crede in amicizia umana : 
 Nel mondo non si da fede veruna; 
 
 L' amante piu fedele s' allontana. 
 Le donne sono simili a la liina, 
 
 Fanno li quarti ad ogni settimana; 
 Meglio e lasciarle andare a una a una, 
 
 E vivere con tutte a la lontana. 
 Misero chi confida a la fortuna, 
 
 Pazzo chi crede in amicizia umana. 
 
 A fool is he who waits on fortune's boon. 
 
 Mad he who counts on friendship's* fickleness; 
 The truest trust is bent and broken soon ; 
 
 In this world is no certain steadfastness : 
 For women vary as the varying moon, 
 
 Which every week a different face doth dress; 
 Better to pass them by thee one by one, 
 
 And bide away from them in singleness. 
 A fool is he who waits on fortune's boon. 
 
 Mad he who counts on friendship's fickleness. 
 
 The next I shall quote has an air so delicately sad and 
 tender in its expression, so refined and pensive in its low- 
 breathed sorrow, that I scarcely know where to place it 
 amongst all the erotic lyrics with which I am acquainted. 
 
 Vanne, sospiro mio, vanne a trovare 
 
 Quella che doglia sol me reca al core ! 
 Giunto dinanzi a lei, fatte a parlare; 
 
 Racconta le mie pene, '1 mio dolore ; 
 Dicce che peno sempre, e che me pare 
 
 De vederme ridotto all' ultime ore; 
 Di, che quantunque me faccia penare, 
 
 Costante sono sempre nel suo amore — 
 E se la trovi sorda a li lamenti, 
 Povero mio sospir, te spargo ai venti. 
 
 I cannot hope to have translated with anything like the 
 sentiment of the original this fragile little lyric, exhaling 
 the very aroma of the soul's tenderness. It would require 
 a Shakespeare, a Fletcher, or a Ben Jonson to do it justice. 
 
 * Jmicizia, however, in Italian, means rather more than "friendship" 
 in English. 
 
204 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 Here is the best representative that I can give my English 
 readers for it. 
 
 Go forth, my sigh, go sadly forth, and find 
 
 Her who doth feed my heart with sorrow's flow; 
 And if thou reach her tell her all my mind. 
 
 Recount my griefs and paint my wasting woe ; 
 Tell her I suffer still— through her, unkind, 
 
 My life's last hour in anguish seems to go ; 
 Tell her that though she scorn me, still I bind 
 
 My soul to hers with love no change can know — 
 And if, sad sigh, thou find her unrelenting. 
 Then die upon the air in vain lamenting. 
 
 The following little song is of another order, but scarcely- 
 less charming in its way than some of the foregoing. It 
 was taken down from the mouth of a peasant at Castel 
 Gandolfo, at the foot of the Sabine mountains.* 
 
 La prima volta che m'innamorai 
 Piantai lo dolce persico alia vigna, 
 E poi gli dissi, Persico benigno, 
 S' amor mi lassa, ti possi seccare ! 
 
 A capo air anno ritornai alia vigna; 
 Trovai lo dolce persico seccato ; 
 Mi butto in terra e tutta scapiglio: 
 Questo e segno ch' amore m' ha lassato. 
 
 Albero che t'avevo tanto a caro, 
 E t' innaquavo co li miei sudore. 
 Si son seccate le cime e le rame 
 I frutti han perso lo dolce sapore. 
 
 Morte vieni da me quando ti pare, 
 Giacche il mio bene ha mutato pensare. 
 
 When first the sweet pleasure of loving I knew 
 I planted a peach in my vineyard one day. 
 
 And prayed, if my loved one should e'er prove untrue. 
 My beautiful peach tree might wither away. 
 
 * By my friend, Signor Ettore Ferrari, a young Roman sculptor, who 
 adds a wide literary culture to his professional abilities. I may take this 
 opportunity of acknowledging my obligations to him also in other respects 
 in the compilation of this portion of my volume. 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 205 
 
 In the spring I returned to my vineyard, and found 
 My peach tree was drooping, all faded and dried ; 
 
 Then weeping, I threw myself down on the ground; 
 For this is a sign she is faithless, I cried. 
 
 My beautiful peach that to me was so dear, 
 So anxiously tended and nourished with pain. 
 
 Its branches are withered, its leaves are grown sere. 
 Its fruits their sweet savour no longer retain. 
 
 Come, Death, when thou wilt; all my pleasures are o'er, 
 Since she who once loved me now loves me no more. 
 
 As we leave the Campagna of Rome and enter into the 
 districts of Umbria these songs assume a rather different 
 form, though the character of them is very much the same. 
 They are for the most part designated by the term Rispetti 
 (or respects). They are short poems, wherein the lover 
 addresses his mistress with compliments or salutations. 
 They are usually composed in from six to ten lines or 
 verses ; those of eight lines generally interrhyming the first 
 six, and closing with a couplet conveyed almost always 
 with great point and force, gracefully inverting and re- 
 peating the previous subject. Their conceptive treatment 
 is sometimes sententious, and then the principal sentence 
 is first laid down, and the corollary follows by way of 
 deduction from it, or else the subject to be- enforced is first 
 stated, and the example or apology used by way of illus- 
 tration. Here is one of this class of poems in which the 
 Muse has tried her hand on the old problem. 
 
 O Dio del cielo, o Dio del ciel benigno, 
 Perche tu non facesti il mondo paro ? 
 Tu facesti chi ricco e chi meschino, 
 A chi donasti il dolce, a chi I'amaro, 
 A chi tu desti T oro, a chi lo piombo: 
 Non e nessun contento in questo mondo. 
 A chi tu desti I'oro, a chi I'argento: 
 In questo mondo 'n e nissun contento. 
 
 O God of heaven, O God of heaven benign, 
 Why mad'st thou not this hapless world more even? 
 
 For one is rich, and one in want doth pine; 
 To one is sweet, to one is bitter given; 
 
io6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 And one to lead, and one to gold hath birth: 
 There is no one content upon the earth: — 
 To one is gold, to one is silver sent: 
 Upon the earth there is no one content. 
 
 Here is another of the sententious order. 
 
 Simile h I'uomo all' uccelletto in gabbia; 
 Non canta per amore, ma per rabbia. 
 Cosi son io quando vedo tene ; 
 Canto, ma il mio cantar m' accresce pene. 
 
 Man, like a bird shut up within a cage, 
 Sings not for love, but rapt w^ith sorrow's rage; 
 So I, when thou dost pass beside my door. 
 Sing, but my singing makes the pain the more. 
 
 What shall we say of the peasant's wife or innamorata 
 who can address him on the eve of a journey in such terms 
 as these ? — 
 
 O bocca d'oro fra pomi d'argento, 
 
 Ora lo vedo che tu vuoi partire. 
 
 Partine pure, e vattene contento ; 
 
 Ricordati, idol mio, del ben servire: 
 
 E per la via troverai dell'erbe; 
 
 Ricordati, idol mio, di chi ti serve: 
 
 E per la via troverai dei fiori ; 
 
 Ricordati, idol mio, di chi abbandoni : 
 
 E per la via troverai dei sassi ; 
 
 Ricordati, idol mio, di chi tu lassi. 
 
 O golden mouth in silver apples set, 
 
 I know the time is come when you must go. 
 
 Go, then ; your parting with contentment met ; 
 Remember, dear, the service that you owe : 
 
 And by the way green herbage you will find; 
 
 Remember, dearest, whom you leave behind : 
 
 And by the way bright blossoms will enweave; 
 
 Remember, my sweet idol, her you leave: 
 
 And by the way hard rocks and stones will lie; 
 
 Remember her to whom you say good-bye. 
 
 This was probably given forth on the occasion of the 
 lover's departure to the lowlands, where many of the 
 peasants go at certain seasons of the year to assist in the 
 labours of agriculture. The allusion to the temptations, 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 207 
 
 troubles and difficulties with which he may meet, and 
 through which he is to be protected by the guardian 
 thought of the loved one, is beautifully conveyed. It will 
 hardly be believed that such songs as these should be the 
 composition of totally uneducated persons, as far as literary 
 culture goes. Still more amazing is it that such elegant 
 strains should be frequently given forth impromptu — the 
 offspring of the moment without any premeditation. 
 Tigri, in the introduction to his collection of Tuscan 
 popular songs, gives some interesting particulars regarding 
 the faculty of improvising amongst the peasantry, from 
 which I will make a few extracts. 
 
 ''The countryman," he says, "both in the mountains and 
 on the plains, is accustomed to sing at every age and at all 
 hours. Singing, he feels his labour grow the lighter, 
 whether it be domestic or that of the fields. The old man 
 sings at the loom, or as he sits by the fire, and his songs, 
 always seasoned with some good and sentential matter, are 
 learnt by his children and grandchildren. If to the exercise 
 of the faculty of song is adjoined the advantage of having 
 read or heard some poetical composition, ' the Royal Race 
 of France ' (I Reali di Francia), or the verses of Tasso, for 
 example, it will be scarcely surprising when I say that these 
 songs transmitted from family to family not only originated 
 with themselves, but that exquisitely beautiful ones are 
 being composed in the same manner by the men and women 
 of to-day. I myself knew a girl of our mountains from the 
 hamlet of Stazzana, named Maria, an authoress of much 
 spirit, who, although, she told me, she had never read a single 
 book of poetry, yet knowing by heart an infinite number 
 of these songs — ^just as a youth newly emerged from his 
 rhetorical exercises with the ring of classic verses still in his 
 mind would, by recurring to them, be able to frame good 
 ones — with a natural aptitude for making verses, readily 
 succeeded in composing harmonious and effective lyrics. 
 The same thing was the case with a young shepherdess 
 called Cherubina, whom I also met. This young girl, of a 
 
2o8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 pleasing person, full of spirit and good sense, showed me, 
 after many entreaties and pretty excuses, some verses on 
 the Passion of our Lord, which she had composed without 
 any other help than that of nature and two little books of 
 devotion from which she had taken the subject, which she 
 carried with her every day when she went to tend the 
 sheep. When I asked her to repeat to me some Rispetti, 
 she excused herself by saying, ' Oh, sir, I can repeat ever 
 so many when I sing — but now — unless they came clearly 
 before me, indeed I cannot' So true is it that they do not 
 conceive of poetry without song ; in fact they never speak 
 of improvising, but of singing poetry. This I can confirm 
 with the example of a well-known improvisatrice of the 
 Pistoian Apennines, Beatrice di Pian degli Ontani, of whom 
 Tommaseo thus writes in the preface to his * Canti Popolari.' 
 ' At Cutigliano I found a rich vein of song which I was 
 not able to exhaust in a whole day. I caused to come 
 from Pian degli Ontani, about three miles distant, a certain 
 Beatrice, the wife of a shepherd, herself also a tender 
 of flocks, who did not know how to read, but could im- 
 provise in octaves [stanzas of six interrhymed lines and a 
 couplet]. . . Beatrice warmed in a trial of skill with a 
 respondent, singing for a whole hour in elegant and refined 
 terms, with the few ideas which had been bestowed upon 
 her ; always taking up the rhymes of the two last verses 
 sung by her companion.' I may add that from that time 
 she has been constantly in the habit of singing impromptu ; 
 and that during the last Italian events of eighteen hundred 
 and forty-eight, often called to Cutigliano to improvise 
 before various persons, she was not in the habit of refusing ; 
 but without any preparation, only asked to be made ac- 
 quainted with the incidents (which were those of the time) 
 upon which they desired her to improvise, when in the 
 midst of a circle of the peasantry of the district, she in a 
 moment commenced to sing the most beautiful octave 
 verses." 
 
 As an illustration of the faculty possessed by this gifted 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 209 
 
 woman, as well as for its good, wholesome teaching, I will 
 here give one of her little lyrics, also made impromptu. 
 
 Non vi maravigliate, giovanetti, 
 Se non sapessi troppo ben cantare. 
 In casa mia non ci e nato maestri, 
 E manco a scuola son ita a imparare. 
 Se voi volete intender la mia scuola, 
 Su questi poggi all' acq ua e alia gra3:nuola. 
 Volete intender lo mio imparare ? 
 Andar per legna, o starmene a zappare. 
 
 Perhaps I have scarcely got the simplicity of the original 
 in this translation ; but here is the sense of it. 
 
 It is no marvel, youths, your song is shorn 
 Of that fine tone which makes the poet burn. 
 
 Within my house there is no master born, 
 Nor any school where I my task might learn. 
 
 If you would go to school where I did gain 
 
 My power, mount yonder crags through hail and rain: 
 
 If you would read, as I, the muse's tome, 
 
 Go dig the ground and fetch the fuel home.* 
 
 I shall here give a few examples from the Umbrian or 
 
 * It is interesting to compare this with one of Wordsworth's sonnets, 
 in which he seems dimly to have perceived, as a thesis, from the side of 
 reflection and culture, what has here become a resultant and experimental 
 fact to the mind of the poetess-improvisatrice. 
 
 Enough of garlands, of the Arcadian crook, 
 
 And all that Greece and Italy have sung. 
 
 Of swains reposing myrtle groves among ! 
 
 Ours couch on native rocks, will cross a brook 
 
 Swoln with chill rains, nor ever cast a look 
 
 This way or that, or give it even a thought 
 
 More than by smoothest pathway may be brought 
 
 Into a vacant mind. Can written book 
 
 Teach what they learn ? Up, hardy mountaineer ! 
 
 And guide the Bard, ambitious to be one 
 
 Of Nature's privy council as thou art 
 
 On cloud-sequestered heights, that see and hear 
 
 To what dread Power He delegates his part 
 
 On earth, who works in the heaven of heavens, alone. 
 
2IO THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 Tuscan songs of Tigri's collection. Here is one put 
 together with considerable grace and poetic perceptiveness. 
 
 La luna s' h venuta a lamentare 
 Inde la faccia del divino Amore: 
 Dice che in cielo non ci vuol piu stare; 
 Che tolto gliel'avete lo splendore. 
 E si lamenta, e si lamenta forte; 
 L'ha conto le sue stelle, non son tutte 
 E gliene manca due, e voi 1' avete : 
 Son que'du'occhi che in fronte tenete. 
 
 The moon arises in the midnight sky, 
 
 And thus to Love Divine she makes her moan ; 
 She says she can no longer stay thereby. 
 
 Because its splendour, rapt by you, is gone: 
 Full sadly she complains, and sadly sighs : 
 She counts her stars, and finds the tale is short — 
 Two lost for all her searching ; they are those 
 That shine beneath the bending of your brows. 
 
 Here is a gallant little strain, probably the impromptu 
 
 of a moment. 
 
 Avete un crine inanellato e biondo, 
 C ha fortemente legato il mio core : 
 Ete un par d'occhi danno luce al mondo, 
 E mi tengon soggetto a tutte 1' ore. 
 
 With many a bright ringlet thy blonde hair so curled 
 Has bound in immovable fetters my heart; 
 
 Those two bonny eyes which illumine the world 
 Still hold me thy subject wherever thou art. 
 
 Another on the same subject. 
 
 E son venuto, bella, per comprare 
 Questi due occhi che in fronte tenete. 
 Non ho portato somma di danaro, 
 Che non sapevo il prezzo che chiedete: 
 Non ho portato ne oro ne argento; 
 Vi lascio lo mio cor per pagamento: 
 Non ho portato ne argento ne oro; 
 Vi lascio lo mio cor, ricco tesoro. 
 
 I would buy those eyes of thine, 
 
 Shining bright in beauty's mask. 
 But have no gold — could not divine 
 
 What the price that you might ask 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 211 
 
 Gold and silver — failing both, 
 Take for pay my heart in troth: 
 Neither silver, neither gold, 
 Take my heart's rich w^ealth untold. 
 
 Here is a pretty, sad one. 
 
 Rondinella, che passi monti e colli, 
 Se trovi I'amor mio, digli che venga; 
 E digli, son rimasta in questi poggi, 
 Come rimane la smarrita agnella ; 
 E digli son rimasta senza nimo, 
 Come I'albero secco senza il ramo ; 
 E digli, son rimasta abbandonata. 
 Come I'erbetta secca in sulle prata. 
 
 O swallow, flying o'er those rugged places, 
 If you find my loved one, bid him come; 
 
 And tell him, here amongst these mountain mazes 
 I wander like a lamb bereft of home; 
 And tell him, here I live and make my moan. 
 Like a withered tree whose top is gone; 
 And tell him, here I live without a lover, 
 Like a tree whose summer green is over; 
 And tell him, here I live abandoned. 
 Like a droughted mead whose grass is dead. 
 
 Here is one in a livelier strain, composed also in absence ; 
 
 or, it may be, a half serious little conceit thrown after a 
 
 faithless one. 
 
 Cupido mio, Cupido marinaro. 
 
 Mi presteresti un po' la tua galera ? 
 
 Ch' io me ne vada a spasso per il mare 
 
 A ritrovar la mia dama che era. 
 
 E se la trovo, la vo' imprigionare ; 
 
 Metter li voglio al collo una catena: 
 
 Metter li voglio al collo cose belle, 
 
 Un giglio, un bel diamante e quattro stelle. 
 
 Cupid sailor, Cupid mine, 
 
 Lend me but that bark of thine. 
 
 I would sail across the sea, 
 
 To bring my fair one back to me; 
 
 And if I find her, to detain her, 
 
 Round her pretty neck would chain her — 
 
 Would hang about that neck of hers 
 
 A lily, a fine diamond, and four bright stars. 
 
212 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. VIII. 
 
 Sometimes they are humorous, as in the following. 
 
 Oh ! come fa la donna contadina 
 Quando le' vede T amante passare ! 
 E va sull'uscio, e chiama la gallina, 
 Finche 1' amante si venga a voltare. 
 Quando 1' amante poi s' e rivoltato, 
 Scio, scio, gallina, che non t' ho chiamato ! 
 
 These country girls are mighty sly: \ 
 
 For when they see their lovers' faces, 
 
 Chuck, chuck ! as to the fowls, they cry, ' 
 Until their lover turns and gazes: 
 
 Then call, as if they meant no other. 
 
 Shoo, shoo! these fowls are quite a bother. 
 
 Here is one of some newly-bereaved Chloe, almost as 
 pungent as Martial, which says more for her philosophy 
 than her constancy. We will, however, suppose that it is a 
 vciQXQJeu d esprit. 
 
 E morto lo mio amore, e non ho pianto: 
 Credevo ben che fusse altro dolore: 
 E morto il papa, e se n' e fatto un altro, 
 E cosi faro io un altro amore. 
 
 My sweetheart is dead, but I make no pother. 
 
 For in life there is too much sorrow: 
 When the good pope dies they will find another, 
 
 And I a sweetheart to-morrow. 
 
 Sometimes lines of the very highest order are met with 
 in these lyrics. These, for example, would match with 
 some of the best of Petrarch or our own Marlowe. They 
 are conceived in the finest spirit of true poetry. 
 
 Oh quanto vi sta ben la gentilezza. 
 Come ad un prato un bel manto di fiori. 
 
 How do thy dainty graces fit thee well, 
 As to a mead a mantle of fair flowers ! 
 
 Or this one. 
 
 Vi ride prima gli occhi che la bocca. 
 Your eyes are seen to smile before your mouth. 
 
 It is probable that the great revival of Italian letters in 
 
Chap. VIII. POPULAR SONGS. 
 
 the latter half of the thirteenth century was in a great 
 measure based upon these native little lyrics which floated 
 about everywhere, as a comparison with the poems of Cino 
 da Pistoia, Dante da Maiano, Guido Cavalcanti, and others, 
 will render apparent. The resemblance is not only per- 
 ceptible in the sentiment of many of them, but also in their 
 construction, particularly in the opening phrase and its 
 repetition in similar rhymes at the end of the piece, which, 
 as has been seen, is a characteristic of many of the sur- 
 viving popular lyrics, being, probably, in the first instance, 
 an adaptation of the Tuscan and Umbrian stornello. These 
 stonielli are short little interlocutory songs, sometimes 
 strung together and sung alternately, and sometimes used 
 as the chorus or refrain to other songs. They generally 
 commence with the name of a fruit or flower, giving the 
 motive to the two following lines, with which the latter 
 rhymes, these constituting the whole of the piece. Here 
 is a sample of these little productions. 
 
 Foglia d'aprile. 
 Ora che me lo hai fatto licenziare, 
 E notte e giorno mi farai morire. 
 
 April leaves. 
 Now thou hast rejected me, faithless lover, 
 I die night and day, my heart so grieves. 
 
 Sometimes they vary the apostrophe to some other 
 object, as in this. 
 
 O I una, O sole ! 
 O Stella Diana, non mi abbandonare : 
 Fammi rifar la pace col mio amore. 
 
 O sun, O moon ! 
 O star of Diana, do not forsake me; 
 But make my peace w^ith my lover full soon. 
 
 Besides these there is another class of songs which con- 
 stitute a sort of ballad literature to be found in print, which 
 have nothing whatever of the tenderness, grace, and senti- 
 ment of these little lyrics in their composition. They are 
 mostly vulgar recitals of adventure or crime, sold as half- 
 
 Q 
 
214 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. VIII. 
 
 penny ballads on the stalls at fairs and festivals. But 
 these are certainly not to be considered indigenous. They 
 are generally either imported from other languages, or are 
 the composition of literary hacks of the cities. How far a 
 larger education might improve or destroy this sweet foun- 
 tain of native song is a question which experience alone can 
 decide. Very probably, where the touch is so delicate, so 
 instinctively fine and right, education would rather tend to 
 its destruction by substituting other trains of thought and 
 wider intellectual ranges for the simplicity which goes 
 straight to its subject from purely artistic feeling. Fortu- 
 nately, the Italians are now fully alive to the importance 
 of collecting and preserving these charming effusions, which 
 begin to form one of the most valuable and beautiful pages 
 of all their literary treasures. The work should be pro- 
 ceeded with promptly, before the tide of change and more 
 extended interests shall have swept them ruthlessly out of 
 memory. 
 
 .SORACTE. 
 
Chap. IX. ( 215 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 
 
 AS the not very important length of the river between 
 Scorano and Borghetto is traversed by the railway, 
 and I had already passed it several times before, being 
 thus familiarised with the aspects of the river between 
 these points, I thought it sufficient to take the train from 
 Rome to Borghetto in company with Mr. Hemans, who 
 had specially visited many of the localities, so as to be 
 able to indicate any point of particular interest. Ac- 
 cordingly, Mr. Hemans, myself, and Mr. Barclay, who 
 joined us for the purpose of exercising his pencil and study- 
 ing the valuable works of art that we should meet with, one 
 morning took train from Rome to Borghetto. It will be 
 sufficient to notice the chief features of the country and 
 landscape in passing. 
 
 For some distance beyond Scorano the little-cultivated 
 Campagna passes into well-cared-for plains of pasture and 
 arable land, varied with wide patches of sombre woodland. 
 Presently, these plains rise into sloping hills, until they 
 attain a considerable elevation, the summits of which are 
 picturesquely crowned at intervals with towns and villages 
 that seem to belong to the kingdom of the air more than 
 the earth, each with its graceful campanile and perhaps a 
 grey tower or two, bearing on its battered walls memorials 
 of the feudal past. Nothing could be more charming than 
 the situation of these miniature citadels, sometimes built 
 
 Q 2 
 
2i6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. IX. 
 
 upon a shelf of rock, sometimes rising from groves and 
 trees, sometimes having their foundations laid in slopes of 
 emerald grass. The hills also are very lovely. Their 
 sides are clothed with varied tints of vegetation, broken 
 with soft grey patches of lichened rock. Through this 
 delightful region the river flows, wandering hither and 
 thither, as If to leave no beauty unexplored, no nook, how- 
 ever remote and secluded, unvisited, fed from time to time 
 in his course by the tiny tributaries of meadow-brook or 
 hillside torrent running down joyfully to greet him. At 
 every turn Mount Soracte (now called St. Oreste) presents 
 its majestic outline and torn peak with still clearer dis- 
 tinctness, the tiny convent at its summit like a speck 
 against the sky. This classic mountain properly belongs 
 to the Apennine limestone range, though situated in the 
 midst of a volcanic country. Its name is frequently met 
 with in ancient writers. " Dost thou see how high Soracte 
 stands," says Horace, in his well-known winter piece, 
 *' white with deep snow, whilst the labouring woods are 
 crushed beneath their load T* It was once famous as the 
 site of a temple dedicated to Apollo, whose priests were 
 supposed to possess miraculous powers over the element 
 of fire, which it was believed could not injure them. Virgil 
 alludes to this in the prayer of Aruns before slaying 
 Camilla, when he makes him exclaim, " Highest of the 
 gods to me, Apollo, guardian of holy Soracte, whom first 
 we honour for whom is fed the blaze of pines piled up, 
 whose votaries we, passing through the fire in the strength 
 of our piety, press the soles of our feet on many a burning 
 coal, grant, almighty Father, that by my arms may be 
 abolished our dishonour."t 
 
 * Vides ut alta stet nive candidum 
 Soracte, nee jam sustineant onus 
 Silvae laborantes geluque 
 Flumina constiterint acuto. 
 
 O. i. 9. 
 t Summe Deum, sancti custos Soractis Apollo, &c. 
 
 An. xi. 785. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM S CORA NO TO TOD I. 217 
 
 About twenty-four miles from Rome, on the right, is the 
 little town of Correse, which represents the ancient Cures, 
 a celebrated city of the Sabine territory. The earliest 
 notice of it in history is when Romulus, after the subjuga- 
 tion of Antemnse, Caenina, and Crustumerium, advanced so 
 nearly to the 8abine borders that the nation became 
 alarmed, and joining themselves in league against him 
 under Tatius, the king of Cures, prepared to withstand his 
 progress. Dionysius says it was one of the greatest of the 
 Sabine cities. It is also mentioned by Strabo as having 
 been once important, though a mere village in his day. 
 From this town Numa Pompilius, the early priest-king, 
 went to Rome, from which circumstance the Roman and 
 Sabine people gave themselves the joint name of Quirites. 
 Antique remains are still to be seen in its neighbourhood, 
 though not very numerous or important. 
 
 Somewhat removed from the river on the left is Fiano, 
 probably the ancient Flavina or Flavinium mentioned by 
 Virgil and Silius Italicus.* A few miles beyond this point 
 the river is spanned by the Ponte Felice, first built by 
 Augustus, connecting Umbria with Etruria, near which is 
 the picturesque village of Borghetto, whose broken old 
 castle forms so conspicuous an object from the plain. This 
 plain was the seat of a somewhat memorable engagement 
 at the end of the last century. When Napoleon Bonaparte 
 had withdrawn the flower of his army into Egypt, the 
 Neapolitans thought it a good opportunity to attempt to 
 rid their country of the French altogether, who were at 
 that time in the occupation of Rome. On the king 
 entering Rome with his army, under General Mack, who 
 had come from Germany at the king's request, the enemy 
 abandoned it. They, however, soon rallied, and meeting 
 the Neapolitans in this place, defeated them with great 
 slaughter ; so that General Mack with the remnant of his 
 army was driven back to Naples. 
 
 Leaving the railway at Borghetto, we got into a vehicle 
 * Mxi. vii. 696. Sil. viii. 492. 
 
2i8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 of the country serving as a very limited order of omnibus, 
 into which four persons might squeeze themselves with 
 difficulty. At the same time there entered it a portly and 
 respectable middle-aged gentleman, who devoutly crossed 
 himself before doing so — the pious prelude of old-fashioned 
 travellers to any undertaking in which there may be risk or 
 danger. We had some conversation with him. He spoke 
 with severity against the new government of the Roman 
 territory. Under papal rule he had been general of the 
 fortress of Civita Castellana, which is a considerable one ; 
 but on its annexation to the kingdom of Italy he had, of 
 course, been dispossessed. Whilst we were talking, there 
 came on a heavy shower of rain ; the wretched old sun- 
 cracked covering of the vehicle allowing the water to pour 
 upon us in streams from every part of it, so that we were 
 soon wet through. By the roadside we saw some cloaked 
 and cowled figures watching over the body of a shepherd who 
 had been found dead the day before, probably from natural 
 causes, as we were told there was no mark of violence upon 
 him. The ex-general made it a ground of bitter complaint 
 against the new regime that the poor fellow had lain there 
 so long pending the official inquiry ; for by the law it is 
 necessary that any one meeting with death in any extra- 
 ordinary manner must be left in the same place and 
 position until inquiry has been made. By the time we had 
 got to Civita Castellana the rain cleared off and the sun 
 shone brightly. Bidding farewell to our fellow-traveller, 
 with many offers of civility and politeness on his part to 
 afford us any assistance that he might be able to render, 
 we entered our albergo, one of the better kinds of inns of 
 the Roman territory. 
 
 Whilst we were sitting after dinner, an interesting- 
 looking lad came into the room, dusty and apparently 
 tired. He brought with him a violin, and, after saluting 
 us, began to play upon it, resting it on his knee, in the 
 manner which one frequently sees represented in old 
 pictures. There was a touch of pathos in his appearance ; 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 219 
 
 he looked thin and worn. Presently, at the request of an 
 Italian who sat at table with us, he commenced to sing a 
 Neapolitan song called " Mastro Raffaello," in a somewhat 
 rough voice. I asked where he came from. " Quite un- 
 necessary to ask," anticipated our companion at table ; " of 
 course he comes from Viggiano ; 7ion e vero, raggazzino f 
 (is it not true, my boy ?) he said, turning to the young 
 musician. '^'Ngnor, si,'' (yes, sir), he answered in the 
 manner of the Neapolitans. *' It is a most wonderful little 
 town, that of Viggiano," pursued our companion ; "there is 
 scarcely a man, woman, or child in it who does not play 
 some musical instrument, generally the violin, very often 
 with taste and feeling. I have seen a little child," he 
 added, " of three years old take the violin upon its knee 
 and play, not merely with accuracy, but with a style and 
 manner quite surprising." It would appear as if this talent 
 were quite innate, since no one teaches the people, but 
 they seem to grow naturally into it. 
 
 Civita Castellana is a few miles to the west of the Tiber, 
 with which it is connected by a small tributary called the 
 Treja. It is situated upon an undulating plateau, but, 
 like Veii, is environed by deep ravines, which entrench it 
 on all sides excepting the south, where it subsides into the 
 plain or table-land towards Nepi and Monterosi. The 
 ravines are doubtless the result of volcanic disturbances 
 which have torn the tufaceous rock into these enormous 
 rents, at the bottom of which streams of water run, turning 
 several picturesque mills in their course. The sides of 
 the cliffs are excavated in many places by numerous 
 Etruscan tombs. The chasms are crossed by two lofty 
 modern bridges leading into the town. The town itself 
 is not remarkable, except for that quaintness and irregu- 
 larity of structure so frequently met with in Italy. It has a 
 fine cathedral front or portico of delicate and graceful 
 architecture, with mosaics by the Cosmati, the celebrated 
 mosaic workers of the thirteenth century. Various remains 
 of ancient Roman marbles are built into the walls of the 
 
220 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 houses here and there. Its mediaeval history is embodied 
 in the sturdy old fortress built by San Gallo for Pope 
 Alexander the Sixth, still maintained, as has been said, as 
 a garrison. Not only is the situation of the town romantic 
 and beautiful in itself, but it is surrounded by a country 
 which embraces every variety of spreading champaign, 
 deep-green woods and far-away hillside slopes spotted 
 with, towns and villages — all overlooked by the towering 
 Soracte and the more distant mountains of Sabina. 
 
 Here stood Falerii, one of the oldest and most powerful 
 cities of Etruria. Its origin is involved in obscurity. The 
 peculiar character of its position would doubtless cause it 
 to be chosen as one of the first settlements in this part of 
 Italy. It is first mentioned as having united arms with 
 the Veientes and Fidenates against Rome in the year four 
 hundred and thirty-seven before Christ, when the allied 
 forces were defeated by Cornelius Cossus under the walls 
 of Fidenae, as already narrated. Still maintaining the 
 strongest enmity against Rome, the Falisci did their best 
 to induce the inhabitants of the surrounding country to assist 
 the Veientes in their last struggle against their powerful 
 enemies. This brought upon them the vengeance of the 
 Romans. After the fall of Veii, Camillus led his army 
 into the territory of the Falisci, who, witnessing from their 
 walls the slaughter and depredations committed around 
 them, issued from the city, establishing themselves on the 
 summit of a steep place of difficult access, about a mile 
 distant. Camillus, however, succeeded in obtaining pos- 
 session of a situation which commanded theirs, and thence 
 making an onslaught upon them, drove them back with 
 considerable losses into the city, which was then besieged ; 
 but its reduction might have been as protracted an under- 
 taking as that of Veii had not a fortunate chance occurred 
 to further the cause of the Romans. 
 
 A schoolmaster, having under his care the children of 
 some of the chief families at Falerii, was accustomed to 
 take them for recreation without the walls of the city. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. ' 221 
 
 One day he led them gradually nearer to the enemies' 
 circumvallations, until they had overpassed the boundary 
 and found themselves at the door of Camillus' tent. The 
 schoolmaster then delivered the children into the hands of 
 Camillus, telling him that by this means he gave him the 
 power to make his own terms with the besieged city. 
 Camillus, however, rejected the proposal with great scorn, 
 saying that the Romans fought as men and soldiers, not as 
 robbers and traitors ; and placing rods in the hands of the 
 youths, stripped their schoolmaster, and bade them drive 
 him back to the city to receive the reward of his treachery. 
 This piece of good faith on the part of the Romans so 
 affected their enemies that they at once entered into an 
 armistice, and finally yielded themselves in allegiance to 
 Rome. 
 
 The peace, however, was not a permanent one. Many 
 subsequent collisions took place. The last was in the year 
 two hundred and forty-one before Christ. This rebellion 
 was punished by the Falisci being driven from the strong- 
 hold of their city, and compelled to establish themselves 
 on a plain four miles away, only protected on one side by 
 a deep gorge ; all the other parts of their colony being left 
 exposed to an easy attack from without ; the new city 
 losing its Etruscan character, and becoming a Roman 
 settlement. 
 
 A few fragments of primitive mural structure and the 
 above-mentioned tombs which perforate the rocks are 
 almost all the substantial indications left of the earlier 
 city ; and yet it seems filled with an indefinite atmos- 
 phere of the past — those vague intimations of a former 
 greatness and vitality which sometimes crowd the mind 
 with mysterious surmisings in visiting spots known to 
 have been the theatre of great doings, or the scenes of 
 important events to the human race. As I stood at my 
 window at night just before retiring to rest, and every 
 sound was hushed but the murmur of the stream deep 
 down in the ravine, and the pale half-moon illuminated the 
 
222 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 cleft here and there, leaving a dark shadow at the bottom, 
 and the far Ciminian range steeped in spectral light 
 seemed yet to retain the eeriness with which superstition 
 once invested it, the boastful Roman appeared to my 
 mind's eye standing across the hollow gulf, taunting his foe 
 with gestures and contumelious reproaches to come forth 
 and fight, whilst in the town the people ran hither and 
 thither, uncertain what might be the issue of the conflict. 
 
 The next morning we went in search of the new 
 city, the Roman Falerii. Our way lay along a pleasant 
 road of three or four miles through flowery pastures, exten- 
 sive corn-fiields, and dwarfed plantations. The harvest was 
 everywhere being gathered in, although it was only the 
 month of June. Bands of reapers were singing merrily 
 at their toil, followed by gleaners in true pastoral fashion. 
 Doubtless, as they went, the reapers would now and 
 then drop an ear or two for the old women and girls, who 
 promptly answered their songs in their rear. At a neigh- 
 bouring encampment some refreshed themselves upon rustic 
 fare, or laughed and chatted in the shade. The reapers 
 and gleaners were followed by ploughmen, in ranks of ten 
 or a dozen, whose implements were of the rudest possible 
 construction. They were drawn by sturdy yokes of grey 
 oxen, whose ponderous force slowly turned up the furrows 
 to the sun as they received the shouts of their drivers with 
 stolid indifference. Occasionally we met flocks of goats, or 
 droves of oxen, leisurely booming their bells along the 
 dusty road, driven by a man or boy or young girl, looking 
 so charmingly rustic, so much removed from every influence 
 but that of the sun, the fresh air, and simple country 
 experiences, that it seemed as if Chloe and Corydon were 
 once more amongst us, and the idyllic Arcadia returned to 
 protest against modern improvements and the revolutions 
 of ages. It was almost quite suddenly that we came upon 
 Falerii. The efiect upon the mind was startling. A turn 
 of the road brought the walls of the city full into view. 
 They stand almost as complete as when they were put 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 223 
 
 together. They are of massive construction, consisting of 
 great blocks of the red tufa of the country adjusted with 
 the utmost care and nicety. In one place they reach a 
 height of thirty-two feet from the bottom of a hollow. At 
 intervals square towers occur all round the city. Two 
 arched gateways still remain, the one surmounted at the 
 keystone by a time-worn head, which is supposed to have 
 represented that of Jupiter, and the other by the head of an 
 ox. Here and there the walls are hung with ivy, or plumed 
 with straggling shrubs, but for the most part they stand 
 naked to the sun, rising out of the rank tangled growth at 
 their feet in desolate grandeur. There is something very 
 affecting in the loneliness of these walls that once inclosed 
 a city of which scarcely a vestige remains. I could well 
 understand what an acquaintance once told me, — that the 
 sight drew tears from his eyes. An intense stillness pre- 
 vailed around ; not even a breath disturbed the air as we 
 entered the limits of the vanished city. The undulating 
 plain upon which once stood theatre and forum and piscina, 
 is now covered with waving grain, here and there sur- 
 mounted by the fragment of some broken ruin that tells no 
 tale of its former purpose. At the western extremity of 
 the ancient town there is a church, together with an old 
 monastery, which has been utilized for the residence of 
 farm labourers. It is called Santa Maria di Falleri. The 
 church is of the Lombard style, twelfth century, of very 
 beautiful construction. It is fast falling to decay, though it 
 wants little more than the roof (which fell in eighteen 
 hundred and twenty-nine) to preserve it for many years to 
 come. It consists of a nave, aisle, and transept, containing 
 five apses. Several of the columns, which must formerly 
 have supported some temple of the ancient city, are of 
 fluted marble. Blocks of antique Roman ornament are 
 also let into the walls. But the most valuable part of it is 
 a fine white marble portico by the Cosmati. It is com- 
 posed of four graceful Corinthian columns, two on each 
 side, and a scries of clustering arches. In the highest 
 
224 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 point of one of these a mosaic cross has been inserted 
 which is now destroyed It is deplorable that so beautiful 
 a monument of the taste and skill of these accomplished 
 artists should be lost in ruin, which it assuredly will be 
 unless the portal be carried away within a few years. 
 There is something saddening in the juxtaposition of this 
 Christian temple with the remains of a worn-out age : the 
 symbols of paganism and Christianity both mingling their 
 dust in a common decay. 
 
 To the botanist and lover of Nature the neighbourhood 
 of this old city during the summer months presents an 
 endless variety of interest. It is everywhere surrounded 
 with the most luxuriant growth of wild plants and flowers, 
 which burst from the soil in the most brilliant profusion, as 
 if vying with each other which should make the greatest 
 show. The ravine that lies under the walls to the south is 
 quite a galaxy of glories, peopled by tribes of many-coloured 
 butterflies, that disport theraselves gaily up and down these 
 glittering parterres of Nature's sowing, whilst the old walls 
 stand round gloomily, as if deploring the changes they have 
 witnessed. 
 
 As we stood examining some ruins outside the walls, 
 we were civilly accosted by a handsome-looking man on 
 horseback, dressed in white tights and a short jacket. He 
 carried a gun in his hand, having an air of energy and 
 spirit that, in spite of his rustic garments, proclaimed him 
 to be one more accustomed to command than obey. Indeed 
 he was the lord of the manor, and proprietor of the sur- 
 rounding territory. We entered into conversation with 
 him. He answered all our questions with much politeness, 
 and pointed out the supposed more important sites of the 
 ancient city. He said that of late years decay had made 
 large ravages, so that what little there was within his 
 recollection was fast passing away. After an interchange 
 of civilities, he rode ofl" at a brisk pace to superintend the 
 labours of his estate, and we retraced our way along the 
 road, always with the grand view of Soracte before us, 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 225 
 
 which, with a mighty sweep, rose from the spreading plain, 
 soft and bright in the brilliant sunshine. 
 
 From Civita Castellana v/e once more took the train for 
 a short distance, as the railway still follows the course of 
 the river. The country it passes through is of a quiet 
 pastoral order ; a kind of valley, in which are heard the 
 bells of pasturing cattle, pleasant human voices, and songs 
 of birds. On each side the hills rise with various acclivities, 
 chequered with fields and trees, and surmounted by the 
 same citadel-like towns. Every moment brought into view 
 a fresh panorama, always with the river flowing through it ; 
 sometimes rippling over pebbly shallows by groves of white- 
 stemmed poplars, sometimes laving the borders of the vine- 
 yards, in which the vines hung from tree to tree in long 
 festoons, sometimes singing amongst the stooks of reaped 
 corn, or creeping round the spurs of the hills, like fragments 
 of amethyst set amongst the stones. 
 
 About five miles from Borghetto, on the right, is the little 
 village of Otricoli which represents Ocriculum, a municipal 
 town of some importance under the ancient Romans. 
 About the same distance from Otricoli, the Nar joins the 
 Tiber, one of its most important tributaries. Although on 
 this occasion we did not deviate from our direct route to 
 follow this stream, yet as I had previously passed along it 
 as far as Terni, I shall here give some little sketch of its 
 course in the neighbourhood of the Tiber. 
 
 The Nar rises in the Eastern Apennines, at the foot of 
 Monte Sibilla (the Mons Fiscellus of Pliny), to the north of 
 Norcia. It is about forty miles in length. For the first 
 ten miles from its confluence with the Tiber it follows a 
 rocky gorge between the mountains, boiling and roaring 
 from rock to rock like a seething caldron. 
 
 The first town met with on its banks is that of Narnia, 
 built upon the precipice of a high hill, beneath which the 
 boisterous river pursues its course. This town is situated 
 on the Flaminian Way, fifty-six miles from Rome, and 
 eight from the mouth of the stream from which it takes its 
 
226 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 name. Before it came into the occupation of the Romans 
 it was called Nequinum. Three hundred years before the 
 Christian era, it was besieged by the consul Apuleius. 
 Whilst the siege was going on, two inhabitants of the 
 town, whose residences were near the wall, formed a 
 subterranean passage, and presented themselves before 
 the advanced guard of the Romans. They were taken to 
 the consul, to whom they made an offer of opening a way 
 for his army into the town. One of these men being de- 
 tained as hostage, the other was sent with two spies to 
 reconnoitre. Three hundred armed soldiers were then 
 introduced into the city by night, who, breaking open the 
 nearest gate, allowed the Roman army to enter the town, 
 of which they presently took undisputed possession. A 
 colony of Romans was afterwards established here in order 
 to protect the Umbrian border, the town taking the name 
 of Narnia from the river. It would appear henceforward to 
 have been a tolerably flourishing municipal town under 
 Roman rule. It was the birthplace of the Roman emperor 
 Nerva. The most remarkable of its antiquities is the cele- 
 brated bridge now in ruins, which was built by Augustus 
 for the purpose of carrying the Flaminian Way across the 
 river. From the fragments of it which remain, it is evident 
 that it must have been a noble structure. Martial alludes 
 to it in one of his epigrams addressed to Narnia, the resi- 
 dence of his friend Quintus Ovidius. " Narnia," he says, 
 " surrounded by the river Nar with its sulphureous waters, 
 thou whom thy double heights render almo.st inaccessible, 
 why does it please thee so often to take from me and 
 detain with wearisome delay my friend Quintus .'* Why 
 dost thou lessen the attractions of my Nomentan farm, 
 which was valued by me because he was my neighbour 
 there } Have pity on me at length, Narnia, and abuse 
 not thy possession of Quintus, so mayest thou delight in 
 thy bridge for ever." * 
 
 * Narnia, sulfureo quam gurgite candidiis amnis 
 Circuit, &c. — vii. 93. 
 
Chap. IX. 
 
 FROM SCORANO TO TODL 
 
 227 
 
 Following the course of the Nar to where it is joined 
 by the Velino, we reach ^ 
 
 Terni, the ancient flour- 
 ishing municipality of 
 Interamna, formerly an 
 Umbrian city of high 
 antiquity. It was once 
 proposed by the Roman 
 senate to divert the 
 waters of the Nar from 
 the Tiber in order to 
 lessen the overflowings 
 of the latter. This, how- 
 ever, was protested a- 
 gainst by the Interam- 
 nates, who urged that if 
 such were to be the case, 
 some of the most fruit- 
 ful territories of Italy 
 would be submerged at 
 times of flood. The plan 
 was afterwards aban- 
 doned. So fertile was 
 the country, that Pliny 
 says it gave four crops 
 of grass in the year. It 
 was occupied by the 
 troops of Vitellius in the 
 civil war with Vespasian. 
 About three miles above 
 Terni are the falls of the 
 Velino. They are formed 
 by an artificial cutting 
 made by the Roman 
 consul Marcus Curius 
 Dentatus to draw off* the falls of ternl 
 
 the Vv'aters of a lake which is above them. It is useless to 
 
228 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 add to the much that has been said and written about these 
 falls. Nothing could be finer or more romantic than this 
 noble sheet of water falling over the rocks, nor the scenery 
 by which it is surrounded. 
 
 Rejoining the Tiber, just below Orte, the landscape is 
 diversified by numerous square mediaeval towers, which 
 stand upon the hills like recording pillars of Time, marking 
 its lapse by their still decay. Presently the heights of 
 Orte are seen to rise in solemn majesty. It is built upon 
 an abrupt and lofty cliff, its long line of irregularly con- 
 structed houses broken by a campanile with perforated 
 arcade windows and a low dome. As we approached it, 
 the setting sun shone through the arches of a long aqueduct 
 that stretches on one side of it, whilst purple mists began 
 to line the valley. 
 
 Before leaving Rome I had been fortunate enough to have 
 made the acquaintance of a doctor who combined the ac- 
 complishments of an artist and scholar with those of his 
 profession. He was a native of Orte ; and when I told him 
 of my proposed visit to that town he at once promised to 
 write to his father, resident there, and also gave me a letter. 
 He told me that there was no good inn there, but that either 
 his father would himself receive me and my friends or else 
 he would be able to find us a domicile. Accordingly, on 
 arriving at the railway station, which is not very distant 
 from the town, we requested to be driven to the house of 
 the gentleman to whom we had the introduction. Ascend- 
 ing the lofty elevation upon which the town is placed, 
 we were filled with wonder at the quaint houses which hung 
 above the precipice as if a breath would blow them over. It 
 was not easy to see where man had begun his work or 
 nature ceased, so brown, so old, so native to the rock did 
 these quaint houses appear. As we entered the town the 
 narrow streets, the gloomy corners, the arched and rearched 
 passages, through which the light fell on Rembrandt-like 
 figures, the winding steps, the pretty shrines, each with 
 its little lamp, behind which the face of the Madonna was 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 229 
 
 seen looking through festoons of hanging foliage, the curious 
 old-world aspect of everything, seemed to transport one 
 into the land of antique romance, the dream of some 
 mediaeval poet or painter. 
 
 The house of our destination was entered at the back 
 by a narrow passage. On presenting myself I was met 
 by a venerable-looking gentleman in a long coat, and wear- 
 ing a berretta or cap of dark velvet on his head. He had a 
 long grey beard, a mild expression of countenance, an eye 
 undimmed by age, and that gentleness and repose of man- 
 ner and demeanor which is the proper heritage of ages of 
 culture and refinement. At the same time his daughter 
 came forwards with a pleasant smile. She had passed the 
 age of girlhood, but was still young. With considerable claims 
 to good looks, she was something better than good-looking. 
 Her smile was as open as sunshine, her manner easy and 
 elegant. She welcomed me as the lady of the house, and 
 said that they had provided accommodation for us with 
 them. In vain I protested against the inconvenience that 
 three guests, and those strangers, must make in their quiet 
 household. No * nay ' would be allowed ; everything had 
 been prepared, and we must come. The warmth and 
 generosity of our reception, than which nothing could have 
 been more friendly or homelike, soon put us at our ease. 
 The house was a very old-fashioned one, built of good solid 
 mediaeval stone. It was one of those situated on the edge 
 of the precipice, overlooking the picturesque, winding valley 
 through which the yellow river flowed in sweeping curves 
 and long-tracked lines. The interior consisted of a central 
 hall, in which was a ponderous fire-place surmounted by a 
 heavy stone cornice, something like our English residences 
 of three hundred years ago. Out of this central hall the bed- 
 chambers opened. The room was ornamented with some 
 very creditable oil paintings from the hand of our accom- 
 plished hostess. A guitar with some music lay upon the 
 table ; other signs of cultivated occupation being visible. 
 What was not the least remarkable was that in one of the 
 
 R 
 
230 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER: Chap. IX. 
 
 dirtiest towns of Italy, apparently with no underground 
 
 drainage, and amidst so 
 much that was squalid and 
 filthy, here the most perfect 
 and scrupulous cleanliness 
 reigned throughout, from 
 speckless linen to well- 
 washed floors and walls. 
 All this was refreshing to 
 find in a place where we had 
 expected to find nothing ; 
 for although Orte is within 
 two miles of a railway, yet 
 very few strangers think of 
 visiting it, and none of re- 
 maining there any length 
 of time. Our host was what 
 is called a possedente, a 
 holder of property in the 
 town, living in that kind of 
 generous simplicity which, 
 without being profuse, is 
 sufficiently abundant. Pre- 
 sently he and I turned out 
 for a ramble together. He 
 pointed out the notables of 
 the place ; professing that 
 there was little in the town 
 to interest a stranger, at 
 the same time giving me 
 little peeps into the social 
 and domestic life of the 
 place, which I found very 
 amusing. 
 
 The town is Etruscan in 
 its origin. Many cave-like 
 excavations are to be seen 
 
 THE TIBER, FROM ORTE. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCO R A NO TO TODI. 231 
 
 in the rocks, which have probably served for tombs, 
 possibly for residences. In some of the oldest houses it 
 would almost appear as if traces of the Etruscan manner 
 were retained in the depressed pointed arches formed of 
 solid blocks of tufa above the doors and windows. The 
 town was called Horta by the ancient Romans, probably 
 from the name of an Etruscan goddess. It became a 
 military colony in the time of Augustus. The road from 
 Falerii to Ameria crossed the river just below the town 
 by a bridge, the remains of which are still left standing. 
 
 Modern Orte of course has its head caffe, where the 
 loiterers and gossipers assemble in the evening, some of 
 them even during the day (for there is little business of 
 any kind transacted in the smaller Italian towns), for the 
 purposes of discussion and fellowship. One very charac- 
 teristic sight struck me here ; not, by the way, the only 
 town in Italy where the same thing may be seen. Giving 
 on to the Piazza there was a low unglazed window protected 
 by a stout iron grating, which lighted a small cell or 
 chamber — the prison of the town — in which there was 
 a young man with matted hair and otherwise neglected 
 toilette walking uneasily to and fro like a caged lion. As I 
 paused to look in at his window he came and put his hand 
 through the grate, asking me to give him something. He 
 could see all that went on in the Piazza, and now and then 
 a friendly gossip would come and entertain him with a little 
 chat. 
 
 Whilst we were thus walking about the town I began to 
 talk of my proposed expedition, asking Signor F — as to 
 the best means of making the journey to Orvieto along the 
 course of the river, when an honest-looking young man, who 
 had heard a part of our conversation, came forward, and 
 asked if he had heard aright, that I wanted to go to Orvieto, 
 and then proceeded to say that as he knew the road very 
 well, having frequently passed to and fro in his capacity of 
 miller with corn and flour, perhaps he could assist the 
 gentleman. As he was known to Signor F — , I finally 
 concluded a bargain with him to accompany us, stating 
 
 R 2 
 
232 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 my desire to follow as nearly as possible the course of the 
 river the whole way. He said he could not leave his occu- 
 pation the following day, nor indeed would he be able to find 
 horses, which were the only means of making the journey, at 
 so short a notice. I was unwilling to make this delay if 
 possible, for I felt that we might be trespassing upon the 
 hospitality of our host. My objections, however, were over- 
 ruled by Signor F — , and as nothing else so satisfactory 
 could be arranged, I at last consented to remain. 
 
 When we returned to the house the active hands of our 
 hostess and the cook had prepared for us a most abundant 
 and excellent supper in an upper chamber, for which the 
 politeness of our entertainers made many unnecessary 
 apologies. As we sat over our wine, which was of the best, 
 we had much conversation, finding our entertainers as intel- 
 ligent as they were kind and agreeable. The discourse of 
 Signor F — was marked by a philosophic breadth and 
 temperance of view on subjects about which men often 
 dispute and wrangle, as religion and politics, which are 
 amongst the noblest fruits of years and experience. After 
 supper we returned to the general sitting-room or hall 
 before described. The moon was shining over the dim 
 valley, through which the river winded like a silver serpent. 
 A profound stillness reigned in the air. Here and there a 
 little light glittered amongst the hills. The moment was an 
 impressive one. At our request the Signorina took up her 
 guitar, singing us some very delightful songs, some of them 
 specially belonging to the district where she resided ; and 
 then we retired to rest, happy at the close of a happy day. 
 
 The next day was chiefly spent in wandering about the 
 town and sketching, material for which is here abundant. 
 Whilst we were sitting in the house in the evening Basileo, 
 our promised guide, came in, drew a chair into the 
 circle, and joined in the conversation. Here, indeed, the 
 kind of sacredness which belongs to the English household 
 did not appear to be at all understood, for presently a 
 woman with a child on some little errand entered in the 
 same unceremonious manner, as if the privilege of the house 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 233 
 
 were free to all. Basileo told us that the nearest place 
 where we should be able to spend the night in our forward 
 journey was Bagnorea, at a distance of about twenty-five 
 miles from Orte. At this place Signor F — had a friend, 
 to whom he gave us a letter, sending also a little barrel of 
 wine as an additional recommendation. It was finally 
 arranged that Basileo should be ready the following morn- 
 ing with four horses at daybreak. 
 
 Accordingly, with many farewells to our kind host and 
 hostess, the next morning we departed after the usual 
 number of delays, and a great deal of fumbling to attach 
 our travelling-bags to the horses. As we left Orte the 
 morning was slowly unfolding — bands of vapour clinging to 
 the hills, or reposing in the mountain hollows. At intervals 
 broken mediaeval towers rose from the rocks, every one of 
 which had its history in the belligerent ages, the river mists 
 creeping about their forlorn walls as if to hide their naked- 
 ness and ruin. Underneath the dusty grey olives shepherds 
 rested on their staves, as their flocks strayed on the 
 newly-shorn stubble amidst the gentle tinkling of fitful bells. 
 On a lofty elevation the town of Bassano rose on our left, 
 whilst at our right the river wandered away in whispering 
 shallows or slumbered in silent pools ; groves of poplars 
 lining its wide banks, and casting tremulous reflections into 
 the water. Spreading fields of grain or pulse intermingled 
 with orchards and groves, on which yet lay the silence of 
 the morning, made up the scene — a very soothing and tran- 
 quillizing one. Presently we entered a thick wood of fin 
 old trees echoing with the songs of hundreds of birds, 
 amongst which the chii chu of the nightingale was particu- 
 larly distinguishable. As each embowered ravine was passed 
 the eye was carried into endless vistas of dim foliage, over 
 which was drawn a thin blue veil of subtle vapour. Several 
 quaint towns or villages shone down upon us from their 
 heights as we passed beneath them, some of which we should 
 have been glad to explore pencil in hand, if time had 
 allowed. We had several small streams to cross. After 
 passing one of these we were alarmed by cries of distress. 
 
234 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 On turning round I saw H. seated, not very comfortably, 
 on the ground, his horse quietly stalking away without him. 
 The animal had put his foot into a hole and fallen, fortu- 
 nately just after having passed the stream. The rider, how- 
 ever, was soon reinstated, and no particular damage done. 
 About noon we reached our resting-place, more than mid- 
 way of the journey, at a little town called San Michele, 
 where our guide had some acquaintances, and promised us 
 un biwnpranzo (a good dinner). Unfortunately, however, 
 no place could be found for our horses. In vain we 
 passed and repassed the burning street to find so much as 
 a shed or sheltered corner where the poor beasts could be 
 protected from the rays of the sun. There was no such 
 thing in the whole place. At last we were permitted to tie 
 them in a little court, and after much trouble found a bundle 
 or two of dry stalks which was called hay. Here they 
 amused themselves by creeping as near to each other as pos- 
 sible, as if with the friendliest intentions, and then viciously 
 kicking each other. In the attempt to separate them during 
 one of these skirmishes I received a violent kick myself on 
 the thigh ; fortunately I was too near the heels of the brute 
 to suffer any serious injury. Basileo in the meantime 
 talked, talked loudly and constantly, over all the plans in 
 the world to secure the horses, but did nothing, being 
 evidently about as great an adept in regard to horses as 
 Mr. Charles Swidger junior was in the art of navigation — 
 '•'which knew nothing of boats whatever," Certainly the 
 poor horses, in spite of their exciting and animated procli- 
 vities, had the worst of it ; for we were taken to the doctor 
 of the place, where an abundant and sufficiently good dinner 
 was found for us, to which we did ample justice. After 
 dinner we were allowed to doze for half an hour in the 
 doctor's bedchamber. I occupied myself with examining his 
 library, which was of a rather miscellaneous sort, on a 
 little side table. The only medical books I observed had 
 at least the weight of antiquity to recommend them ; though 
 I confess I was irreverent enough to hope that I might be 
 preserved from the medical treatment of Hippocrates and 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCO R A NO TO TOD I. 235 
 
 Galen. Scarcely had our eyes been closed in a comfortable 
 nap before Basileo knocked at the door, saying it was time 
 to go forwards. Presently we were equipped and again on 
 our way. Passing through wide districts of waving corn we 
 entered an oak wood, offering exquisite vignettes of forest 
 pastoral scenery. The ground was covered with soft green 
 turf The trees were embowered high above us, through the 
 thick foliage of which the sun here and there fell, enamelling 
 the sward with patches of glittering gold. Thus pursuing our 
 way Basileo entertained H. with an account of the maraud- 
 ings of some malviveftti, or, in plain English, brigands, who 
 had infested the wood a few days before. We, however, 
 presently emerged into the open, and after a while entered 
 upon a high-road, which soon brought us within sight of our 
 destination. 
 
 It was on one of those golden evenings so common in 
 Italy, but which are never seen in northern latitudes, that 
 the first view of the town of Bagnorea met us across a deep 
 ravine, its row of white houses enriched with the gorgeous 
 hues of the setting sun. Up and down our way led u.s, 
 until we entered the town. As soon as we did so, and 
 Basileo had signified his desire to find a place of lodging 
 for his horses, a crowd of gabblers came round us, all speak- 
 ing at once. Presently we dismounted, the horses being led 
 off in triumph by the vociferous multitude. Curiosity, or 
 rather humanity, prompted me to see what might be their 
 future condition. I found them at the far end of a black- 
 smith's shop without any straw or other accommodation. 
 In vain we pointed out that there were proper stables, as 
 set forth in an advertisement over the door, a little lower 
 down the street. We were compelled at last to leave the 
 matter in the hands of Basileo, who flew hither and thither 
 in the hubbub, too excited to listen to anything. 
 
 It was suggested by my friends that instead of troubling 
 the friend of our host at Orvieto we might very well find out 
 the best inn in the place and go to it at once. I agreed, but 
 with misgivings. It turned out that there was only one 
 establishment in the whole place bearing the name of 
 
236 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 osteria, and thither we went. Its first appearance was not 
 promising ; but things might be somewhat better than they 
 looked ; they often are in Italy. On inquiry, we found 
 there was but one bedchamber, but it was large, and 
 had several beds in it, if the gentlemen could accommodate 
 themselves. H. went to see it ; but the horrors of that 
 prison-house were never completely unfolded. Enough. 
 We at once bore our note and the barrel of wine to 
 Signor M — . 
 
 Signor M — was a young married man, a half-pay in 
 the pope's service, having held a position under the pon- 
 tifical government, living under the expectation that the old 
 dominion would reassert its sway. He received us very 
 kindly, and was sorry that his establishment did not allow 
 him to offer us accommodation in his own house. Indeed, 
 it was with great difficulty that we obtained lodgment at 
 all ; for although Bagnorea is by no means an insignificant 
 town in regard to size, we were told that so few strangers 
 came there, that the inhabitants never thought of providing 
 anything more than they wanted themselves. At last we 
 found two rooms in separate houses, where we were lodged 
 decently, and fed tolerably — quite as well, perhaps, as we 
 might expect of a place so much out of the world. 
 
 Bagnorea was the Balneum Regis of the ancients, formerly 
 celebrated for its hot-water springs, which have now ceased 
 to flow in consequence of the earthquakes to which the 
 town and its neighbourhood have been subjected. In the 
 year sixteen hundred and ninety-five a great part of the 
 town was destroyed by one. It was conquered by the 
 Longobards in six hundred and six, and afterwards restored 
 to the papacy, first by Charlemagne and then by Otho 
 the Second, in the tenth century. It was once under the 
 government of cardinal legates, together with the provinces 
 of Viterbo. One of these legates was Cardinal Pole, 
 cousin to Henry the Eighth of England. The town consists 
 of one long street that runs to the edge of an enormous 
 volcanic basin, perhaps a couple of miles in diameter, from 
 the centre of which rises a lofty cone, composed of striated 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCO R A NO TO TOD I. 237 
 
 volcanic matter, upon which stands an almost deserted grey- 
 mediaeval town, called Civita Bagnorea, overtopped by a tall 
 square-built campanile. The picturesqueness of the latter 
 place, both externally and in the rambling windings of its 
 narrow lanes, is wonderful. Many architectural fragments of 
 antique Roman workmanship lie scattered about, or are built 
 into the walls, and several ancient columns are set up in front 
 of the cathedral. The approach to this little town is still more 
 marvellous. It is only accessible by narrow ridges or walls 
 with abrupt sides left in the gradual falling away of the 
 volcanic matter of which the stratum of this district is 
 composed. These traverse the profound gulf from the 
 table-land by which it is surrounded like narrow walls 
 stretched across abysses which make one giddy to look at, 
 much less pass over. The one adjoining Bagnorea furnishes 
 a somewhat nervous pathway ; but those on the other side 
 of the basin are much narrower and loftier ; so that the 
 groups of peasantry with their donkeys as they follow their 
 course seem suspended in the air. During a high wind 
 these pathways, which I was told are not more than three 
 feet wide in many places, are particularly perilous ; cases 
 have been known of persons having been blown from them 
 into the abyss beneath. 
 
 It was the day of a festa whilst we were there ; all the 
 characteristic finery of the townsfolk and surrounding 
 country being brought out for the occasion. The dress of 
 the women was particularly picturesque. It consisted of a 
 snow-white linen head-dress, a low, coloured, stiff boddice, 
 a gay handkerchief over the shoulders, and a coloured skirt, 
 most commonly blue. 
 
 The quaint little town of Civita Bagnorea was the birth- 
 place of St. Bonaventure, for his piety and learning called 
 the ' seraphic doctor ;' a man so remarkable in his day, and 
 now so lost sight of beneath the accumulation of centuries, 
 that a few words on his life and character may not be 
 unwelcome. 
 
 He was born of pious parents in the year one thousand 
 two hundred and twenty-one. His proper name was John 
 
238 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 of Fidanza. It is said that St. Francis of Assisi, when 
 dying, exclaimed of Giovanni, who had been healed by his 
 prayers of a severe illness in infancy, '' O buona ventura !'' 
 (O happy fortune !), from which circumstance he took the 
 name by which he was afterwards generally known. At the 
 age of twenty-two he assumed the Franciscan habit, and 
 afterwards became the first general of the order. He was 
 sent to Paris, where he studied under John of Hales, an 
 Englishman, who used to say of him, that in Bonaventure 
 the sin of Adam was not discernible. The legates of Pope 
 Gregory the Tenth brought him the cardinal's hat during his 
 stay at a convent a few leagues from Florence, where they 
 found him occupied in washing the dishes of the convent. 
 Without ceasing his task, he bade them hang it on a 
 neighbouring tree until he had finished. His humility 
 and activity for the good of others knew no bounds. 
 He died in one thousand two hundred and seventy-four, 
 in his fifty-third year, and was canonized by Sixtus the 
 Fifth five centuries afterwards. He left numerous works 
 behind him written in Latin, all of them distinguished 
 by a profound spiritual mysticism, great fervency, and an 
 irresistible incisiveness and penetration of style. He was 
 possessed of a large vein of poetry — implied even in the 
 names of some of the works he wrote, as " The Nightingale 
 of the Passion of our Lord fitted to the Seven Hours," 
 " The Six Wings of the Cherubim and the Six Wings of the 
 Seraphim," ''The Soul's Journey to God." The theologic, 
 or, perhaps, it should rather be called the theosophic, 
 philosophy of St. Bonaventure is founded upon the prin- 
 ciples of a very solid induction, a substantial positivism, 
 which is the only true basis of theology, as it is of every 
 other science. He proceeds from the known to the un- 
 known, from sense to spirit. He carries the mortal and 
 sensible up to the Divine rather than attempts to bring 
 the Divine down to the human level. His doctrine is 
 eminently one of development and progress based upon 
 actual experience ; each state or condition of the graduating 
 soul being generated by the antecedent one, and producing 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 239 
 
 another still more elevated to succeed it. One of the best 
 representative and most characteristic of his works is, " The 
 Soul's Journey to God," Itinerarium Mentis in Deum.* It 
 is a mystical and semi-philosophical disquisition on the 
 Highest Good, which he makes to consist in the soul's union 
 with its Creator attained through six steps or grades, as 
 follows : First, By means of the vestiges of God in the 
 outward world of creation ; second, By the same world of 
 sense as the habitation of God in essence and presence ; 
 third, By the mind as made in his image ; fourth, By faith 
 in the transforming power of Christ ; fifth. By the light of 
 the Holy Spirit ; sixth, By the contemplation of the 
 Blessed Trinity, in which is contained the sum of perfect 
 good. These steps he makes to correspond to the senses, 
 the imagination, reason, intellect, intelligence, and the 
 elevation of the mind in the apprehension of Truth ; and 
 again, to the six days of the week, the seventh being the 
 sabbath of rest attained in the condition of a divine ecstasy. 
 I will give a short extract from this work, to make his 
 system or mode of view the more clear. 
 
 ** Happiness," he says, " being nothing else than the 
 fruition of the highest good, and the highest good being 
 above us, no one can become happy and blessed excepting 
 by raising himself above himself, not in bodily ascension, 
 but in the elevation of the heart. To attain the first 
 principle, which is spiritual and eternal, and above us, it 
 is necessary to pass through the corporal and temporal ; 
 which is outside of us: this is to be led in the way of 
 God. We must also enter into our own minds, which are 
 the image of God, eternal and spiritual within us : this is to 
 walk in the truth of God. Moreover we must pass to the 
 
 * Amedee de Margerie, in his essay on the Philosophy of St. Bonaventure, 
 says : " Nous n'hesiterons pas a le dire : si \ Itinerarium Mentis in Deum 
 est une desplus belles consecrations que la philosophic ait faites aDieu de 
 toutes les facultes humaines, le Commentaire sur le li'vre des Sentences 
 contient une des plus excellentes theodicees qu'ait produites jusqu'ici 
 I'alliance de la foi et de la raison, une des plus victorieuses reponses qu'on 
 puisse donner a ceux qui nient I'influence du christianisme pour clever et 
 transformer la raison humaine." 
 
240 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 eternal Spirit, regarding the First Principle : this is to rejoice 
 in the tidings of God and in the reverence of his majesty." 
 
 In his Soliloquies he says, " I will return from the ex- 
 ternal to the internal, and from the internal I will ascend to 
 the supernal, that I may know whence I came and whither 
 I go, wherefore I am and what I am ; and so by the know- 
 ledge of myself I may ascend to the knowledge of God." 
 
 Dante introduces Bonaventure in the ' Paradiso' as singing 
 the praises of St. Dominic. 
 
 Of Bonaventure I the vital part, 
 
 From Bagnoregio, w^ho always set - 
 
 The meaner for the nobler cares aside.* 
 
 He is also conspicuously represented in Raphael's fresco 
 of the Disputa in the Vatican. 
 
 The next stage of our journey was from Bagnorea to 
 Orvieto, a distance of about ten miles. This we performed 
 partly on foot and partly on the backs of asses, accompanied 
 by a cheery and astute countryman of a good manly type, 
 who entertained us on the way with some racy information 
 concerning his country and people, touched now and then 
 with that good-natured and sceptical kind of sarcasm which 
 has obtained the name of Macchiavelism. The country was 
 very peaceful and quiet — the very ideal of the 'Golden 
 Age,' when everybody was occupied in rural pursuits, and 
 the simplest form of agricultural practice was the traditional 
 heritage from father to son. Shepherds, leaning upon their 
 staves beneath the shade of the brown olive, watched their 
 flocks all day. The swineherd tended his swarthy multi- 
 tude. Bullocks in affectionate pairs drew loads of corn and 
 other produce on sledges along the worst of roads ; the use 
 of wheels being apparently unknown, or perhaps set aside 
 as a useless modern invention calculated to destroy the 
 severe simplicity of the pastoral life. The bullocks accus- 
 tomed to be yoked together, our guide told us, sometimes 
 grew so affectionate to each other that it was difficult to 
 
 * lo son la vita di Bonaventure 
 
 Da Bagnoregio, che ne' grandi uffici 
 Sempre posposi la sinistra cura. 
 
 c. xii. 127. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 241 . 
 
 separate them : neither the one nor the other would allow a 
 rival in the affections of his companion without showing the 
 utmost jealousy and uneasiness. In spite of the primitive- 
 ness of agricultural operations, the country did not appear to 
 be wanting in wealth, judging from the not infrequent villas 
 and large houses surrounded by groves and orchards which 
 were scattered at intervals on our way ; looking, it is true, 
 as if uninhabited ; for never a living soul was seen about 
 them, as they blinked, bare and white, with closed jalousies 
 in the hot sunshine. Then there were deep and shady 
 lanes bordered with hazels and feathery ferns, through 
 which the sun, here and there, shot bright shafts of light, 
 making glad the hearts of joyful birds ; there were hedge- 
 rows garlanded with white roses fencing in the green vine- 
 yards ; there were tall palmy-leaved chestnuts showing an 
 abundance of bristly fruit fast ripening in the heat of 
 summer, and then beautiful upland slopes of corn waving 
 in the wind, and yellow for the sickle of the reaper. At 
 last we reached a quaint mediaeval village or little town 
 called Porano, girt about with sturdy walls, and having a 
 massive old towered gateway for entrance. Amidst the 
 wonder of the inhabitants we traversed the narrow street, 
 and entering the back-room of an osteria, the walls of which 
 were decorated with landscapes in distemper of the usual 
 order, found a welcome refreshment in some tolerable wine. 
 A few miles more, and we came upon the valley of the 
 Paglia — a tributary of the Tiber, which it joins three or 
 four miles lower down — and after pausing a few minutes to 
 examine the ruins of an old abbey, of which strange stories 
 are told, we crossed the river and ascended the height upon 
 which Orvieto is built 
 
 Remote and high, 
 AVhich from the ancient Romans had its name, 
 Who thither went because the air is pure.* 
 
 * La citta d'Urbivieto e alta e strana: 
 Questa da' Roman vecchi il nome prese, 
 Gh'andavan la perche I'aere v'e sana. 
 
 Fazio degli Uberti, 11 Dittamondo. 
 
242 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 Orvieto is the ancient Etruscan town Herbanum, men- 
 tioned by Pliny. It afterwards appears to have borne 
 the name of Urbs Vetus, of which its modern one is a 
 corruption. Long before Roman rule, however, it must 
 have been an important Etruscan town or city. Numerous 
 tombs of very ancient origin were discovered in eighteen 
 hundred and sixty-three on the opposite side of the valley 
 across the river, two of which still remain open. They are, 
 like many other Etruscan tombs, placed at the end of long 
 galleries cut into the rock, the galleries or passages being 
 about thirty-five yards long. They have arched ceilings cut 
 into the shape of planks sloping from a transverse beam, 
 the sides being decorated with very beautiful paintings of 
 men and animals, the former almost Phoenician in type. 
 Numbers of figures are seated at a banquet, or perhaps a 
 funeral feast, which is pictured in all its stages, from the 
 kitchen where the slaves are busied in the offices of cooking, 
 to its being served on the table. In one of them is a plain 
 sarcophagus of arenaceous tufa. There are several 
 Etruscan inscriptions on the walls. Numerous others have 
 been opened in the same cliff, some of them containing 
 articles of jewelry, utensils, etc., but none of them painted, 
 with the exception of these two. 
 
 The situation of the town is extremely picturesque. It 
 is built on a steep table-rock rising from the valley of the 
 Paglia, whose boundaries are penetrated by the ravines of 
 tiny streams which course the hills to reach the river. The 
 view of the city from beneath is particularly imposing, its 
 lofty line drawn across the sky conspicuously broken by the 
 tall facade of the cathedral, which is everywhere visible. 
 Inside it still retains traces of mediaeval habitudes in its 
 narrow^ streets, quaint architecture, and half-ruined old 
 moated castle at. the eastern extremity of the hill. 
 
 The name of England or Englishman figures more than 
 once in the history of Orvieto : first in thirteen hundred 
 and sixty-five, when a certain Andrew Belmont, who w^as 
 probably an English adventurer or condottiere, with a 
 company of his countrymen, in the interests of the Church, 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 243 
 
 opposed Annechino di Rougardo, head of the German 
 forces. The former were, however, worsted ; the Germans 
 leaving the country on payment of a subsidy. Belmont 
 had afterwards a quarrel with Gomez, the nephew of the 
 pope's legate, who left the English camp secretly by night, 
 and went to Orvieto. The English, however, immediately 
 encamped on the plains of the Paglia, beneath the town, 
 awaiting payment for their services to the Church, com- 
 mitting great havoc and depredations in the surrounding 
 territory in the meantime. The deputy legate Gomez upon 
 this recalled to him the successful Annechino, together 
 with other allies, who drove the English, bitterly complain- 
 ing of their unfair treatment, in the direction of Perugia. 
 When they arrived at a place called Santo Mariano a 
 battle took place, the Perugians joining the forces of the 
 Church, many English being slain and two hundred taken 
 prisoners to Perugia. They were afterwards liberated 
 under certain conditions ; but they quickly rallied, and 
 being joined by numerous other marauders, both Italian 
 and German, they defeated the Perugians in an engage- 
 ment, and then set themselves to ravage the country as 
 before.* 
 
 The name of Orvieto appears again in English history in 
 fifteen hundred and twenty-eight, when Dr. Stephen 
 Gardiner, Wolsey's secretary, and Dr. Edward Fox, almoner 
 to Henry the Eighth, were sent on an embassy to Pope 
 Clement the Seventh, at that time a refugee in Orvieto after 
 the siege and sack of Rome already described, in order to 
 obtain his permission for the king's divorce from Catherine 
 of Aragon. A letter written by them during their stay at 
 Orvieto is so characteristic and graphic in its details, that I 
 shall here transcribe it. It is dated the twenty-third of 
 March. 
 
 " Pleaseth it your grace to understand that we arrived 
 
 here at Orviett upon Saturday last past, in the morning, 
 
 and having no garments ne apparel other than the coats 
 
 we did ride in, being much worn and defaced by reason of 
 
 * See Gronaca d'Orvieto dal 1342 al 1368. Milano, 1845. 
 
244 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 the foul weather ; advertising the pope's holiness of our 
 coming by Mr. Gregorie, we were compelled to tarry all 
 that day and the next day within the house whiles our 
 garments were at the making ; wherein we thought very 
 great difficulty, all things here being in such a scarcity and 
 dearth as we think hath not been seen in no place ; and 
 that not only in victual, which cannot be brought into the 
 town, in no great quantity, by reason that all things is 
 conveyed by asses and mules, but also in other necessaries, 
 so as that cloth, chamlett, or such like merchandises, which 
 in England is worth twenty shillings is here worth six 
 pound, and yet not to be had in any quantity ; and had 
 we not made provision for our gowns at Luke [Lucca] we 
 must of necessity have gone in Spanish cloaks, such as we 
 could have borrowed of the pope's servants, wherein per- 
 adventure should have been found some difficulty, foras- 
 much, as far as we can perceive, few men here have more 
 garments than one. And had not Mr. Gregorie resided 
 here, and, advertised of our coming, made preparation for 
 our lodging, borrowing, as he said, of divers men so much 
 as might furnish us three beds, we had been [in ill case]* at 
 our coming into this town, being a very foul day, as hath 
 been seen, and we within a mile of the town compelled to 
 pass a river on horseback, wherein we rode so deep as the 
 water came almost to our girdelsced, and so wet us, as 
 upon that surfeit one of our servants is at this house in 
 extreme danger of life, and rather like to die than live, 
 whose death should be as great loss as can be in a young 
 man, being himself singularly well learned in physic, in the 
 Greek and Latin tongues, as any we know. We suppose 
 you know him well ; his name is Richard Herde. He was 
 wont to resort much to me, Stephyn Gardyner, there, and 
 dwelleth with Master Chancellor of Duchie. If he skape 
 
 * I have conjecturally supplied this lacuna. I found the letter, in the 
 first instance, in Mr. Pocock's edited " Records of the Reformation." On 
 referring to the original, in the library of the British Museum [Harl. 419, 
 fol. 72] in order to supply, if possible, what might here have been left out, 
 I found Mr. Pocock had printed the letter exactly as he had found it. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 2+5 
 
 it, the physicians here think it a great matter. Mr. Gregorie 
 shewed us that midsummer there cometh a wind ab Aiistro 
 which infecteth all men being in this city and not borne in 
 these parts, pestilente morbo, by reason of a river coming 
 within a mile of the city. It may well be called Urbs 
 vetus, for every man in all languages would give it none 
 other name. We cannot well tell how the pope should be 
 noted in liberty, being here where scarcity, ill-favoured 
 lodging, ill-air, and many other incommodities, keep him 
 and all his as straightly as he was ever kept in Castel 
 Angel. It is aliqua mutacio soli, sed nulla libertatis, and in 
 manner the pope could not deny to Mr. Gregory, but it 
 were better to be in captivity at Rome than here at liberty. 
 The pope lieth in an old palace of the bishops of this city, 
 ruinous and decayed, where, or we come to his pryvey 
 chamber, we pass three chambers, all naked and unhanged, 
 the roofs fallen down, and as we can guess thirty persons, 
 rif raf and other, standing in the chambers for a garnish- 
 ment. And as for the pope's bed-chamber, all the apparel 
 in it was not worth twenty nobles, bed and all. It is a fall 
 from the top of the hill to the lowliest part of the mountain, 
 where was primus assensus, which every man in manner 
 useth for his commodity. For besides that the Venecians, 
 Duke of Ferrare and Florentynes have done, they of 
 Viterbe rebell, and kepe off the city from the pope for their 
 use, trusting that the Spaniards shall have the victory. 
 Also Sigismundus de Maltesta hath entered again into 
 Ariminum, which Monsieur de Lautreke restored to the 
 pope, and keepeth it. The pope is determined by the 
 advice of such as he has about him to make two or three 
 thousand of soteme* to expugne them of Viterbe to the 
 intent he may have access at his pleasure to Rome, which 
 now is letted by them. The victory in Naples is yet 
 ambiguous, and here no certainty what they will do there ; 
 some say they intend to strike battle — some nay." 
 
 Some curious pictures of mediaeval life in Orvieto are 
 presented to us in an old chronicle of the fourteenth 
 * I do not know the meaning of this term. 
 
246 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. IX. 
 
 century,* from which I will translate a few passages. The 
 strong party spirit, remorseless cruelty, and vindictive ferocity 
 of the time are well illustrated by the following extract. 
 
 " On Wednesday, the twenty-second of February, one 
 thousand three hundred and forty-six, in the third hour — 
 that is, on the festival of the Chair of St. Peter, a dis- 
 turbance was raised by Benedetto di Bonconte and all the 
 Guelphs of Orvieto with him crying, ' Success to the 
 Guelphs and death to the Ghibellines !' Presently a part of 
 them went to the house of Leonardo and another part to the 
 Piazza del Popolo to encounter the captain. The captain fled, 
 seekirfg shelter in the church of St. Dominic, the Ghibellines 
 not being able to unite themselves nor to succour Leonardo ; 
 and so they were discomfited and driven away, and Leo- 
 nardo was besieged in his stronghold and kept there until 
 the first sleep, and then it was given up to Benedetto di 
 Bonconte ; and Benedetto took Leonardo and led him away 
 prisoner to the fortress of the Sberni, which belonged to 
 Benedetto. After this there came many horse and foot 
 from the country of Perugia in aid of the Guelph party. 
 Leonardo was kept prisoner at the fortress until the twenty- 
 seventh of March, and on that day was given up to master 
 Matteo degli Orsini, who took him to Mugnano, and then 
 from Mugnano to Rome, where he arrived on the eighth of 
 April, that is to say the eve of Palm Sunday ; and on the 
 Monday of Holy Week, which was the tenth of April, 
 the son of master Matteo caused a carriage of wood 
 to be made and Leonardo to be placed upon it naked, 
 bound to a post, and to be wrung with heated pincers in 
 various parts of Rome, and then to be cut all to pieces 
 in the piazza before the castle of St. Angelo, the fragments 
 being afterwards gathered and thrown piece by piece into 
 the Tiber. So Leonardo died ; and it was said in Orvieto 
 that Benedetto had money sent to him from Rome for 
 giving up Leonardo. And so Benedetto remained lord of 
 
 * Cronaca d' Orvieto dal 1342 al 1363. Gia publicato da Ludovico 
 Antonio Muratori, ed ora in piu comoda forma ridotta e diligentemente 
 corretta. Milano. 1845. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 24; 
 
 Orvieto, and he caused the stronghold of Leonardo to be 
 pulled down, and denounced many Ghibellines. Thus was 
 accomplished the vengeance of master Matteo degli Orsini." 
 
 Although the old chronicle above quoted only goes over 
 a period of twenty-one years, the number of misfortunes 
 and disasters which are noted as having occurred during 
 that time are something incredible. It would seem as if 
 all the powers of nature and all the adverse forces of social 
 dislocation had conspired against the miserable inhabitants 
 of the city : and yet it does not appear that they were 
 worse off than those of other Italian cities of the same 
 period. Here is a sad picture — more sad, perhaps, than 
 wonderful to those who know the condition of some modern 
 Italian towns even, in which the traditional slovenliness 
 of the middle ages as to drainage and other conveniences 
 is probably very faithfully preserved. 
 
 *' In the calends of May, in the year one thousand three 
 hundred and forty, there began to be a great mortality 
 amongst the inhabitants of Orvieto, which went on in- 
 creasing day by day until the months of June and July, 
 when there had died five hundred Christians between great 
 and small, male and female. The mortality was so great 
 and the fear of it so strong amongst the people that they 
 died quite suddenly : one morning they were well and the 
 next dead. All work was suspended. This mortality 
 lasted until the calends of September, whence many families 
 and houses perished, it being calculated that by the time 
 it had ceased, a ninth part of the inhabitants had died, 
 those that were left remaining infirm and terrified, abandon- 
 ing their houses to the dead." 
 
 Not very long afterwards an earthquake was added to 
 their list of misfortunes : 
 
 " On Wednesday before the third hour, that is on the 
 ninth of September, in the year one thousand three hundred 
 and forty-nine, there was a great earthquake which threw 
 down many walls and large edifices, towers and residences : 
 also the water of the fountains of Orvieto became so turbid 
 as to present the appearance of milk and earth mixed 
 
 s 2 
 
248 " THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 together ; and so it remained for more than twelve days. 
 And as it was in Orvieto so was it also in many other 
 towns and villages, whence the people became alarmed ; 
 no labour being followed for more than six days ; and every 
 day there were processions and discipline." 
 
 They had scarcely recovered from the earthquake before 
 the city was wasted by a dreadful famine. 
 
 In the year one thousand three hundred and fifty-one 
 there arose a great civil contention, a part of the inhabit- 
 ants of Orvieto and its territory being without the city 
 and opposing those within. The commune of Perugia was 
 called upon to mediate between them. The contending 
 parties were at last brought together, and it was finally 
 concluded that the magistracy of Perugia should be esta- 
 blished in Orvieto. It was, however, quite insufficient to 
 maintain order and justice ; robbery and violence coh- 
 tinally occurring in the city. " Before the agreement was 
 made between the belligerents by this intervention, you 
 must know," says the historian, "there was the greatest 
 scarcity of every kind of provision ; for nothing to support 
 life was allowed to enter the city. Flour was not to be 
 had because the mills were ruined and no one was per- 
 m.itted to go out to repair them ; so that the people had 
 to grind their corn with handmills within the city, neither 
 in this were they altogether successful, since only a part 
 of them had the means to accomplish it. Pork was very 
 dear, being three soldi the pound ; lamb three soldi ; and 
 mutton three soldi and a half, and this very bad ; and 
 sometimes it happened that none at all could be had. 
 There was no water but that from the cisterns, which was 
 little enough, besides being putrescent, muddy, and rank, 
 so that many persons strained it for cookery and drinking. 
 Of vegetables there were scarcely any, and those who 
 were able to buy them could hardly have enough for four 
 persons for four soldi which were fit to eat ; and fre- 
 quently such were eaten as would not have been looked at 
 in more prosperous times. Wood was dear, and none 
 could be obtained excepting from the houses which wertf 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODI. 249 
 
 ruined throughout the city. Of salt there was little, and 
 those who had it would not sell it for less than at the rate 
 of twenty lire the quartengo. In this condition the city 
 stood ; so that every Oi-vietan was badly off; those within 
 not being able to go out to their farms and estates with 
 security, neither could those without return to their houses ; 
 for Benedetto di Bonconte and the sons of Pepo with their 
 families and friends drove them away with injury, doing 
 them every possible outrage ; each party striving to gain 
 an advantage over its adversary by taking possession of the 
 castles and strongholds ; those without endeavouring to 
 enter the city by force, those within keeping watch and 
 ward day and night : and in this manner they remained 
 for the space of three months, each attacking the other 
 as he saw his advantage." 
 
 One more extract from the history of Ciprian Manente 
 shall complete our illustration of its mediaeval condition. 
 
 " In the year one thousand four hundred and forty-nine 
 Orvieto was under the government of Arrigo, brother of 
 Gentile di Monaldeschi della Vipera, who was called Gentile 
 della Scala from being the proprietor of that place. During 
 the fourteen years that he had been in possession of Orvieto 
 he had prevented the Monaldeschi of Cervara with other 
 nobles and citizens of the Beffati faction from entering the 
 city, without recognising the pontificate of Rome ; although 
 the pope as well as the Beffati had tried more than once to 
 take the city from his tyrannical hands : to which end many 
 secret meetings between the Monaldeschi and others had 
 been convened at Bolsena, but without finding any way 
 to accomplish their purpose, the city being always well 
 guarded, although it had been brought to a state of great 
 calamity by reason of a pestilence of which a great many 
 of the inhabitants had died. But, as God pleased, it 
 happened that a mode of operation was offered by Gual- 
 tieri, a poor man of Porano, small of stature, but astute, 
 who entering Orvieto ill-clothed, and as a mendicant, went 
 to the hospital, and in the morning stood at the door of 
 ^he cathedral asking alms, in order that he might see the 
 
250 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. IX. 
 
 people and observe how things were going. Also during 
 the day he w^ent through the city and round the fortifica- 
 tions, begging in the same manner, but taking all the notice 
 he could of the persons he met and their procedure ; then 
 after having observed everything, he left the city and went 
 to the Befifati, showing them everything and arranging 
 what it was desirable to do. Accordingly, one evening, 
 Gualtieri returned to Orvieto with an iron nail of a pound 
 and a half weight, together with a long cord, concealed in 
 a bundle of wood, and went to the hospital without exciting 
 the suspicion of any one. When he saw the opportunity, 
 having privately taken away a hammer from the workshop 
 of Santa Maria, he fixed the nail to the projection of the 
 fortification under the guard-house of San Francesco, and 
 then hid the hammer ; doing all with so much dexterity 
 that the guard perceived nothing of it. He then gave a sign 
 to the Beffati, who were hidden in a neighbouring orchard. 
 On the night of Santa Lucia, the thirteenth of December, 
 the guard was changed, and when the patrol was past, 
 Gualtieri went to the place where he had fixed the nail, 
 and throwing down the cord, drew up a ladder of ropes 
 which the Beffati had brought, by means of which Signor 
 Corrado with seventy men of the Beffati faction quickly 
 mounted the defences, seizing the guard and other patrols 
 which were around, preventing them from crying out or 
 uttering a word by holding them bound in the guardhouse 
 with the sword at their throats. As Signor Corrado and 
 his followers were going by the street of San Francesco, they 
 met a tame deer, which had been reared in the house of 
 Signor Gentile, which, having bells about its neck, and 
 returning towards the house along the street in front of 
 the Befifati, was in a great measure the reason of their not 
 being heard at first by Signor Arrigone. This was taken 
 as a fresh augury by Monaldeschi della Cervara.* Then 
 all of them went to Santa Maria, and flinging themselves 
 on their knees on the steps, vowed to deliver the city from 
 
 * Cervara is derived from Cerva, vi^hich means a deer. Probably the 
 family device corresponded with the name. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 251 
 
 the tyrant, as far as possible without injury to any one. 
 Then they went to the house of Arrigo (now belonging to 
 Petrucci) who hearing the noise, without waiting for help 
 from his people, who had not yet risen, rushed out with 
 a pike, and although he was warned if he did not retire 
 he would be killed, paying no heed to the warning, he 
 was immediately slain. The Befifati then hastened to the 
 principal piazza, where there was a body of guards, with 
 whom an encounter took place. Tomasso di Francesco 
 Mazzochi, the head of the guard, being killed. The rest 
 were put to flight and made prisoners ; which being done, 
 the Beffati immediately rang the great bell of the church 
 of Sant Andrea, upon which Paolpietro, together with 
 many others from the neighbouring territories, and fifty 
 bowmen, broke down the gates with the help' of those 
 already within the city, entering the city at dawn amidst 
 cries of Peace, peace ! the which being heard by the Mal- 
 corini, as they perceived their leader dead, they made no 
 further movement. Thus was Orvieto retaken by the 
 Beffati and consigned to the rule of Pope Nicholas the 
 fifth ; the news being sent quickly to Rome." 
 
 By far the most interesting object in Orvieto is the cathe- 
 dral, built in alternate courses of the dark-coloured basaltic 
 lava and yellowish limestone which is found in the neighbour- 
 hood. Tradition assigns its origin to a miracle which oc- 
 curred near the lake of Bolsena : the same that has been 
 represented by Raphael on the walls of the Vatican. A 
 German priest who had disbelieved in the Real Presence, was 
 convinced by the host in his hands dropping blood. The 
 elements and other relics were then brought to the pope. 
 Urban the fourth, at that time resident at Orvieto, who 
 met them on the way ; the cathedral being afterwards 
 commenced to enshrine them, towards the end of the 
 thirteenth century. Mr. Hemans, in his "Mediaeval Chris- 
 tianity and Sacred Art in Italy," gives some interesting 
 particulars relative to the building of this cathedral. He 
 says : " Pope Clement the sixth granted an indulgence to 
 all who should visit Orvieto for devotional purposes ; which 
 
252 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 spiritual favours were doubled in an indulgence from 
 Gregory the ninth, obtainable by all who should assist at 
 the works for this new cathedral. Then were seen citizens 
 of all classes co-operating, besides multitudes of pilgrims, 
 who, after attending religious services, would spend the 
 rest of the day in doing what they could to help the 
 masons, stone-cutters, or other artizans at the sacred 
 building. Persons of good condition carried burdens on 
 their shoulders ; and those who could not do rough work 
 brought drink or food to the labourers, enabling them to 
 refresh themselves without leaving the spot. It is one of 
 the proofs how utterly were Sabbatarian notions foreign 
 to the mediaeval mind, even while religious influences were 
 at the greatest height, that Sundays and other festivals 
 were marked by special activity (in the hours, namely, after 
 the principal rites were over) during the progress of these 
 labours. Companies of artists were sent to seek and to 
 work the most suitable marbles at Rome, Siena, and 
 Corneto ; and such prepared material used to be brought 
 to Orvieto by buffaloes, or (if from Rome) up the Tiber as 
 far as Orte." * 
 
 Amongst the artists deputed to embellish the cathedral 
 was Luca d' Egidio Ventura, or Luca Signorelli, as he is 
 generally called, born at Cortona in the year one thousand 
 four hundred and forty-one. He was the connecting link 
 between the Umbrian school of Piero della Francesca, and 
 the higher development of the Florentine manner under 
 Michael Angelo. Vasari says that he awoke the minds 
 of all those who came after him, and that Michael 
 Angelo was much indebted to him. With as much power 
 and greatness of conception as Michael Angelo, he had a 
 narrower field of expression. The artistic means at his 
 disposal were fewer, owing to his priority in time ; but he 
 had within him wells of tenderness and sweetness never 
 touched by the great Florentine, as witness the beatified 
 spirits in his Paradise, one of the frescoes on these walls, 
 
 * A History of Mediaeval Christianity and Sacred Art in Italy A.D. 900 
 — 1350, by C. I. Hemans. Williams and Norgate, 1869. 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODl. 253 
 
 and the Santa Cecilia at Citta di Castello. It is a pity 
 that the remoteness and diffusion of his works make a 
 comparative study of them difficult to most art students.* 
 His greatest, and, indeed, his representative, works are, 
 however, here. 
 
 These frescoes rank with the world's epics. There is 
 nothing in art more nobly conceived, more powerfully and 
 grandly expressed. They stand out with life-like fresh- 
 ness on the pages of Time, and their story is one which can 
 never lose its interest so long as men and women are born 
 to sin and sorrow, and with the desire to soar above them- 
 selves in the power of a diviner nature. They treat of the 
 great subjects — Good and Evil and their consequences. The 
 first is the Fall of Antichrist, which for subtilty of rendering 
 and manly vigour is unsurpassed in the history of art. 
 Antichrist, the great power of Evil, falls amongst a group 
 of persons to the left, striking some of them dead. The 
 picture embraces many episodes ; but, perhaps, the most 
 wonderful of all is the great group of the foreground, in the 
 midst of which Antichrist stands upon a pedestal or altar, 
 preaching to the people ; a horned fiend behind him, whis- 
 pering in his ear. At his feet are laid bags of money, gold 
 and silver vessels, with other worldly treasures. The type 
 of his countenance and the foldings of his drapery are based 
 upon the traditional form and manner in which our Lord is 
 commonly represented. But what a difference ! Instead 
 of the usual freely flowing wavy hair, this of Antichrist is 
 carefully parted down the middle, oiled and curled with the 
 utmost fastidiousness. The folds of his dress, too, and his 
 attitude are both disposed in the most studied manner. In 
 the face seem to be written in subtle and delicate characters 
 the long results of selfishness, evil lusts and heartlessness ; 
 
 * There is a picture by him (figured in Crowe and Cavalcaselle'swork) 
 in private keeping at Florence, discovered of late years, w^hich has been 
 called the "School of Pan," once offered, I believe, to our National 
 Gallery Commission at a price far from exorbitant. Hovv^ it is possible 
 that such a picture should have been resigned is beyond comprehension. 
 It is an epitome of all that is great and noble in art — sufficient in itself to 
 enrich a gallery and make a nation proud in its possession. 
 
254 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 a face one could not trust : full of the wisdom which comes 
 of sin and worldly prejudice, but all glozed over with an 
 almost dainty speciousness, the bad marks in it being half 
 overlaid without being entirely concealed. All this is visible 
 enough. Never did satire wield a sharper weapon, never 
 did it cut so deep or wear a more serious dress. Of the 
 group around him it would be long to tell. Here a young 
 man in courtly garb sets his arms akimbo, and listens with 
 a self-gratulatory satisfaction ; there a stalwart fellow, the 
 very embodiment of brute power, stands with legs apart, 
 turning his head to a neighbouring friar, evidently prepared 
 for hot work if it should be required. Here a woman is 
 receiving a bribe from the purse of a well-dressed citizen, 
 and there schoolmen and philosophers dispute on the 
 doctrines they hear. On the left a deed of martyrdom and 
 bloodshed is being perpetrated, near to which stand the 
 portrait figures of Luca Signorelli and Fra Angelico, both 
 robed in black, as spectators. No description can give 
 any idea of the vast scenic power and intensity of this noble 
 work. It speaks with a thousand tongues. 
 
 Another of these wonderful frescoes represents the Resur- 
 rection. Two angels standing upon the clouds, surrounded 
 by cherubs, blow their trumpets over the world. The souls 
 of men and women rise at the sound, some with their bodies, 
 as in life, others as skeletons. One of the most powerful of 
 these is that of a man who lifts himself out of the ground 
 by pressing one hand upon the surface of the soil, and 
 another upon the knee of his liberated leg. Another is being 
 drawn up out of the ground by his two hands by a com- 
 panion already risen ; others stand about in adoring grati- 
 tude, or embrace each other with raptures of overflowing joy. 
 
 A third of these paintings symbolizes the Torments of 
 the Condemned. It is something almost too frightfully 
 horrible to contemplate, so intensely realistic is it in its 
 representation. The avenging angels stand above, whilst 
 grisly fiends torment their miserable victims below. One 
 of the most astounding of these groups is that of a hideous 
 monster, who bears a woman on his back through the air, 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 255 
 
 and turns up his face into hers with a diabolical grin. But 
 perhaps the utmost power of the artist culminates in the 
 figure of a man at the left, who is being thrust head fore- 
 most into raging flames. As he gasps with head thrown 
 back, and an expression of anguish on his face that is 
 absolutely appalling, he presses his hands convulsively to his 
 eyes, to protect himself from even the sight of the horrors 
 which he is condemned to endure. 
 
 One more picture completes the series. It is the Reward 
 of the Just. Newly risen spirits garlanded with flowers 
 look up with a divine rapture, whilst angels place crowns 
 of glory upon their heads, or floating in the sky strew them 
 with showers of flowers. Through some of their faces the 
 very soul seems to glow out in wells of living emotion. 
 Angels above them play musical instruments. Life, joy, 
 and animation are visible everywhere. 
 
 Art can do no more than has been done in these pictures. 
 They embrace all the tides of humanity ; they sound the 
 full chord of its emotions ; they reach its deepest springs ; 
 they touch its loftiest ascensions and elevations. Time only 
 tells the old story over and over again : it will never be 
 interpreted in a nobler or more comprehensive language 
 than that in which it has found expression here. 
 
 I shall not detain the reader any longer over this mag- 
 nificent cathedral with its mosaic fat^ade and grotesque 
 carvings, nor over the many interesting and valuable works 
 of art it contains. Neither shall I ask him to go to the vast 
 well of St. Patrick, which marks the engineering skill of 
 San Gallo : nor even to explore any more of the strearq 
 which has brought us from the main object of our journey. 
 
 Along the whole course of the river Tiber, perhaps that 
 part of its territory is the least known and most rarely 
 traversed which lies between Orvieto and Todi^-a distance 
 of somewhat more than twenty miles following the course 
 of the stream ; and this was to me a somewhat anxious 
 part of the journey. In vain I inquired of the landlord of 
 the hote), the waiters, and at the cafle. Nobody knew if 
 there was a practicable road or not anywhere within sight 
 
256 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 of the stream. At last a peasant was found — and a rough- 
 looking fellow he was — who belonged to some part of the 
 intervening country. So he was summoned to a colloquy. 
 When I told him my wish to make the journey to Todi, 
 skirting the banks of the river, of course, the first thing he 
 suggested was that there was a good high-road on the other 
 side of the mountains, almost new, by which I might arrive 
 there with ease and comfort much sooner. Persisting in 
 my intention to follow the course of the river, he said that • 
 it was quite impossible, that it was a strada orribile, a 
 horrible road : in fact that there was no road at all, but rocks 
 and precipices, impenetrable woods, and dangerous streams 
 — difficulties which it would be quite impossible to over- 
 come. Did no one pass there t I asked. No one, no one, he 
 assured me ; unless it might be the peasants and charcoal 
 burners here and there. Did he think he could find his 
 way anywhere within sight of the river ? Well, perhaps he 
 might, but it was quite impossible to approach it nearer 
 than two or three miles. Finally I asked if he were willing 
 to undertake the journey and make the best of it ; that is 
 to say, to follow the banks of the river as nearly as might 
 be practicable. This he agreed to do, promising to bring a 
 couple of horses at daybreak the next morning, upon which 
 to perform the journey. My friends would willingly have 
 accompanied me during this stage also, but it was found 
 that no more than a couple of saddle-horses could be 
 obtained, owing to the harvest season ; so they undertook 
 to follow the high road in a carriage, and rejoin me at 
 Todi. 
 
 Accordingly, the next morning my guide appeared ; and 
 bidding farewell to my friends, after the usual adjustment 
 of incompetent trappings, we started on our journey. As 
 we passed through the town a sombre grey pervaded the 
 still streets and houses, now and then a resounding footfall, 
 besides those of our horses, waking a sleepy echo. After 
 descending the hill upon which the town stands, we forded 
 the Paglia a short distance down the stream, and were 
 presently threading our upwards way along the left bank 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 2^7 
 
 of the Tiber. At first we passed by rustic homesteads and 
 noisy mills, amongst fields of hemp and Indian corn ; but 
 soon the scenery became highly romantic, quite justi- 
 fying the account given of it by my guide. For long 
 distances no human voice was heard, no human face seen. 
 Awful shades seemed to brood from ledge and precipice, 
 whilst below them the river muttered and whispered in his 
 course, the shadows of tall poplars streaking the pebbly 
 banks, which were bleached to a ghastly whiteness with the 
 ^wrath of many a winter's torrent. After a while we passed 
 the walls of a desolate little village called Corbaro, once 
 the stronghold of a powerful mediaeval family, and still 
 retaining a warlike appearance. As it glared down from 
 its barren shelf of rock it looked as if it might have been 
 the residence of the genius of this weird territory. Grim 
 and stern one might have imagined the knight-errant of 
 old cautiously tracking his way in such a spot filled with 
 vague fears of enchantment and treachery, scarcely daring 
 to turn his head at the hoarse cawing of the crow or the 
 scared cry of the magpie. He would certainly have mut- 
 tered a paternoster and have grasped his lance more firmly 
 amidst these lonely shades and unfriendly steeps as the 
 river filled his ear with ominous murmurs and the poplars 
 whispered to each other as if untoward spirits had found 
 a place amongst their boughs and were plotting evil things 
 against him. For some time the river was the sole clue 
 to our course ; but presently we were obliged to diverge 
 from its banks where the ground was cut with deep ravines 
 by the torrents which in winter time pour from the hills. 
 Plunging into a wilderness of stunted trees and brushwood, 
 my guide confessed himself at fault, and there was nothing 
 for it but to follow the direction as nearly as possible 
 through the immense forests which here covered the valley 
 and stretched up the sides of the mountains. Fortunately, 
 after forcing our way through the brushwood without being 
 able to see more than a few yards before and around us, 
 we stumbled on a little patch of cultivated ground, where, 
 not far from a cottage, a man was occupied in ploughing 
 
258 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 with a couple of oxen. We entreated his services to put 
 us on some track which might lead us in the direction of 
 our route, when he immediately left his plough, and accom- 
 panying us a distance of two or three miles, gave directions 
 to my companion by which we might be enabled to follow 
 the right course. Soon the scene changed as if by the 
 touch of magic. The village of Civitella de' Pazzi was 
 seen to crown a distant summit. Soft and feathery foliage 
 covered the hill-sides. The severe mountain forms moved 
 into softer lines. A rich green mantled the rising heights- 
 upon which light and shadow lay mingled in masses of 
 tender repose. Culture had half withdrawn the natural 
 w^ldness of the landscape. Gorge beyond gorge the moun- 
 tains opened their recesses. Undulating plains of grass were 
 spotted with clumps of trees. The labourer sang at his toil. 
 The sheep-bell mixed its sound with the gentle roar of the 
 river. All was peace and intense loveliness. It seemed as 
 if nature, friendly to the labours of man, smiled contentment 
 on the scene in her happiest mood, weaving herself garlands 
 of leaves and flowers all day long. Thus following its course 
 by many a willowy bend and poplared shade the river led 
 us from valley to valley, until the banks becoming more 
 contracted, steeper, and still more gloomy, it began to 
 complain in angry tones at its closer imprisonment. Finally 
 abysmal gorges dropped sheer down through unmeasured 
 depths to its dark bed, wherefrom the moon might be seen 
 at noon between black plumes of ancestral pines, and then 
 it took a wide sweep to the right, and plunged between 
 two narrow walls where no road lay for mortal foot to 
 follow it. 
 
 Leaving its companionship for the moment we began to 
 ascend the sides of the valley, through vast fragments of 
 broken rock scattered about as if in mockery of order and 
 law — up, up, until the sky seemed nearer and the sharp 
 mountain breeze blew keenly on our foreheads, drawing the 
 dust into little eddies with a feeble wail. Then what a 
 panorama lay beneath ! The long winding valley whose 
 extent we had traversed lay below us like a map. Rocks, 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TODL 259 
 
 groves, farms, fields, villages, all giving variety to its area 
 — a miniature world through which the serpentine river 
 went from side to side, distributing greenness and fertility 
 wherever its course lay. 
 
 After riding some little distance across the mountain table- 
 land we struck once more into a high road, and I was as- 
 tonished to find my friends H. and B. comfortably seated 
 at the door of a little osteria, where they had just finished 
 such a meal as the place afforded. Whatever it had been, 
 there was no great abundance, for my rustic companion 
 and I had to be contented with some dark bread and hard 
 cheese with a fogtietta of indifferent wine. It seemed on 
 this spot our roads met, and though my friends had never seen 
 the Tiber for the mountains that lay between, they described 
 the scenery they had passed through as of a very magni- 
 ficent and romantic order. Presently we remounted our 
 horses, and striking off the road to the right I endeavoured 
 to regain the river, whilst my companions pursued their 
 journey by the high road. The descent towards the river- 
 valley beneath Todi was extremely picturesque. The sun 
 had already passed the hour of noon. A soft blue haze 
 overspread the landscape, which was seen in vignette-like 
 glimpses through the branches of motionless trees. Nume- 
 rous reapers were passing from farm to farm ; the whole 
 valley vocal with their strange songs. Crossing the river by 
 a handsome bridge we commenced the ascent to Todi, 
 which was seen to lift its low-spired campanile into the 
 air, commanding the whole country round. The ascent to 
 the town from the bottom occupies more than an hour, 
 owing to the windings of the road up the steep sides of the 
 elevation upon which it stands. Circling the old town the 
 first object that meets the eye is a singular church of 
 clustered domes, the masterpiece of Bramante. Wearily 
 we rode along the lengthy principal street of the town 
 without being able to find the inn we sought, which, it 
 seemed, had either changed its name or vanished altogether. 
 At last, as no inquiries availed, we were on the point of 
 seeking another, when H. and B. looking from a window 
 
26o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Cha^. IX. 
 
 called to us to dismount, as they had found what was said 
 to be the best locanda of the town. And a cheery little 
 place enough it was, with all the cleanliness and comfort 
 that one ever expects to find in an Italian inn remote from 
 the path of ordinary travellers. We were waited upon by 
 two bright-eyed damsels with the sharpness and politeness 
 which naturally belongs to the Italian character. Dinner 
 over, one of them produced from her pocket a handful of 
 cigars and offered me one, at the same time proceeding to 
 light and smoke one herself 
 
 Todi was the ancient Roman Tuder. It is mentioned by 
 Silius Italicus as being loftily situated, and famous for its 
 temple of Mars.* It is also spoken of by Strabo and 
 other classical writers. 
 
 It is surmounted by an old castle and partly surrounded 
 by mediaeval walls, with square towers at intervals. But 
 more interesting than these are the extensive remains 
 of some antique walls of Etruscan origin to be found 
 in several parts of the town. These are composed of 
 variously sized blocks of tufa laid together in unequal 
 courses, without cement, offering a fine sample of the 
 constructive workmanship of the earliest known inhabitants 
 of Central Italy. There are also some very well preserved 
 remains of the facade of a Roman temple, probably be- 
 longing to the time of the early empire. 
 
 The modern town, or city, as it is still called, contains 
 between four and five thousand inhabitants. It consists 
 of long straggling streets and a square, or piazza, with 
 a town hall and cathedral of sturdy mediaeval archi- 
 tecture. There are numberless picturesque nooks, lanes, 
 and corners to be found within it, and sometimes in- 
 dications of architectural taste and skill for which we 
 may look in vain amongst modern workmanship. In 
 common with other small Italian towns, there is a want 
 of activity and energy within its precincts which is ab- 
 solutely depressing. No shadow of ambition seems to 
 disturb its quiet life. Remote from the great centres of 
 * Punic, iv. 2 2 2. 
 
Chap. IX. 
 
 FROM SCO R A NO TO TOD I. 
 
 261 
 
 business, day by day passes without bringing any change 
 to the still monotony of existence within its walls — scarcely 
 reached even by a rumour of the large movements and 
 energetic actions which stir and animate the races of men 
 beneath. 
 
 It would be difficult to say in what manner the greater 
 portion of the inhabitants of this town are enabled to eke 
 out a livelihood where there seems to be so little demand 
 for labour, and, apparently, no commercial relationships 
 beyond its limits. Yet here, from year to year, men and 
 
 women live and die, some at a good old age, as appearances 
 testify. Probably it maintains itself in a great measure on 
 the produce of the surrounding country. Yet, in spite of 
 its dullness and poverty, it is not without its pretensions to 
 a certain form of social display. Every evening, in the fine 
 weather, the principal inhabitants congregate on the terrace 
 walks or promenade, laid out to command the whole 
 
 T 
 
262 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX 
 
 river-valley, from which the sun is seen to set like a fire, 
 and the last glow of the. fading day to vanish beyond the 
 summits of the deep brown mountains, interweaving the 
 sky with aerial webs of softly blended colour, and drawing 
 the curtain of rest over still hamlet and tranquil homestead 
 nestling peacefully beneath. 
 
 This spot was especially delightful to me at the evening 
 hour during my stay there. It was the time of harvest ; 
 the spirit of early summer lay upon the surrounding 
 country, not yet parched with the burning suns of the later 
 season. An extensive valley was displayed far beneath, 
 bounded by lofty mountains spreading their sombre slopes 
 beyond the river, varied by vast groves, patches of cul- 
 tivated land, and barren surface, all taking those subtle and 
 delicate tints which a southern climate alone can impart. 
 From a chasm of the hills the river emerged, and after 
 wandering hither and thither through the valley, vanished 
 as suddenly in a rift at the other end of it. Then the 
 weird and melancholy songs of the reapers were wafted 
 upwards from near and far harvest-fields, rising and falling 
 in the stillness with their strange wild cadences, floating 
 from bank to bank and bluff to bluff like the tender wailings 
 of some bereaved sylvan spirit ; and ere their last echoes 
 had died on the glimmering twilight — for they seemed to 
 linger in the air as if loth to die — the strain was taken up 
 at some remote corner of the valley miles away, and pro- 
 longed again and again, throwing a vague spell over the 
 scene, as the stars lit their silvery lamps one by one, and 
 the bats and owls began to flicker through the closing 
 shades of balm-breathing night. 
 
 The mediaeval history of this town is of the usual tur- 
 bulent character. A quaint incident is given by Graziani 
 in his diary as having occurred here in the year one 
 thousand three hundred and fourteen. ** In the month of 
 August," he says, "this year, the commune of Perugia 
 made peace with the commune of Todi in this manner, 
 that is, the syndic of those within and the syndic of those 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TOOL 263 
 
 without kissed each other on the mouth, which peace was 
 made at the foot of the campanile of San Lorenzo with 
 a certain compact which appears written in our council 
 chamber. When peace was made all the Guelphs from 
 without entered the city. The contract was made by Sir 
 Filippo de Gilio of Porta Santa Susanna." It is a pity so 
 simple and satisfactory a mode of ending public difficulties 
 has grown out of fashion in modern times. 
 
 Campano in his life of Fortebraccio narrates a stirring 
 episode in the history of the city, which I shall here 
 transcribe for the graphic picture which it gives of mediaeval 
 warfare and the military spirit of the time. It belongs 
 to the year one thousand four hundred and fourteen. 
 
 "Whilst they were making great preparations for war, 
 Braccio, having paid his soldiers a year in advance, retired 
 into the territory of Todi before the king [Ladislaus of 
 Naples] should arrive, who, it was reported, was approach- 
 ing with twenty thousand cavalry and eight thousand 
 infantry with as great provisions for war to assault the 
 pope's forces as had formerly served to defeat them in 
 Tuscany. The people of Todi, who were on the side of 
 the pope, although they felt themselves strong by nature of 
 their position, yet being divided into parties and factions, 
 placed the whole army of Braccio within the city, waiting 
 the brunt of the king's coming, imagining (as, indeed, it 
 happened) that he would use his utmost power to make 
 himself master of the city, seeing that it stood between 
 Rome and Perugia. The king, accordingly, oh his arrival 
 immediately surrounded the city to besiege it, with the 
 intention of subjugating it by famine if he should not be 
 able to take it by force. Braccio, although he might have 
 been able from the advantage of his more elevated position 
 to have attacked the enemy in the plain below, neverthe- 
 less, on account of the small number of soldiers under his 
 command, remained at first for some time within the walls. 
 Afterwards issuing from the city almost every day he 
 molested the enemy in such a manner that it did not appear 
 
 T 2 
 
264 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 so much that he w^s besieged as that he fought in open 
 
 combat, the soldiers of Braccio being so emboldened by 
 
 success as several times to have approached the pavilion of 
 
 the king, so that the enemy were obliged to place sentinels 
 
 close to the city, fortifying themselves with bastions. 
 
 Trusting in their numbers, many overran the surrounding 
 
 territory, burning the houses, others reduced to ruin the 
 
 edifices in the vicinity of the city, others cut down the 
 
 olives and vines, which being done under the eyes of the 
 
 owners, each was compelled to be a witness of the injury 
 
 he suffered. When the besieged thus saw their property 
 
 destroyed on every hand, they were greatly moved thereat, 
 
 and finally determined to submit themselves to the king, 
 
 sending the heads of the city to capitulate and conclude 
 
 peace ; the ambassadors earnestly demanding that Braccio 
 
 might be permitted to leave the country voluntarily with 
 
 all his army and to go whither he would. The king, 
 
 although many would have persuaded him to the contrary, 
 
 yet at the strong instance of the ambassadors, finally 
 
 consented. Five hundred infantry were then sent into the 
 
 city, and Braccio, having the opportunity to leave it, went 
 
 with his army to Fratticiuola. No sooner, however, had he 
 
 gone away than the soldiers placed by the king within the 
 
 city gave themselves to unbridled robbery, and, under cover 
 
 of the night, licentiously to sack the houses of the poor 
 
 citizens, commencing, as is customary with soldiers, forcibly 
 
 to put everything to ruin. The inhabitants of Todi, soon 
 
 repenting of the step which they had taken, once more 
 
 gave themselves to the pope, and recalling Braccio to the 
 
 defence of the city, threw down the royal standard, raised 
 
 that of the Church, and were again besieged by Ladislaus. 
 
 On the same day that this change was made in Todi 
 
 certain companies sent by the king took several of Braccio's 
 
 cavalry together with two hundred horses which had been 
 
 put to pasture. The night following, Braccio commanded 
 
 his soldiers that they should take arms, and issuing from 
 
 the city at the first watch of the night, assaulted the camp 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCO R A NO TO TODL 265 
 
 of the king with such violence that, having thrown down 
 their defences and cut the sentinels to pieces, they thence 
 passed to the trenches of the enemy, who being awakened 
 from sleep, whilst they were running to seize their arms, 
 were bound and made prisoners. There were taken and 
 led away to Todi four noble knights who had charge of 
 the royal standards, as they were hurrying to the pavilion 
 of the king. As soon as Braccio perceived that the enemy 
 had had time to arm themselves and that they were coming 
 out to fight, not wishing to be taken prisoner in the midst 
 of a more powerful opponent, thought it prudent to sound a 
 retreat. Amongst all the gallant deeds done in the war 
 there were none more honourable than this. The king in 
 person having followed them to the gates of the city, heard 
 the voices ' of the standard-bearers calling for help ; but 
 although he thought himself close upon them, they were 
 dragged up the heights with sucH celerity that he suddenly 
 found himself a long way from them. As soon as they were 
 within the town the soldiers commenced in the dark to despoil 
 them ; but when a light was brought and they saw the 
 distinguished aspect of their prisoners they forbore. Their 
 vests were richly embroidered, their spurs of gold, their 
 corselets and helmets gilded all over; neither were their 
 horses less elaborately adorned : their trappings, bridles, 
 and saddles being all furnished with gold. When they 
 were brought before Braccio he entertained them with 
 much kindness ; and early on the day following he sent 
 them back to the king, although by the rules of war he 
 might have made them pay for their liberation. There 
 were taken seventy cavalry from the enemy that night. It 
 is said that the king after having asked the standard- 
 bearers many particulars concerning Braccio, bestowed 
 great praises on his humanity and high-mindedness, sending 
 a trumpeter to thank him in his name. The next day in 
 a slight skirmish a soldier of Braccio, much loved and 
 esteemed by him, was taken prisoner. The king gave him 
 a purple vest, and then set him at liberty, requesting him 
 
266 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 to tell Braccio, that he much desired to speak with him. 
 Between the city and the king's camp beyond the confines 
 and the trench were some strong beams well secured, where 
 the soldiers of both sides frequently met in combat, these 
 to force and those to defend the obstacle ; here the soldier 
 addressing Braccio, told him what the king had said, at the 
 same time pointing out the king, who was fighting beyond 
 the barrier. * Go to him,' replied Braccio, ' and tell him if 
 he wishes to see me I am here.' The king, however, at the 
 instant approaching the barrier, Braccio immediately raised 
 his helmet, and with uncovered head, throwing down his 
 sword, dismounted his horse, and resting upon one knee 
 did him reverence as is customary before royalty, upon 
 which both retired to a long parley — the soldiers on both 
 sides continuing to fight with only the line of defence and 
 the trench between them. The king offered Braccio three 
 hundred thousand ducats, if he would combine with him, 
 together with the command of all his army, and a city in 
 gift, whichever he might choose in his kingdom, except 
 Naples, adding that nothing should be denied to him if he 
 would only join him : promising all this on his faith and 
 royal crown. Braccio, after thanking the king for his 
 graciousness in granting him an interview, who was but a 
 private person and of no distinction, told him that he had 
 always studied to maintain his faith pure and entire towards 
 those whom he served, and that as he was now fighting for 
 the pope, he should remain faithful to him, although it 
 might cost him his life, and that he should not abandon 
 him either for money, love, fear, or any manner of danger, 
 because he held nothing in the world so valuable as fidelity ; 
 but that if he could in any particular interest have served 
 his highness he would willingly have done so, if it were not 
 prejudicial to the dignity of the pope ; adding, that if he 
 had been in the service of the king at that time as he was 
 in that of the pope, he would have served him with the 
 same faithfulness. Upon these words the king offered him 
 many compliments, and having commended his principles 
 
Chap. IX. FROM SCORANO TO TOD I. 267 
 
 departed ; the skirmishing being renewed with much greater 
 vehemence than before : each party exciting the soldiers to 
 a greater ardour. But with all he could do the king was 
 never able to pass the line of defence which was continually 
 surrounded by the people of Todi, who with their arrows 
 kept their enemies at a distance. After having thus con- 
 sumed twenty-five days in the siege, the king decamped ; 
 and shortly afterwards, making peace with the Florentines 
 and taking and imprisoning Paolo Orsini, returned first to 
 Rome and then to his kingdom, where he died." 
 
 Here was born in the thirteenth century Jacopo de' 
 Benedetti, called Fra Jacopone, the author of the Stabat 
 Mater, and many hymns and verses. He was brought up as 
 an advocate or lawyer. He married a wife of wealthy parent- 
 age who was both beautiful and virtuous. One day during 
 the celebration of a festival, the ceiling gave way and 
 Benedetti's wife suffered a mortal injury. On unloosing her 
 dress he found that she wore a coarse haircloth next 
 her skin. This and his loss so affected Benedetti that 
 he either became really deranged in his mind, or else 
 affected to be so as an act of religious penance. He 
 attached himself as a lay brother to a Franciscan convent, 
 performing the most menial services, and was made an 
 object of ridicule by the whole town, receiving the nickname 
 of Jacopone. Many fantastic circumstances are narrated 
 of him. Once he covered himself with some resinous 
 matter, and rolling himself in feathers presented himself 
 amongst a company of merry makers, to their disgust and 
 confusion. Another time being requested to take home 
 some provisions for a feast by a gentleman of the place, 
 he bore them to the family burial place — "the home of all. 
 living." Being afterwards at Palestrina, he wrote some 
 verses against the pope, Boniface the eighth, who had him 
 put into prison, where he languished for a long time. It is 
 said that the pope one day passing by his prison asked him 
 tauntingly when he intended to come out : " When you 
 come in," was the reply ; which happened accordingly ; for 
 
268 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. IX. 
 
 shortly afterwards when the Colon na, with whom the pope 
 was at strife, gained the upper hand, they put the pope 
 into prison and liberated Jacopone. Such astuteness as 
 Jacopone often showed both in his conduct and writings 
 scarcely appears like madness. He died in thirteen hun- 
 dred and six, and was buried in his native town. 
 
 The length of the Tiber from Todi to Perugia, a distance 
 of about twenty-seven miles, offers as few points of 
 interest and as little variety of scenery as are to be found 
 in any similar length of its whole course. As the high 
 road follows the river quite closely almost the whole of the 
 distance we took the diligence of the country at an early 
 hour of the morning to accomplish this portion of our 
 journey. Everything wore a beautiful pastoral aspect. 
 The river here wanders through a vast undulating plain of 
 the most fertile territory, richly cultivated, covered with 
 orchards, vineyards, and pleasant pastures. As we passed 
 along the road, the horses lazily jingling their bells, we saw 
 the swineherd tending his charge beneath the trees, here 
 and there a flock of sheep grazing or perhaps a few cows 
 watched by a boy or a girl with her white linen head-dress 
 shining in the sun. Now and then a white house was seen 
 on the upland, or perhaps a little village lifting its tall 
 campanile from some more elevated height. The sides of 
 the river bristled with lank poplars, vast groves of which 
 stretch up the spreading slopes for miles. Grey willows 
 fringed the shores, whilst the stream — a narrowing streak 
 of azure on white beds of pebbles, sand, or baked mud — 
 ran into cool vistas of refreshing shade, from time to time 
 fed with little trickling rills. Hot as it was the drive was 
 cheerful and pleasant. The driver, near whom I sat, enter- 
 tained me almost the whole of the way with his views on 
 the regeneration of Italy. Amongst other things he in- 
 formed me that there was a popular superstition that if the 
 pope should survive his twenty-fifth anniversary his dele- 
 gated power would revert to St. Peter himself and be no 
 longer availing in the hands of the pontiff. " Do you also 
 
Chap. IX. 
 
 FROM SCO R A NO TO TOD I. 
 
 269 
 
 believe it ?" I asked. " No," he replied, " I am not speaking 
 of myself, but of the lower classes of uneducated people." 
 Presently he told me that an excellent dinner had been 
 ordered some days before to be ready at Diruta for the 
 gentlemen inside upon the arrival of the diligence, and as 
 there would probably be enough for all, he would ask them 
 to let us join them. Accordingly, on our arrival at a little 
 road-side inn near that town, we were regaled on an 
 abundance of maccaroni, together with boiled, fried and 
 roast, with some very excellent wine ; not unw^elcome 
 additions to the pleasure of a day's travelling, seasoned, as 
 it was, with the friendly and well-bred courtesy of our 
 travelling companions. 
 
 Diruta was a town of some mediaeval importance, being 
 not infrequently concerned in the wars of Perugia and Todi. 
 It is in a good commanding position. From this place a 
 hot length of dusty road led us by many a pretty white 
 villa up to Perugia. 
 
 OKVIETU 
 
270 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PERUGIA, AS SIS I, AND THE RIVER CLITUMNUS. 
 
 THERE is no more agreeable town in Central Italy for 
 a summer residence than Perugia. On a spur of the 
 Apennines commanding the prospect of the greater part 
 of the valley of Foligno, which extends to a distance of 
 thirty or forty miles from its foot, it enjoys a salubrious 
 atmosphere, with a cheerful and beautiful position.* It is 
 quiet, intensely quiet to an Anglo-Saxon fresh from the 
 cities of England or America ; but to the lover of nature 
 and the artist there is abundant material for the eye and 
 the mind, whilst the student of mediaeval life may feast 
 himself in the dusty records of bygone centuries written 
 on almost every house-front and every public building. 
 We were happy on our arrival to find ourselves in the midst 
 of a little colony of English and American friends from 
 Rome, who had come here to spend the summer. I do 
 not know of any place where the friendly and social re- 
 lationships are so satisfactory as in Italy. Sojourners being 
 led thither for the most part by a community of pursuit, 
 the free-and-easy, half bohemian artist life allows of per- 
 fectly unconstrained intercourse. Everyone who goes to 
 make a visit to Italy beyond the run of the mere tourist, is 
 in a manner compelled to adopt some speciality, if he have 
 not one already, either in art or antiquity ; so that each 
 
 * Perugia 
 Che com' e in monte ha il sito allegro e bello. — 
 
 Fazio degli Uberti. 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 271 
 
 is more or less interested in the pursuit of the other, and 
 meetings are almost always welcome and agreeable. Ours 
 were no exception to this rule. Genial days and evenings 
 greeted us. In fact, every day was a holiday from which 
 a few hours were borrowed to forward a picture or to 
 acquire material for a new one, or to work out a sketch to 
 suggest the winter work of the sculptor. For myself the 
 mornings of each day were almost always spent in the 
 retirement of the town library, disinterring many a dusty 
 tome, ancient chronicle, or local history, in order to obtain 
 glimpses of mediaeval life and manners in the city ; some 
 extracts from which I purpose presently to lay before the 
 reader. 
 
 Perugia is perhaps one of the oldest of Italian cities as it 
 was once one of the most powerful of Etruria. In the fourth 
 century before Christ it was able to withstand the Romans 
 for a long time, though ultimately compelled to succumb 
 to Fabius. It would not appear, however, that it was 
 finally reduced until forty years before the Christian era, 
 under the emperor Augustus, when it suffered the horrors 
 of siege and famine, the city being afterwards sacked, three 
 hundred of its chief citizens being condemned to decapita- 
 tion. On this occasion a certain Caius Cestius Macedonius, 
 preferring that his house should be burnt rather than 
 delivered to the pillage of the enemy, set fire to it, where- 
 upon the flames spread throughout the whole city, which 
 was thus burnt to the ground. It was afterwards rebuilt 
 by Augustus and colonized by the Romans. In the sixth 
 century it fell into the hands of Totila, king of the Goths, 
 after a seven years' obstinate resistance, who devastated it 
 with fire and sword, beheading its bishop. Its mediaeval 
 history was a very troubled one, and as it includes some 
 of the most stirring events and characteristic scenes of that 
 hostile period it may be interesting to dwell on it a little 
 more at length. But instead of giving a continuous his- 
 torical account of the city, I shall present a few pictures 
 of its state and condition in the Middle Ages. 
 
272 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 Almost every town in Italy, little or great, has at some 
 time or other had its local chronicler, who has written a 
 diary or history, in a more or less fragmentary form, of the 
 chief political and social events occurring during his life- 
 time. The manner in which these are given is often 
 infinitely racy and amusing. Many of them were subse- 
 quently printed, some have found later editors, whilst 
 doubtless many still remain in the dust of centuries, await- 
 ing the discoverer to bring them to the light. 
 
 Campano, the biographer of Fortebraccio, says that the 
 Perugians were the most bellicose of all nations, and that 
 even in the same house party spirit ran so high that sons 
 were frequently opposed to their fathers, so that neither 
 dared trust his life into the hands of the other. Treachery 
 and suspicion prevailed ; the domestic relationships even 
 losing faith and confidence. This state of things is con- 
 firmed by the historians, although, indeed, they do not 
 forget to tell us that there were exceptions to the rule — quiet, 
 peaceable citizens who regarded every movement of the 
 military spirit within the city or out of it as the worst of 
 misfortunes, and who would willingly have pursued their way 
 in tranquillity if they had been permitted to do so. 
 
 To furnish an idea of the state of feeling in the city, and 
 the circumstances under which it was maintained, I shall 
 here give a picture of its condition in the year one thousand 
 four hundred and eighty-eight from the history of Pellini. 
 
 At that time Perugia was divided into factions by two 
 powerful and wealthy families, the Baglioni and the Oddi, 
 the growing jealousy between whom was fostered and finally 
 brought to issue by the former having some offices and 
 emoluments withdrawn from them by the pope, as was 
 supposed, at the instigation and by the influence of the 
 other. This was quite enough to arouse the smouldering 
 fires of rivalry that lay between them. Immediately the 
 whole city and territory were disorganised. But we will 
 leave the historian to narrate the episode in his own 
 manner. 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSISl, ETC. 273 
 
 " In those days," he says, " Guido BagHoni returned from 
 Spello, and seeing the differences which had arisen and the 
 danger of a catastrophe, reports of which were noised about 
 the city, summoned a good number of soldiers into Perugia 
 from his territories, strengthening himself with his adherents, 
 all the country being in arms, and the gentlemen's houses 
 full of friends and armed followers, and the Oddi in great 
 suspicion, because it was already reported that the Baglioni 
 wished to kill the sons of Leone degli Oddi. It happened 
 on the twenty-fifth of October, Giulio Cesare degli Staffa 
 being the head of the Signori, at one hour of the night, 
 whilst the minds of every one were in suspense, a little 
 disturbance took place in the piazza, and cries were raised 
 of Oddi, Oddi ! and Baglioni, Baglioni ! yet, although much 
 people ran thither, there was nothing more done that 
 evening ; but they stood in arms all night, each attentive 
 to his own safe?ty. The following day, which was Sunday, 
 the Marchese del Monte, who had married the daughter 
 of Simone degli Oddi, went thither ; and with him went 
 Pompeo di Leone, Nicolo di Sforza and Mariotto, with 
 many other friends in company, although the whole country 
 was in an uproar, each party seeking to bring his friends 
 from without for the sake of his own security. On the 
 Monday they remained in arms in the same manner, the 
 shops not being opened, each guarding himself with vigi- 
 lance as knowing that the danger was great. The Baglioni, 
 for their better security, put a good number of the soldiers 
 from Spello in the cathedral, where they fortified themselves 
 by barricading the doors, only leaving aperture sufficient 
 for the discharge of the artillery they had placed therein, 
 which, although not numerous nor of great size, was by 
 no means inefficacious, since they were able to command 
 the house of the Staffa from one door and from another 
 towards the Via Nuova, to bear upon the Armanni, the 
 Ranieri, the Arcipreti and the Sperelli ; and, in order that 
 no one might come into the piazza without opposition, they 
 had placed some at the principal entrance towards the 
 
274 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 piazza, and on the roof of the church, opposite the tower 
 of the Armanni, which was also provisioned and well fur- 
 nished with arms and all necessaries ; these also com- 
 manded the piazza and the palace of the podesta. The 
 Cor^neschi, on their part, placed many pieces of artillery 
 and cross-bows {balestre) which commanded the road that 
 leads to Sansanne ; so that it was impossible for any one 
 to enter the piazza that way without danger ; and in order 
 that the Oddi might be altogether debarred from entering 
 the piazza, the Baglioni also had barricaded the way and 
 guarded it with soldiers in the neighbourhood of the Cupa 
 under the houses of the Crispolti, and in other places. They 
 had also taken the seat of the notaries into the piazza and 
 placed weapons and soldiers there. The Oddi, on the 
 other side, seeing themselves almost besieged and unable 
 to go to the piazza without great danger, set themselves 
 to strengthen their position, with the determination to 
 provoke the Baglioni to the contest, or, if any further 
 tumult should arise, to defend themselves ; they also being 
 supported by many friends and adherents ; amongst others 
 by the Count Giacomo, son of Count Guido of Sterpeto, 
 with two hundred infantry, who had fought much and was 
 much praised for his daring. They had closed the road 
 to the Verzaro in various places, at the Ceppo della Catena 
 and in other places ; so that all that day and the next, they 
 did nothing else but prepare for their defence, although 
 many neutral gentlemen and the magistrates did every- 
 thing they could to make peace ; to whom the Oddi made 
 it appear that they did not know of what the Baglioni 
 complained, nor what they would have ; and as to the 
 difference between them and the Corgneschi in the affair 
 of Passignano, they professed that it might be easily accom- 
 modated. The intention of the Ranieri and Agamemnone 
 della Penna to assist the Oddi being discovered, they also 
 provided themselves with many men, and set pieces of 
 artillery in the house of Master Filippo Capra on the hill 
 of Porta Sole, in order to be higher than the others, so that 
 
Chap. X. . PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 275 
 
 they could shoot right into the door of the cathedral which 
 faces the Via Nuova. They then fortified themselves in 
 the houses, particularly Agamemnone, who strengthened 
 his position with beams and whatever else came to hand 
 for the safety of himself and what belonged to him, pro- 
 viding all that was judged useful or necessary for the 
 occasion. On Tuesday, which was the day of St. Simon 
 and St. Jude, the twenty-eighth of October, things remaining 
 in this state of suspicion and fear, it happened that two 
 young men after dining, having come to an encounter at 
 the foot of the piazza on account of some personal quarrel, 
 attacking each other with their swords, all the people in 
 the piazza ran thither. It was natural that the Baglioni, 
 being the nearest to the disturbance, should arrive there 
 the first, ready to seize the occasion. As soon as their 
 adherents had arrived in the piazza they began to shout 
 the name of their party and to enter into contest with 
 some followers of the Oddi. The Corgneschi also, hearing 
 the tumult, rushed incontinently out of the house of Master 
 Pietro Filippo, and without going further, placed them- 
 selves at the head of the street which goes to the Porta 
 Sansanne, as well because the Oddi, who were already on 
 their way to the skirmish, should not enter the piazza, as 
 because those of their friends who were there should not 
 be able to rejoin the others. A sharp and perilous en- 
 counter took place between the Oddi and Corgneschi under 
 the palace of the Signori ; but more by wounding each 
 other from a distance with bolts and pikes and with small 
 pieces of artillery which they had fixed in secure places, 
 than with the sword and other short arms hand to hand. 
 The Oddi, who were in much greater numbers, would have 
 easily taken the piazza if the Baglioni had not been prompt 
 in their help to the Corgneschi, who thus reinforced prevented 
 the Oddi from entering it. The fight lasted several hours 
 in the narrow streets ; but when the Oddi attempted to 
 pass by these ways — as the Baglioni attempted to do by 
 others — to the great disadvantage of the enemies at Porta 
 
276 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 . — . 1 
 
 Sansanne, and thus to enter the piazza in other directions, 
 there were engagements in various parts. There was 
 fighting at the same time beneath the palace of the Signori 
 in the principal piazza, in the piazza of the Aratri, under 
 the bridge that goes to the Via Vecchia and the Conca, where 
 the family of the Petrini had their houses (some of which 
 are still there) at the Ceppo del la Catena, and not far from 
 thence, at the house of the Corgneschi at San Gregorio 
 where barricades had been raised and strong defences 
 made ; and in all places they continued fighting valiantly 
 until the evening with much damage of wounds and death 
 on both sides. But besides attacking and using every effort 
 to occupy and defend the barriers, the Baglioni, who had 
 the advantage of the assistance of the people from without, 
 who had been able to damage the enemy by taking them 
 with all ardour, began to assault many houses wherein 
 they saw the retainers and defenders of the Oddi. To 
 some they set fire, so that presently they saw all that were 
 within them together with the furniture burn and consume 
 away. On that day, however, the house of the heirs of 
 Paolo di Tancio, not far from the church of Maesta della 
 Volta, was the only one entirely burnt down. It had 
 been desired before the fighting commenced that in order 
 to prevent strife or subdue it, that Guido, as the oldest and 
 of the most authority in that family, should stand continu- 
 ously with a stick in his hand and unarmed at the top of 
 the street of the Porta Susanne, which he accordingly did, 
 calling to his own people that they should withdraw them- 
 selves from the combat ; for which reason there was much 
 less harm done that day than there might have been. For 
 this end also there ran thither Leandra, the wife of Sforza 
 degli Oddi and the daughter of Braccio Baglione, and 
 Isabetta, daughter of Guido Baglione, who with all their 
 authority and entreaties, united with the intercessions of 
 many reverend fathers of the Observance of St. Francis, 
 who went in procession bearing the crucifix before them, 
 crying ' Peace, peace ! ' interposing themselves with great 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASS/SI, ETC. 277 
 
 humility, were not able to effect so much as that the fight 
 in all the above-mentioned places should not last until the 
 evening." 
 
 It is easy to imagine all this ; the eager and passionate 
 countenances of the belligerents ; the women with dis- 
 hevelled hair and frightened faces anxious to save husband, 
 father, or brother ; the monks and priests rushing hither and 
 thither with gesticulations and entreaties — all are placed 
 graphically before us. Finally the differences became 
 adjusted for the time being : but fresh disturbances after- 
 wards broke out ; houses were burnt and sacked ; the Oddi 
 being obliged to flee the city. They established themselves 
 at Castiglione on Lake Thrasimene ; but were thence dis- 
 lodged and scattered throughout various parts of Italy. 
 
 To these factions and disturbances there was no end. 
 Continually adventurous persons of arms, grown into power 
 by whatever means, struggled with each other for rule ; 
 everywhere the people suffered, and in endeavouring to free 
 themselves from one yoke found themselves subjugated by 
 another. Rival families sought for rule and dominion for 
 the mere purpose of selfish aggrandisement and personal 
 advantage. One of the most prominent of these personages 
 was Biordo Michelotti. Nurtured amidst feudal ambitions, 
 he early took up arms as a profession. After making him- 
 self master of Orvieto, towards the end of the fourteenth 
 century he established himself at Diruta, and then began a 
 warfare against Perugia ; so that more to get rid of a power- 
 ful enemy than for any friendliness the Perugians bore to 
 him, he was finally admitted to the mastership of their city. 
 It will be enough here to furnish two episodes from their 
 local history at this time. One of his marriage and the 
 other of his death, the former told by an old chronicler, as 
 follows : — 
 
 " In the month of November, of the year one thousand 
 three hundred and ninety-seven, Biordo ordered a great 
 festival and triumph to be prepared in secret ; though he 
 did not let the puipos'i of it be known. First of all it was 
 
 U 
 
278 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 arranged that every family of the country and then every 
 community, village and stronghold should bring a present. 
 These presents were of straw, corn, wood, grain, wine, fowls, 
 calves, sheep, eggs, and cheese ; being made spontaneously, 
 and not by command, from the wish which the people had 
 to show their attachment to Biordo. Biordo afterwards had 
 it published throughout the country, that every person who 
 was not a rebel or had not been condemned by the commune 
 of Perugia might come with safety to the said feast. He 
 also invited all the gentry of the neighbourhood, ordering a 
 high festival of eight days to be proclaimed. There were 
 invited Master Chiavello da Fabriano, together with his 
 wife and all his family, the son of the Count Antonio da 
 Urbino, and many other gentlemen. Moreover, he sum- 
 moned a great number of the people of his territory for a 
 body guard. The abbot of Santa Maria di Val di Ponte 
 made him a magnificent present, so did the abbot of San 
 Pietro and the son of Simon Guidalotti. Besides, all the 
 districts around sent him ambassadors with very noble 
 presents. Finally, Venice and Florence sent twelve men at 
 arms for the tournament. . . . 
 
 " Madonna the Countess, daughter of Count Bertoldo of 
 the house of Ursina was taken by Biordo to San Giovanni 
 the day before. Sir Filippo di Matteuccio went for her and 
 conducted her to Castel della Pieve, and on the thirteenth, 
 came to Perugia. She entered by the Due Porte wearing a 
 vestment of gold drawn over her head with many jewels ; 
 before her were carried three pairs of coffers ; she was also 
 preceded by six damsels in cloth vestments, for her service. 
 She wore a wreath of asparagus round her head. She was 
 accompanied by Master Chiavello, governor of Fabriano, and 
 the ambassadors of Venice andFlorence on horseback ; all the 
 honourable gentlewomen going before, dancing, clothed each 
 according to the quarter of the town to which she belonged, 
 those who did not dance walking behind. The commune 
 of Perugia, in order to enhance the importance of the festival 
 gave ten florins of gold to each company. In front there 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 279 
 
 were a great number of trumpeters who sounded in the 
 manner of an invitation to come to the festival, during which 
 no one was allowed to open his shop for the space of eight 
 days. The banquet was laid for the Signori of San Lorenzo 
 in the papal saloon, around which were placed a great many- 
 tables, supports being made for the torches. The table of 
 Biordo was at the head of the saloon, raised above all the 
 others. The masters of the feast were Baldo della Nina, 
 Spaccalfico and Massietto Cambiatore, at whose table there 
 were placed three hundred trenchers for each course. So 
 that it was said in Tuscany that there was never seen before 
 so fine a festival. The ladies were entertained altogether at 
 the house of Biordo, which was on the hill of Porta Sole, 
 and were a very royal company. 
 
 "The day following all the above mentioned cities, 
 territories and other places brought presents and unique 
 gifts ; first the ambassador of Venice, presenting one which 
 was worth two hundred florins of gold, that of Florence 
 being a robe of scarlet and a horse in trappings, that of 
 Citta di Castello being another robe and a horse. Orvieto 
 presented an entire table-service all of silver ; Todi the 
 same with two pieces of velvet. Other ambassadors did the 
 like. Besides these there were a great number of ladies, 
 habited with the device borne by the quarter in which Biordo 
 dwelt, who had almost all made three vests to each person 
 who went dancing about the piazza. On Wednesday a 
 helmed man jousted, bearing the arms of the commune be- 
 hind, that is the griffin, one of the household of Chiavello 
 and others contending ; the joust lasting until night, when 
 the torches had to be lighted. The prize was given to him 
 of Chiavello's household. It was a very high festival."* 
 
 The account of Biordo's death is given by Graziani, one of 
 the local historians above spoken of, in a very circumstantial 
 way. It is as follows : — 
 
 ** On the tenth of March Biordo de li Michelotti was made 
 
 * Memorie di Perugia dal 1308 al 1398. Quoted by Fabretti in his 
 " Capitani d' Umbria." Note e documenti. 
 
 U 2 
 
28o THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 Count of Val di Chiana. On the same day, that is the 
 tenth of March, on Sunday morning, the said Michelotti was 
 killed by the abbot Francesco, son of Simone di Cecolo 
 dei Guidalotti, he was abbot of San Pietro : a man full of 
 malice and deceit as appears by this homicide and the manner 
 in which it occurred, as we shall proceed to narrate below. 
 
 "To recount in full all the particulars of the death of 
 the said Biordo, it may be stated that Biordo trusted in 
 Simone di Cecolo more than in any other man in the world, 
 and more than if he had been a relative ; conferring with 
 him on his most secret affairs. One day he confided to him 
 a plan which he had formed to raise himself very much by 
 means of certain clever accomplices ; for he was very much 
 beloved of them and every other person, both rich and poor, 
 — more than any who before had held Perugia, and this was 
 for the great benignity, suavity, and affection, which distin- 
 guished him. After having told Simone everything, as has 
 been said, Simone revealed it all to the other Guidalotti, who, 
 moved with envy, at once sought to procure his death in 
 some manner, and then to give the city into the hands 
 of the pope ; this treachery being devised by the abbot 
 Francesco dei Guidalotti, who did all he could to forward 
 the design thinking thus to rise to the dignity of cardinal. 
 And, so, as fortune would have it, on the tenth of March on 
 Sunday morning, the above-named abbot Francesco left 
 San Pietro and came on horseback to the end of the hill of 
 Landone, his house being there ; he and some of his com- 
 pany leaving their horses there. Then the abbot, with two 
 of his brothers, Giovanni and Anibaldo, sons of Simone di 
 Cecolo, went towards the house of Biordo on the hill of the 
 Porta Sole, Armanno di Ugolino going with them, together 
 with many other friends ; in all about twenty, all of whom had 
 sworn an oath to the same effect. 
 
 " When they had arrived, they gave Biordo to understand 
 that the abbot Francesco wanted to speak to him on 
 a matter of great importance ; whereupon he quickly 
 rose from his bed and went to the cloister, without 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 281 
 
 having any arms upon him whatever. When the abbot 
 entered Biordo went towards him, saying, * I rejoice to 
 see you. I did not wish to trouble you to come to me, 
 so I have come to you.' The abbot bowed and saluted 
 him, and taking him by the hand presently embraced him. 
 Then Giovanni, Anibaldo, and the other accomplices attack- 
 ing Biordo from behind, struck him in the throat with 
 poisoned knives, until they had killed him. Gaidone was 
 with Biordo, who, it is said, was also in the conspiracy ; 
 there were also two servants with him, but they did not 
 help him, as was supposed, through fear. As soon as the 
 abbot and the company saw that Biordo was quite dead 
 they immediately went for their horses to their house on 
 the hill of Landone, and mounting them, went down to San 
 Pietro, staying there and sending for all their friends ; but 
 Armanno when he was mounted did not go with the abbot, 
 but took the way towards the piazza, and went about the 
 piazza crying, ' We have killed the tyrant,' thinking by 
 that to lead the people with him ; but not a single person 
 followed. By this time it had got abroad in Perugia that 
 Biordo was dead, although there were not twenty persons 
 in the piazza ; almost every one being in the church at the 
 sermon. As soon as those who were listening to the sermon 
 heard of the death of Biordo, they went out and immediately 
 armed themselves, and then came into the piazza crying, 
 ' Death to the traitors !' so all the people followed them 
 crying, ' Death to the traitors !' Andrea di Madonna Fiore 
 with certain companions, was amongst the first to arrive in 
 the piazza, who, when he saw Armanno, went towards him 
 crying, * Kill, kill the traitors.' Upon which Armanno 
 turned his horse and galloped to San Pietro, whither the 
 abbot had gone with the rest of his companions. As soon 
 as he reached them the abbot and the others went imme- 
 diately to Casalina, taking as many friends with them as 
 they could find. On the other side the people, being all 
 armed, did nothing but cry, 'Death to the traitors!' searching 
 for the abbot and the other Guidalotti with the intention 
 
282 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 of killing them, all running to their houses and the houses 
 of their followers, from which they took all the things, 
 and then set fire to them : that is, first to the houses of 
 Simone di Cecolo and Francesco di Nino and then to the 
 houses of the partisans of the said Guidalotti which were all 
 sacked and burned. At noon Francesco di Nino, uncle to the 
 before-mentioned abbot, was found in the piazza at the shop 
 of Leonardo, and immediately killed by one Agobio, fellow- 
 cousin of Biordo. Shortly afterwards Sigisnolfo, going 
 through the town on horseback seeking for the Guidalotti 
 and their followers to kill them, was informed that Simone 
 di Cecolo, father of the abbot, was hid in the district of 
 Sansanne in the house of Antonio de la Mona, apothecary ; 
 so they went thither and killed him, afterwards throwing him 
 out of the window. After vespers Giacopo di Bartolommeo 
 and another were found near the fountain of Buzago, going to 
 rejoin the abbot at Casalina, who were both slain. On the 
 same day Gaidone was hanged near Capo Cavallo : he had 
 fled ; and as it was believed that he belonged to the band of 
 traitors they hanged him. It is said that the conspiracy 
 was arranged at San Pietro, where the abbot had intended 
 to give a feast to which Biordo was to have been asked with 
 many other citizens, and there they were all to have been 
 killed ; thus it was arranged, all of which was revealed by 
 Luca Torsciano, whose head was cut off, because he belonged 
 to the faction. The same day the news was sent to Madonna 
 Baldina, the mother of Biordo, and to Madonna the Countess, 
 his wife, and to Cecolino : the commune sending them 
 word to Todi, where they were staying. Cecolino was 
 recommended to remain in Todi until they sent for him ; 
 and this the commune did, because Cecolino was a man 
 very hasty and terrible, and they feared he might do some 
 great mischief: so that Cecolino after having accompanied 
 the ladies as far as the confines of Perugia returned to Todi. 
 In the meanwhile the blood of Biordo was gathered up and 
 put into a basin, and was buried the following night in the 
 church of San Francesco together with the body in a coffin. 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 283 
 
 When the before-mentioned women arrived, there was a 
 great weeping and an honourable funeral wa.?, ordained, the 
 commune of Perugia causing a helmet of silver to be made 
 for his tomb and a standard with the device of a white 
 griffin upon it. Afterwards there were made many banners 
 with his arms upon them. On the Sunday and Monday 
 the people were occupied continually in carrying away grain, 
 wine and corn from the abbey of San Pietro, and on Tuesday 
 it was set on fire, in order that there might be an abbey no 
 longer, since it was said that it had been found on record, 
 that many times treachery against the state of Perugia had 
 been plotted within its walls ; and therefore all was burnt 
 save the church. On the Tuesday, that was the twelfth of 
 March, it was determined to raze the fortress of Sant 
 Apollinare, which belonged to the abbey. On the ninth 
 day after the death of Biordo, that was the eighteenth of 
 the month, there was published a proclamation throughout 
 the city, that the shops should not be opened. The cere- 
 monial of the funeral was prepared in the palace of the 
 captains, in which there was raised an elevated platform, 
 upon which was placed the coffin covered with black, so that 
 every one might see it ; and about it was erected a square 
 frame-work upon which were placed burning torches, many 
 mourning men and women standing around, and many re- 
 tainers on horseback covered with black even to the ground, 
 with banners in their hands ; and they went through all the 
 city crying aloud and making great lamentation and weep- 
 ing, saying, * Our lord and master !' And almost all the 
 people wept and said that the father of the people was 
 dead ; and much people remained in the piazza covered 
 with black cloaks ; although every one was armed, for fear 
 lest some disturbance should arise. And so the coffin was 
 borne about the piazza amidst such grievous mourning as 
 would have made a heart of stone weep. Then it was carried 
 back to the palace, Biordo's mother tearing her hair with so 
 great violence as to leave none on her head. This was in the 
 pergola of the palace in which the mother and wife of Biordo 
 
284 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 stood dressed in mourning ; and then the v/idow had all her 
 hair cut off, upon which the lamentations were once more 
 renewed in such a manner that it may not be told or re- 
 counted. Around the coffin a great number of torches were 
 placed and all the priests and friars, as many as could be 
 found, and much people, both men and women, went as far 
 as the palace of the Signori accompanying the coffin ; many 
 persons remaining in the piazza out of suspicion. Also the 
 country persons made great lamentation ; for to them Biordo 
 had been very favourable and a great benefactor." 
 
 But by far the most illustrious and distinguished of these 
 local captains or governors, who were little kings in their 
 territories, was Braccio da Montone surnamed Fortebraccio. 
 He was born in Perugia in one thousand three hundred and 
 sixty eight ; his family at that time owning the feudal 
 territory of Montone, a fortress lying some distance to the 
 north of Perugia towards Citta di Castello. He distin- 
 guished himself in arms when still a youth by repressing a 
 plot against his brothers at that place, and reinstating them 
 in their possession. He began life as d military adventurer, 
 but all his ambition was finally concentrated in the desire to 
 possess himself of the rulership of his native town. More 
 than once he had attempted to seize it by force of arms, but 
 in vain ; every hand was raised against him. Even the 
 women, once when he had won his way into the city, inciting 
 their sons and husbands to resistance, poured on the devoted 
 foe boiling water and live ashes, hurling upon them all the 
 missiles within their reach. As to the men, the historian says, 
 they fought not as army against army, but as man against 
 man ; as if their enmity were not a matter of public difference, 
 but one of private hatred and personal vengeance, crying for 
 the blood of each individual opponent. Against such ob- 
 stinate bravery, Braccio could do nothing. He rallied his 
 troops in vain. At last he was driven out of the city, to the 
 great joy of the Perugians, and their sorrow also, for he left 
 them the sore task of opening and filling many new graves. 
 
 It was only after the assassination of Biordo Michelotti 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 285 
 
 that a better opportunity favoured him with success. Whilst 
 various powers were contending for their rights over Perugia 
 Braccio mustered all the forces that he could, meeting the 
 Perugians and their allies under Malatesta di Rimini, 
 near San Giovanni on the banks of the Tiber below the 
 city. It was on this occasion that Braccio introduced a 
 new method of fighting which Campano says was always 
 afterwards adopted. Instead of marshalling all his army 
 together, he divided it into squadrons, appointing a re- 
 liable commander over each. The two armies met on a 
 plain near the bridge between the hills and the river. Be- 
 fore the battle commenced Braccio took care to provide 
 ample means of refreshment for his soldiers, organizing 
 attendants to carry through his army supplies of water to 
 reinvigorate the men under the heat of a midsummer sun : 
 the battle being fought upon a dry and arid plain thickly 
 covered with dust. This arrangement probably decided 
 the fortunes of the day, for whilst the soldiers of Braccio 
 were thus able to refresh themselves from time to time, the 
 opposing troops under Malatesta, overcome with the blaze 
 of a July sun, their eyes and mouths filled with hot dust, 
 bathed in perspiration, and having no opportunity of re- 
 moving their helmets for a moment, were at last so borne 
 down by the continued strokes of the enemy as to be 
 unable to use their swords, and after considerable slaughter 
 were finally led away unresisting prisoners. When the 
 Perugians within the city heard of their sad defeat at the 
 hand of the foe whom they had formerly so successfully 
 resisted, they were filled with consternation. A profound 
 silence reigned throughout the town, more terrible, as the 
 historian says, than any spoken complaints could be. No one 
 dared to look another in the face in the heaviness of his 
 own grief: whilst the women shut themselves up in their 
 houses mourning both their living and their dead. 
 
 In the meantime the Council of Ten deliberated as to what 
 was the best thing to do. There could be only one conclu- 
 sion. If the city must be saved from outrage, fire and 
 
286 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 slaughter, it must be given up to Braccio. It was a bitter 
 decision, but it was done. 
 
 No sooner was this conclusion arrived at than the whole 
 city began to prepare for the entrance of their conqueror as 
 for a public festival. The streets along which he and his 
 army would be supposed to pass were lined with carpets 
 and tapestries covering the walls of the houses, the ground 
 being strewn with flowers. Not only were valuable stuffs 
 hung from the windows, but also gold chains and costly 
 jewellery — even to the ornaments worn by the women — 
 suspended in wreaths reaching almost to the ground, dazzled 
 the eyes with their splendour on every side. The whole 
 piazza was covered with an awning to ward oif the rays of 
 the sun. Every one opened his treasures, whether for 
 private use or for commerce, to the public gaze. The 
 Palazzo Publico, or Town Hall, surpassed all the rest. Carpets 
 from French looms, of exquisite workmanship decorated the 
 windows ; vases of silver and gold were ranged in its front, 
 exposed to the eyes of all. All this was done to let the 
 conqueror know they trusted him with everything. Braccio 
 however did not make his triumphal entry in the manner 
 that was expected. He crept in suspiciously through 
 another gate where no sort of preparation had been made 
 for him, and only on arriving at the piazza amidst the fes- 
 tive sounds of trumpet and pipe was he assured that no 
 treachery lay behind all this display. Here the magistrates, 
 nobles, and chief citizens were called upon to swear alle- 
 giance to his jurisdiction ; and the oath was taken, bitterly 
 enough, doubtless, by many who put on a cordial front and 
 a smiling face, to force a seeming welcome. 
 
 The Perugians, however, had, after all, perhaps little 
 reason to regret the necessity that thrust the adventurous 
 man-at-arms upon them, since he did everything to make 
 his rule a light and equitable one, and, perhaps, kept out 
 the dominion of more lawless and ruthless despots. 
 
 It is hard now to recall the fierce vindictive spirit of these 
 troubled times. How bitter was the cherished hatred for a 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 287 
 
 wrong, real or imaginary ; how relentless the revenge that 
 followed it. A single event extracted from the diary tJf 
 Graziani will illustrate this better than a volume written 
 upon it. 
 
 " On the tenth of February," he says, " one thousand four 
 hundred and thirty-seven, in the country of Acquapendente 
 there were three shepherd boys taking care of their charge, 
 and chatting together, when one said to another, * Let us see 
 what it is to hang a man.' So being agreed, one attached a 
 rope to one of the others, the third raising him from the 
 ground by the neck ; then he who had placed the rope 
 about his neck tied the other end of it to the branch of an 
 oak. At this instant a wolf was seen to approach them, 
 upon which the two fled, leaving the other hanging. When 
 the wolf went away the two returned, finding their com- 
 panion dead. So they took him down and buried him. 
 On the Sunday the father of him who was dead, went, as 
 was the custom, to pay his son a visit, and to take him 
 bread. Not finding him in the pasture, he asked his com- 
 panions about him, and so, by much questioning, one of 
 them told him what had occurred. Then the father, as 
 soon as he understood that his son was dead, seized the 
 shepherd who had told him, and finding where they had 
 buried him, took out a knife, and killed him on the spot ; 
 and then, cutting him open, drew forth his liver and took it 
 home, and invited the father of him whom he had slain to 
 come and eat with him. When he came, he gave him the 
 liver of his son, telling him after he had eaten, that it was a 
 part of his son. Then the father of the one who was hanged 
 took the slayer of his son and killed him. Then the mother 
 went shrieking to the mother of him who was hanged, and 
 killed her likewise. And so from one to another, and from 
 another to somebody else, it was said that by the end of 
 February, that is in less than a month, for this cause, 
 between men women and heirs, about thirty-six persons 
 had been slain." 
 
 If the people were impulsive in their revenge, they wer§ 
 
288 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 scarcely less so in their religion. The same historian has 
 left us a very characteristic picture in the following account 
 of the preaching of a friar in Perugia. 
 
 " On the nineteenth of September (one thousand four 
 hundred and ninety-two), on Wednesday, Berardino di Ouillo 
 of Siena, a friar of the Order of the Observance of St. Francis, 
 from Assisi, commenced to say mass, and to preach at the 
 top of the piazza at Perugia. It was said that in Assisi 
 he had accomplished a great work, more especially in 
 making the peace between those who had been long ene- 
 mies, one for the death of a father, another for that of his 
 brothers, another of his sons. On the first day no shop was 
 opened until the sermon was over ; and there was much 
 people. On the Thursday there was a proclamation that 
 no person should open his shop, neither should any servant 
 or workman be permitted to work during the sermon. 
 Nevertheless, it was allowed that if any person, either from 
 engagements of public business, or any special service, 
 could not come to the sermon at the sounding of the 
 bell of San Lorenzo, he should not be taken or imprisoned 
 afterwards. And always there was much people, gentlemen 
 and ladies. On the twenty-third of September, on Sunday, 
 as well as could be judged and reckoned, there were more 
 than three thousand persons at the sermon. He preached 
 on the sacred Scriptures, reproving persons of every vice and 
 wickedness, and expounding the Christian life. Then he 
 denounced head-dresses, false hair, and every vain decora- 
 tion of the women ; and the gaming-table, cards, dice, 
 counterfeits, and amulets of the men : so that within fifteen 
 days the women sent all their false hair, head-dresses and 
 ornaments, and the men their dice, cards, tables, and. such 
 like in great quantity to the convent of St. Francis : and on 
 the twenty-ninth of October, the friar Berardino caused all 
 these diabolical things {cose diaboliche) to be gathered in the 
 piazza, and there had laid a pile of wood, between the 
 fountain and the bishop's palace, on which all the aforesaid 
 were placed things and on Sunday they were set on fire. 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 289 
 
 after the sermon. The -fire was so large that it would be 
 impossible to describe it : things of the highest value being 
 burned in it. So great was the rush of men and women to 
 avoid the flames, that many would have stood in danger of 
 their lives, if it had not been for the assistance of the citizens. 
 At this sermon there was an infinite number of persons." 
 
 A still more singular picture is presented to us in the 
 account of a religious impersonification, or species of miracle- 
 play, which forms an interesting comparison with its modern 
 survivor in Bavaria. 
 
 "On the fifth January (fourteen hundred and forty- 
 eight) there came to Perugia a certain Friar Robert of 
 Leccie, of the Order of the Observance of Saint Francis. 
 He was twenty-two years of age, and came to preach the 
 lent sermons. On the twenty-ninth of March, which was 
 Good Friday, he commenced to preach in the piazza every 
 day. On Holy Thursday he preached on the Communion, 
 and invited all the people for Good Friday ; and at the end 
 of his sermon on the Passion, he caused this representation 
 to be made : that is, he preached at the head of the piazza, 
 outside of the gate of San Lorenzo, where there was a 
 terrace arranged, reaching from the gate to the corner, 
 towards the house of Cherubino degli Armanni ; and there, 
 when they should have displayed the crucifix, there came 
 from San Lorenzo, Eliseo de Cristofano, a barber of the gate 
 of St. Agnolo, in the likeness of Christ, naked, with the cross 
 on his shoulder, the crown of thorns on his head, and his body 
 appearing all beaten and scourged, as Christ was beaten. 
 And there appeared armed men, who led him to be crucified ; 
 and they went round the people, down towards the fountain, 
 until they came to the entrance of the Scudellare ; and they 
 then went up to the Audience Chamber of the Exchange, 
 and thence to the above-mentioned terrace, and there, in the 
 middle of the terrace, they were met by one in the character 
 of the Virgin Mary, dressed all in black, weeping piteously, 
 in the manner of the mystery of the passion of Jesus Christ : 
 and when they had reached the place where Friar Robert 
 
290 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 stood, they remained there some time, the cross being still 
 carried : and all the people wept and cried for mercy. 
 Then the cross was laid down, and an image of Christ 
 which had been prepared beforehand, was placed upon the 
 cross, and it was raised, and then the cries of the people 
 were much greater than before, and Our Lady began to 
 lament at the foot of the cross, together with St. John and 
 Mary Magdalene and Mary Salome, who pronounced some 
 verses of the Lament of the Passion. And then came 
 Nicodemus, and Joseph of Arimathea, and took away the 
 body of Christ and placed it in the lap of Our Lady ; and 
 then they placed it in the tomb, every one continually 
 weeping with a loud voice. And many said that there 
 was never in Perugia so great and pious devotion as this. 
 And that morning there were six persons made friars : one 
 was the above-mentioned Eliseo, a foolish youth, Tomaso 
 di Marchegino, Bino, who was with the priors,* the son of 
 Bocco del Borgho di Sant Antonio, and Ricciere di Fran- 
 cescone di Tanolo. Many others had also previously taken 
 upon them the monkish garb by reason of the preaching of 
 the said Friar Robert." 
 
 If the historian had ended his narrative here one might 
 have had the more faith in the powerful mode of appeal 
 made by the earnest friar: but he carries it on a little 
 further : — 
 
 *' At the end of three or four months," he says, " the said 
 Eliseo di Cristofano of the Porta St. Agnolo came out of 
 the monastery and returned to his business of barber, and 
 was afterwards called by the name of Domenedio (Lord- 
 God), and then he took a wife and became a greater ribald 
 than he was before." 
 
 I shall only make one more extract from these curious 
 old records. It is the description of a singular custom of 
 the city, which was called a "game," which no doubt helped 
 to keep up the belligerent spirit of the times. It went by 
 the name of the Battle of Stones (La Battaglia di Sassi), 
 * The priors were the chief persons or magistrates of the city. 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 291 
 
 and is thus described by Campano in his Life of Braccio 
 Fortebraccio. 
 
 " The whole city was divided into two parts, the one at 
 the top, and the other at the bottom of the piazza, furnished 
 with new and unaccustomed arms ; although there were 
 some, in order to be more light and nimble, who only carried a 
 shield, wearing a helmet and boots of raw and indurated hide ; 
 or instead of a shield, a hood was worn, these being called 
 lancers, for the facility they had in throwing and sheltering 
 themselves. These, on account of their dexterity, led the 
 first battle, and then, when it was fairly commenced, retired 
 behind another class of combatants, called armed troops. 
 The armour of these was much heavier than that borne in 
 battle. They wore on their feet certain light shoes, made 
 of linen cloth folded three times, stuffed with stags' hair ; 
 on the legs, up to the knee, they wore the same material 
 covered with very hard double leather, the knee being pro- 
 tected with iron greaves covered over with scarlet cloth. 
 The body was defended by a cuirass, under which were 
 placed waddings of tow and cotton sewn in linen, which 
 lay close to the person, covering the shoulders and back, 
 and falling to the elbows like sleeves. They also wore 
 collars of cloth and cotton, covered with very hard raw 
 hide about the throat and neck. The head was covered 
 with a helmet, which was pointed in front like the beak of 
 a falcon ; and in order that they might the better be able to 
 see the stones in the air and use their own with more 
 advantage against the adversary, there were two large holes 
 cut in the front, leaving the sight exposed. At the top of 
 this helmet there was a roll woven of hard felt three times 
 doubled, spread out in the form of a cap surmounted by a 
 plume of purple or silver, according to the calling of him 
 who wore it : this was tipped with a crest of various colours. 
 The shoulders were covered half way down to the waist 
 with a red mantle, all the rest of the back being ornamented 
 with beautiful vestments. These were they who were called 
 armed troops, whose function was not so much to contend 
 
292 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 with the adversary, as to act as reserves to sustain the 
 battle, although they often enough fought themselves, and 
 for this purpose carried a cudgel, tied to their right arm, 
 and a shield on the left. When all the people armed in 
 various ways were congregated^ in the piazza, each retired 
 to the one side or the other, and thus divided into parties, 
 one occupied the top, and the other the bottom of the 
 piazza, the fighting taking place in the midst. The first to 
 enter upon the battle were the most spirited and robust of 
 the young men, fighting until the hour of tierce ; then the 
 boys alone, armed also for defence, throwing stones, the 
 one against the other, for two hours continuously. The 
 rest of the day was occupied in fighting promiscuously 
 both young and old. Those with the protective head-gear 
 were placed in front, whose office it was to throw at the 
 adversary from a distance, and as neither of these would 
 retire, they at last closed upon each other, whereupon the 
 armed troops came forward. It was considered a disgrace 
 for the latter to throw stones, but rushing into the midst, they 
 used their cudgels and their shields, not desisting because 
 others were throwing stones at them in the meantime. It 
 was a fine sight (belHssimo spettacolo) to see first one fall 
 down wounded, and then another rolled over on the ground, 
 some protected by their shields flinging themselves with 
 their full weight on the adversary, or throwing themselves 
 into the thick of the fight, and giving it their opponents on 
 the face and eyes with shield and cudgel. The victory 
 consisted in occupying the middle of the piazza, the enemy 
 having been driven from it. But the finest sight of all was 
 to see the old men, who, standing at the windows, as soon 
 as they saw the party they were attached to give way or 
 flee, without having respect to their years or infirmities (so 
 great was the enthusiasm of the parties), rush out of the 
 houses, and taking ofl^ their mantles and vests, run to give 
 them help and rally them. Two thousand citizens frequently 
 fought in this manner in the piazza. Nor did the strife 
 ever pass without bloodshed, every year ten or twenty men 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 293 
 
 remaining either dead or disabled. This diversion was not, 
 however, prolonged throughout the year. It only com- 
 menced in the month of March, continuing for the two 
 months following, and was only practised on holidays. The 
 parents of those who were killed never recognising any 
 injury or enmity whatever, considered the deaths the result 
 of accident or misfortune. The combat was never ter- 
 minated until one of the parties was driven from its posi- 
 tion. Finally, whoever called for peace, whether boy or 
 man, the combatants separated. Every one said that there 
 was no game in Italy so desperate as this ; and it was 
 believed that on this account the people had become so 
 vigorous in body and undaunted in mind. The soldiers of 
 Braccio frequently took part with the youths, and entered 
 into the battle, but they were easily worsted by the Peru- 
 gians. It is said that Braccio, once standing at a window 
 which overlooked the piazza, was asked to command a truce, 
 the encounter being so obstinate that neither party would give 
 way, so that many were falling. * Do you wish,' he replied 
 * that I should be like the mayor of Sinigaglia .?' Which is a 
 proverb used when a command, however often given, is not 
 obeyed ; perhaps even he who commands being disposed to 
 follow an opposite course." 
 
 Perugia is dignified by many very noble works of art. Here 
 Pietro Vanucci, called Perugino, lived and worked with a 
 mind always calm, enriched by some of the sweetest and 
 tenderest irtiagery that ever blossomed from the human 
 soul. The Cambio, or Exchange, still bears upon its walls 
 some of the glories of his pencil : prophet, warrior, and 
 philosopher, all refined to a delicate spiritualism which 
 causes them to appeal to the soul rather than the eye. He 
 seems to have lived in a world quite remote from the clash 
 and din of the middle ages, tenanted by calm and happy 
 beings, to whom all storms were lulled in the peace of a 
 tranquil mind, accordant with itself and with that by which 
 it was surrounded. 
 
 The principal piazza has remained unchanged. Its old 
 
 X 
 
294 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 fountain with its half obHterated sculptures gave us many 
 hours delightful occupation in the attempt to spell out its 
 quaint fancies. Sometimes in the afternoons, when the 
 shadows began to stretch along the sward, we would recline 
 before the glorious fayade of Agostino Ducci at the church 
 of the confraternity of Saints Andrea and Bernardino, 
 studying with delighted eyes the moving assemblage of 
 angelic forms that float and wave over its surface, drawing 
 the soul with them in mazy ecstasies of delight. Sometimes 
 we would follow the courses of the hills, and, seated amongst 
 the olives, strive to carry away upon paper some me- 
 morial of the prospect by which we were surrounded. Thus 
 passed the artist's holiday, whose life has so much to make it 
 always a holiday when it is ordinarily prosperous and happy. 
 
 About ten miles from Perugia, connected with the Tiber 
 by a small tributary, is Assisi, an old-fashioned mediaeval 
 town built on a rise at the foot of the Apennines. Once 
 it was a busy and important little place : now its vitality is 
 absorbed in the neighbourhood of the more active and 
 wealthy Perugia. It is but the shadow of what it was. Its 
 long dreary streets only echo emptily to the feet of a few 
 passers ; its ancient mansions falling to decay. Plere and 
 there at picturesque corners are seen shrines of the Madonna 
 painted centuries ago, before which the tiny lamp still burns 
 and the votive wreath is laid ; their fine old frescoes gradually 
 crumbling from the walls. Above its terraced ways, overlook- 
 ing the whole town and the broad Umbrian plain, a broken 
 old castle keeps grim watch and ward with sturdy walls 
 resisting the wintry blast, which here sometimes rushes from 
 the gorges of the hills with terrible fury. At one side of 
 the town arid somewhat lower in elevation rises the church 
 of St. Francis and the convent with its cloistered galleries 
 and spiring cypresses, venerable in religious history. 
 
 Assisi is of very ancient origin. It was probably a town 
 in the earliest days* of Rome. A fine portico of an ancient 
 temple of Minerva still remains, which is now built into a 
 church in the piazza. It is supposed to have been the 
 
Chap. X. ' PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 295 
 
 birthplace of the Latin poet Propertius, alluded to in his 
 epistle to Tullus : " Umbria, rich in fertile land joining close 
 to the champaign country beneath, gave me birth." * 
 
 Metastasio the famous dramatic poet was also born here. 
 But it derives far more of its celebrity from having been the 
 home and birthplace of St. Francis, whose influence had so 
 wide and large a power throughout Europe in the Middle 
 Ages. He was born in one thousand one hundred and 
 eighty- two ; the son of a well-to-do cloth merchant. In 
 early life he appears to have been one of the gayest and 
 most spirited young gallants of his time, singing troubadour 
 songs in the streets — always ready to join in the con- 
 vivialities of his companions, without any traces of the 
 asceticism for which he was afterwards distinguished. He 
 must have taken part in the embroilments which were 
 constantly occurring between his native town and Perugia, 
 since he once lay a prisoner for a whole year at the latter 
 place. As he grew into manhood more serious sentiments 
 were gradually impressed upon his mind. Like every newly 
 awakened soul he at first sought blindly after his real 
 destiny and function through endless doubts and perplexi- 
 ties. It resolved itself to him afterwards in a literal accep- 
 tation of the doctrines of Christianity, which he received 
 rather from the side of dogma than interpreted as reason- 
 able laws. His final step was to adopt the condition of entire 
 and absolute poverty. From a few followers his doctrines 
 — or rather his example ; for he was a man of few words, and 
 taught no more orally than might be easily set down upon 
 a sheet of foolscap — influenced the whole of Christendom, 
 reaching from the highest grade of society to the lowest. 
 In England the order which he instituted was called that of 
 the Grey Friars. Perhaps no one ever lived a more con- 
 sistent life. His rule of poverty was never broken. When 
 he gave up his last mantle, all but the garment which he wore 
 
 * Proxima supposito contingens Umbria campo 
 Me genuit, terris fertilis uberibus, 
 
 Kl. i. 22. 
 
 X 2 
 
296 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 nearest his skin, to a destitute beggar, he said, " This man's 
 misery covers us with confusion ; for we have chosen poverty 
 as a great treasure, and lo ! he is poorer than any one of 
 us." He carried neither scrip nor purse ; never accumulat- 
 ing anything ; but always having his needs supplied, either 
 by the labour of his hands or the charity of others. That 
 which he professed and followed was the very chivalry of 
 religion. " Truly this is the camp and army of the knights 
 of God," exclaimed Cardinal Ugolino as he came upon the 
 straw huts which the new order had erected near Assisi. 
 Nothing is more striking in the character of this noble- 
 hearted enthusiast than his love for the whole creation — 
 his recognition of the purposes of God throughout the 
 universe. He called the sun his brother and death his 
 sister ; the fire that burnt him and the pains that tore him 
 in his last illness were addressed in similar terms. The 
 birds were hiis brothers and sisters : every creature was dear 
 to him. The poet could not have had a better illustration that, 
 
 He prayeth well who loveth well 
 Both man and bird and beast. 
 
 His mission was a great one. He impressed upon all 
 Christencdom by a fine example, when absolute power and 
 riches, ill-gotten though they might be, were considered the 
 highest earthly good and worthiest object of life, that their 
 attainment far from being indispensable to happiness was 
 frequently a hinderance to it. When his country, and indeed 
 the whole of Europe, were torn with factions he came to 
 reinforce the blessings of peace and good will. To the im- 
 placable and remorseless cruelty of his time he taught 
 tenderness and gentleness. He placed reason and right 
 before the intoxications of ambition ; and though his own life 
 was an exaggerated one, perhaps nothing less would have 
 served to oppose and curb the redundant extravagancies 
 of the age in which he lived. Whatever may appear to 
 have been the mistakes of such a life, looking at it with the 
 social views of to-day, it was undoubtedly based on a truly 
 heroic sentiment which had its warrantable mission then. 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 297 
 
 It was to commemorate him that the fine church here 
 which bears his name was built — or rather it may be called 
 three churches, one standing above the other. Never had 
 man a nobler monument raised to his memory. Command- 
 ing some of the sweetest and most picturesque scenery of 
 Italy, it stands midway between the summits of the 
 Apennines rising behind it and the low-lying plain of 
 Foligno that sweeps from the foot of the hill to Perugia on 
 the one side and Spoleto on the other, a distance of forty 
 miles. A river winds beneath it, issuing from the recesses 
 of the mountains, following a northward course to the Tiber 
 through a considerable part of this fertile plain. The situation 
 is thus described by Dante in his ' Paradise.' 
 
 Betwixt Tupino and the stream descending 
 Down from the hill the blest Ubaldo chose, 
 A fertile tract is from the mount depending; 
 Whence to Perugia heat and cold do come 
 Through Porta Sole; and behind it those 
 Of Nocera and Gualdo mourn their doom. 
 On that side where the mountain falls away 
 Most gently, to the world a sun was born, 
 As from the Ganges springs the solar ray. 
 Whoso would therefore call the place aright — 
 Let it no longer of its fame be shorn, 
 And orient, not Ascesi be it hight.* 
 
 Wright's translation. These are the words of Dante ; 
 
 Intra Tupino e I'acqua che discende 
 Del coUe eletto dal beato Ubaldo, 
 Fertile costa d'alto monte pende, 
 
 Onde Perugia sente freddo e caldo 
 Da Porta Sole; e diretro le piange 
 Per greve giogo Nocera con Gualdo. 
 
 Di quella costa, la dov'ella frange 
 
 Piu sua rattezza, nacque al mondo un Sole 
 Gome fa questo talvolta di Gange. 
 
 Pero chi d'esso loco fa parole 
 
 Non dica Ascesi, che direbbe corto, 
 Ma Oriente, se proprio dir vuole. 
 
 Par. xi. 4j. 
 
298 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 The lowest of the three churches of St. Francis is the most 
 modern. It is the sepulchral crypt formed from a hollow in 
 the rock where the remains of the saint were found within the 
 present century ; the two upper churches were commenced 
 early in the thirteenth century ; a hundred years elapsing 
 before their completion. The lower of these two is the ideal 
 of a Christian temple as a place of pensive retirement. It 
 consists of a nave and transept composed of low, wide-span- 
 ning arches ; every inch of the walls being covered either 
 with pictures or ornamental decoration. It is pervaded by 
 a solemn gloom, even on bright days ; the light being 
 only sparingly admitted through painted windows. 
 
 Of the many precious works of art enshrined in these 
 religious shades I shall only mention one, probably the 
 masterpiece of Giotto, painted at the close of the thirteenth 
 century, which decorates the ceiling above the high altar. 
 It is a large fresco in four compartments, three of them re- 
 presenting the characteristic virtues of St. Francis, Poverty, 
 Chastity and Obedience, and the fourth his glorification, 
 surrounded by the hosts of heaven. They are epic in treat- 
 ment and abstrusely allegorical in their mode of expres- 
 sion. In one of them St. Francis is being married to Poverty 
 by our Lord. She is represented as a tattered female, with 
 her feet amongst thorns, her head being surrounded with 
 roses. Angels witness the ceremony. Two little boys in 
 the foreground throw mud at the espoused couple, a dog 
 barking viciously at a little distance.* 
 
 * Towards the end of the thirteenth century the doctrines of St. 
 Francis had obtained so wide an influence and became so largely abused, 
 that vast numbers of persons of all ages and both sexes left their houses 
 and homes for the profession of poverty — even to destitution. This was 
 productive of many evils and very great disorders; so much so that 
 Giotto himself, who had lent his pencil to illustrate the nobility of poverty 
 of spirit, and to protest against the inordinate desire of acquisition, thought 
 it necessary to use his pen as a corrective to the prevailing frenzy, in a 
 poem found by Trucchi in the Laurentian Library, and reprinted in his 
 ' Poesie Inedite.' " No '1 commendo," he says, " che rade volte stremo e 
 senza vizio" (I do not advocate it, for rarely are extremes without 
 sin) : adding that if any should say it was commended by our Lord, ] 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC 299 
 
 The third church built above this is in direct contrast to 
 it. It has a lofty ceiling ornamented with golden stars 
 upon an ultramarine ground. It is full of light and air, and 
 though some of its brilliant colours have suffered during the 
 lapse of almost six hundred years, there are still abundant 
 signs left of its former splendour. The fine puristic frescoes 
 that decorate the walls have been attributed to Giotto ; but 
 the discriminating art-student will probably come to the 
 conclusion that but few of them can be from his own 
 immediate hand. 
 
 It was a noble idea to set forth the blossoming of the 
 virtues hardest to follow in this elaborate structure — the 
 mortal sowing and the immortal reaping — the growth from 
 darkness into light — the groping amongst shadowy forms of 
 dimly discerned glories, till elevated into the regions of a 
 loftier radiance, they glow with a new lustre imparting light 
 to the day and fire to the sun. 
 
 Adjoining the church is the convent of St. Francis, 
 founded during the lifetime of the saint, early in the 
 thirteenth century. It consists of cloisters, cells and gal- 
 leries, constructed upon vast mural archways built against 
 the hill side. Strange to say this convent was singularly 
 privileged to be the holder of property : so that instead of 
 being a community of poor friars living by labour or alms 
 
 Che pero'l suo aver poco 
 Si fu per noi scampare dall' avarizia, 
 E non per darci via d'usar malizia. 
 (That his doctrine of possessing little was given forth that we might avoid 
 avarice, and not to open the way to evil.) In the same way Guido 
 Cavalcanti calls poverty, 
 
 Sposa d'ogni cosa persa 
 Per la quale e sommersa 
 DVonor al mondo ogni viva radice. 
 
 (The spouse of each polluted thing, by which is subverted every living 
 root of honour in the world.) 
 
 Guido Cavalcanti's poem is translated at length in Mr. D. G. Rossetti's 
 * Dante and his Circle:' a valuable selection of conscientiously reproduced 
 examples of the prinii secoli too little known. 
 
300 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 as their founder did, it was the seat of a wealthy religious 
 body, and became a sort of aristocratic retreat for men of 
 culture and refinement, who inhabited roomy and whole- 
 some apartments ; very different from those of other con- 
 vents of the same order. It is now suppressed with other 
 similar institutions, and altogether gives an impression of 
 intense melancholy — an impression that is deepened if one 
 enters the church at eventide as the setting sun throws his 
 last struggling beams through the painted pane, and instead 
 of the full choir of former days, one hears the forlorn 
 voices of a few religious brothers mournfully repeating the 
 evening ofifices of the church which are echoed from empty 
 walls and deserted benches. 
 
 The mediaeval condition of Assisi was, of course, an un- 
 settled one. The jealousy of its rulers and those of Perugia 
 constantly bred ill-feeling between them, which at last dif- 
 fusing itself amongst the people, was turned to the bitterest 
 enmity ; so much so that even traces of it are left to this day 
 in the occasional disparagement with which the inhabitants 
 of the one place speak of those of the other without any 
 apparent cause. One picture from Campano of the taking of 
 the town by Piccinino of Perugia in the year one thousand 
 four hundred and forty-two will sufficiently illustrate this. 
 
 " Piccinino, after having deferred the attack of Assisi until 
 the twenty-eighth of November, finally determined to advance 
 upon it at all hazards, and receiving opportune help from 
 Perugia, he distributed the people in this manner : Pazzaglia, 
 Pierbrunoro, and Riccio, from Citta di Castello, with all 
 their companies, were sent towards the upper fortress : 
 Fiergiovampaolo with the Perugians towards San Francesco ; 
 whilst he and his troops spread themselves about the other 
 parts of the city, giving orders to all that when the sign of 
 onset was given, they should approach the walls, and placing 
 ladders against them, should make every effort to enter the 
 city. By particular information he had also the secret 
 knowledge of an ancient aqueduct which commencing out- 
 side the city above the fortress, being smaller towards the 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 301 
 
 place called the Carceri, and opening into the city at the 
 market-place, appeared to offer a convenient passage for as 
 many soldiers as he could wish, if it were cleared of the 
 stakes and rubbish which had been formerly placed there 
 to bar the entrance. He accordingly sent thither Pazzaglia 
 and Riccio, with three hundred foot, who, sawing asunder 
 the upright beams which closed it, opened a way which 
 easily admitted the soldiers one by one. Thus making use 
 of the aqueduct, he sent a thousand of the best men of the 
 army into the city, which occupied the whole night. The 
 Perugian writers, however, do not give so large a number. 
 In the morning a little before dawn, it is said, they were 
 discovered in the city by one carrying a lighted torch, who 
 was passing a place where there were no houses, and hear- 
 ing persons near, called out- several times, ' Who is there }' 
 At last they replied, * Friends.' Whereupon, perceiving 
 they were enemies, he went away and commenced shouting, 
 * To arms, to arms : the enemy is amongst us !' This caused 
 those who were on guard to give notice to the other citizens 
 and soldiers, who took their arms and ran to the place whence 
 they heard the cries. In the meanwhile Pazzaglia and his 
 company, perceiving they were discovered, although the full 
 number of soldiers ordered by Piccinino had not yet entered 
 the aqueduct, emerged, and mounting the walls, cried, 
 ' Ladders, ladders ; come up, come up !' which being heard 
 by Piccinino, who happened to be near, he was quickly at 
 the foot of the walls, and flinging himself from his horse, 
 made the attack at a small aperture, which the Assisans 
 had opened for the purpose of skirmishing, large enough to 
 admit one man at a time ; the gates being kept closed. 
 Through this Piccinino entered, and, afterwards, his horse, 
 upon which being mounted, he commanded that the breach 
 should be widened, so that a man on horseback might pass 
 through, which was immediately done, so that his troops 
 f were able to enter with ease. In the meanwhile the soldiers 
 on guard and the people within the city had attacked those 
 who had entered by the aqueduct, and were in close engage- 
 
302 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 ment with them when the cavalry of Piccinino came up 
 shouting ' Braccio, Braccio ! Piccinino, Piccinino !' throwing 
 themselves with such energy upon the others that they were 
 forced to retire to the fortress. Immediately Count Carlo 
 Fortebraccio went thither with a good number of cavalry, 
 whereupon the foreign troops in the service of the Assisans to 
 the number of eight hundred, surrendered themselves ; all 
 of whom, at the desire of Piccinino, were spared uninjured. 
 Whilst this was going on at the fortress, Piergiovampaolo, 
 who as already stated was with the Perugians at the part 
 near San Francesco, when he heard the cries of his party, 
 also mounted the walls and entered the city, driving away 
 the guard from the gates, setting fire to them, and throw- 
 ing down the defences which the Assisans had raised, thus 
 opening a way for his troops, who entered the city, repulsing 
 the few that resisted, and setting themselves to pillage the 
 houses. Piergiovampaolo went to San Francesco making 
 many prisoners, who had ran thither expecting to find secu- 
 rity in that sacred place : he also took many things thence. 
 Alessandro Sforza, brother of Count Francesco, who had 
 come to Assisi, as has been said, on the twenty-first of the 
 month, to animate the courage of the citizens, promising 
 them succour, when he found the enemy within the city, 
 knowing his impotency to oppose them, retired to the larger 
 fortress with a good number of the principal citizens who 
 had followed him thither. By the magnanimity of Piccinino 
 these were liberated on the following day. Alessandro having 
 signified to Piccinino that he wished to speak with him, the 
 latter sent his secretary to him, to whom Alessandro said, 
 that for himself he asked neither grace nor favour, but that 
 he desired extremely that those citizens of Assisi who had 
 taken shelter with him in the fortress might be liberated. 
 To this Piccinino agreed ; allowing them to issue from their 
 retreat on his word of honour ; so that they went about the 
 city without fear of violence, unmolested by any one. But 
 the soldiers of Piccinino having in divers places overcome 
 the enemy, and having the victory in their hands, leaving off 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 303 
 
 fighting began to sack the houses, making prisoners of the 
 citizens they met, and, without any regard, scattering misery 
 and ruin at their pleasure. An anonymous writer of Perugia 
 narrating the occurrence, says, that such was the consterna- 
 tion, the uproar, the cries of the women, the children, and 
 the old men, one bewailing a son, another a father, another 
 a brother, that the very soldiers who had stripped the 
 houses and dragged out the women, compassionating their 
 distress, offered them the safety of their lives and the op- 
 portunity of escape ; but they, all disordered, bewailing 
 themselves and their ill-fortune, refused everything, only 
 asking their death. Of these many were led out of the city, 
 but more by those soldiers who had been placed on guard than 
 by others, because they had more confidence in them, and 
 went voluntarily. It is also narrated that many Perugians 
 joining this undertaking, not from any desire which they 
 had for it, but by order of their superiors, pitying the misery 
 and wretchedness of these women, did their utmost to pro- 
 cure the safety of their persons and their goods, but that 
 they drew upon themselves and their property the greater 
 injury, by not trusting themselves to the Perugians ; for, 
 instead of seeking safety from them, they would rather place 
 themselves in the hands of the foreigners ; so great was the 
 hatred they had conceived towards them. There is also 
 a very notable fact told of this occurrence. During this 
 revolution in affairs, a great number of women and children 
 with their effects had sought refuge in the convent of Santa 
 Qiiara of the order of St. Francis, which was very large 
 and celebrated, thinking to find security there, as well for 
 the sake of religion as for the excellence of the convent. 
 Whilst everything was being submitted to the sack of the 
 soldiers, Niccolo Piccinino came up, and seeing there so 
 many women and children, said to the women, and speci- 
 ally to the nuns, that everywhere being overrun by the 
 soldiery, this was no longer a fitting place for them to 
 remain, and that they might choose where they would go, 
 promising them escort and safety ; and at the same time 
 
304 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 naming various places in the vicinity, and amongst others his 
 own city, Perugia. Upon which, first the nuns and then the 
 other women with one voice indignantly cried, ' We go to 
 Perugia ! May consuming fires enter into it ; but not we !' 
 Piccinino growing angry at this, as something too insolent, 
 immediately turned to his men crying, ' To the pillage !' 
 and so presently everything went to ruin without regard to 
 the sisterhood or religion : the example being followed in 
 every other temple and sacred place, nowhere being secure 
 from the lawlessness of the soldiers, all being equally 
 submitted to sack and destruction. Only San Francesco 
 was saved from the first onset which Piergiovampaolo had 
 made from the outside, because Piccinino had sent a guard 
 thither in observance of a promise which he had made to 
 the reverend fathers of that community, who in that fear- 
 ful night were of no little service to the people ; passing 
 through the town, by permission obtained from the captain, 
 and wherever they found women, either in the houses or in 
 the streets, taking them to San Francesco, where, by their 
 means, many were placed in safety. The loss and damage 
 to the city was immense ; for there was no place, public or 
 private, sacred or profane, which was not made the prey of 
 the soldiers, who with their customary liberty and licence, 
 without any restraint from their general, used the greatest 
 cruelty in carrying off women and girls to obtain money 
 for them, and to give them to the service of others, of 
 whom many were redeemed by the Perugians, not for their 
 own interest, but to get them out of the hands of the 
 soldiers and send them back to their homes." 
 
 On this occasion all the public archives as well as vast 
 quantities of private documents were burnt, which were 
 sufficient to maintain a large bonfire for three days. 
 
 Whilst at Assisi the pilgrim of the Tiber must not omit 
 to visit one of its famous tributaries, the Clitumnus, which 
 under another name falls into it near Diruta. Its source is 
 to be found a few miles beyond Trevi. One delightful 
 afternoon, in company with a friend, I explored its upper 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 305 
 
 course. It has many classical associations. The younger 
 Pliny gives so circumstantial a description of it in a letter 
 to his friend Romanus, as it existed in the first century of 
 the Christian era, that I cannot do better than transcribe it 
 here in full. 
 
 " Have you ever seen," he says, " the source of the river 
 Clitumnus ? As I never heard you mention it, I imagine 
 not. Let me therefore advise you to visit it immediately. 
 It is but lately, indeed, that I had that pleasure, and I 
 condemn myself for not having viewed it sooner. At the 
 foot of a little hill covered with venerable and shady cypress- 
 trees, a spring issues, which gushing out in different and 
 unequal streams, forms itself, after several windings, into a 
 spacious basin, so extremely clear, that you may see the 
 pebbles and the little pieces of money which are thrown 
 into it as they lie at the bottom. From thence it is carried 
 off, not so much by the declivity of the ground, as by its 
 own weight and exuberance. It is navigable almost as soon 
 as it has quitted its source, and wide enough to admit a free 
 passage for vessels to pass each other as they sail with or 
 against the stream. The current runs so strong, though the 
 ground is level, that the large barges which go down the 
 river have no occasion to make use of their oars, while those 
 which ascend find it difficult to advance with the assistance 
 of oars and poles ; and this vicissitude of labour and ease is 
 exceedingly amusing when one sails up and down merely 
 for pleasure. The banks on each side are shaded with 
 great numbers of verdant ash and poplar-trees, as distinctly 
 reflected in the stream as if they were actually existing in 
 it. The water is as cold as snow, and as lucid too. Near 
 it stands an ancient and venerable temple, wherein is placed 
 a statue representing the river-god Clitumnus in his proper 
 vestment; and, indeed, the prophetic oracles here delivered 
 sufficiently testify the immediate presence of that divinity. 
 Several little chapels are scattered round, dedicated to 
 particular gods, distinguished by different names, and some 
 of them, too, presiding over different fountains. For, besides 
 
3o6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. X. 
 
 the principal spring, which is, as it were, the parent of all 
 the rest, there are several smaller streams, wHch, taking 
 their rise from various sources, lose themselves in the river, 
 over which a bridge is thrown that separates the sacred part 
 from that which lies open to common use. Vessels are 
 allowed to come above this, but no person is permitted to 
 swim except below it. The Hispellates [inhabitants of 
 Spello] to whom Augustus gave this place, furnish a public 
 bath, and likewise entertain all strangers at their own ex- 
 pense. Several villas, attracted by the beauty of this river, 
 are situated upon its borders. In short, every surrounding 
 object will afford you entertainment. You may also amuse 
 yourself with numberless inscriptions fixed upon the pillars 
 and walls by different persons, celebrating the virtues of the 
 fountain and the divinity who presides over it. There are 
 many of them you will greatly admire, as there are some 
 that will make you laugh ; but I must correct myself when 
 I say so ; you are too humane, I know, to laugh upon such 
 an occasion. Farewell."* 
 
 The cypresses have vanished from its source, and the 
 channel of the stream must have been since contracted, or 
 else the barges at that time must have been very narrow ; 
 as it would be difficult now to navigate it with more than 
 one barge at a time : there would certainly be no room for 
 the use of oars in any case. 
 
 Suetonius, in his * Life of Caligula,' says that, " Only 
 once did he take an active part in military affairs, and 
 then not from any set purpose, but during his journey to 
 Mevania [Bevagna], to see the river Clitumnus and its 
 grove." 
 
 It was not only held sacred in itself, but the animals 
 pastured on its banks were supposed to have gained their 
 whiteness from drinking its waters. In allusion to this 
 belief, Virgil, in singing the praises of Italy, thus apostro- 
 phises it : " Hence the white flocks, Clitumnus, and the 
 bull," principal victim, which often bathed in thy sacred 
 
 * Ep. viii. 8. (Melmoth's translation.) 
 
Chap. X. 
 
 PERUGIA, ASSISL ETC. 
 
 307 
 
 stream, leads the Roman Triumph to the temples of the 
 gods."* 
 
 It still retains its ancient character. Crystalline in its 
 purity — "limpid and clear as the mind of the just," it 
 rushes swiftly forwards through vineyards and orchards, 
 each turn revealing some new and delightful piece of 
 
 TEMPLE OF THE CLITUMNUS. 
 
 rusticity. Sometimes we came upon an aged tree covered 
 with ivy ; sometimes a patch of newly-reaped stubble ; some- 
 times we found little nooks and corners filled with luxu- 
 riant blossoms. Long green trailers were clearly seen in its 
 
   Hinc albi, Clitumne, greges et maxima taurus 
 Victima, saepe tiio perfusi flumine sacro 
 Romanes ad templa Deum duxere triumphos. 
 
 Geor. ii. 146. 
 
3o8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. X. 
 
 bed, waving to and fro as the stream went over them. On a 
 hot day it was inevitable that one should be tempted to the 
 luxury of a bath. I quickly undressed, and plunging into 
 the water was immediately seized with a most benumbing 
 coldness. A few strokes, in the vain attempt to head the 
 current, and I was on the bank again, shivering in the hot 
 sunshine. Near a little village called Pissignano, which 
 thrusts up the fragment of an old mediaeval tower from the 
 olive slopes, a short distance before reaching the source 
 of the stream, we found the famous temple that still 
 ornaments its banks. It consists of a facade with pedi- 
 ment and tympanum supported by four columns ; two 
 carved in imbricated foliage and two in spiral flutings. 
 There are several inscriptions upon it ; the passage for 
 conveying away the blood of the sacrifices is also still to 
 be seen. At the back of the temple there is the raised 
 carving of a cross surrounded by ornamental work, which 
 has given rise to the supposition that it might have been a 
 temple dedicated to Christian worship ; but it is far more 
 probable that the Christian symbol was of later insertion. 
 It is built of the calcareous stone of the district, and still 
 remains in excellent preservation, though somewhat injured 
 by an earthquake that occurred in this part of Umbria in 
 eighteen hundred and thirty-one. The upper part of the 
 temple has within it a modern altar set with nosegays and 
 hung about with pictures ; worthless excepting for the pur- 
 pose for which they were placed there. Readers of ' Childe 
 Harold' will hardly require to be reminded of Lord Byron's 
 description of this interesting old relic and its situation. 
 
 But thou, Clitumnus, in thy sweetest wave 
 Of the most living crystal that was e'er 
 The haunt of river nymph, to gaze and lave 
 Her limbs where nothing hid them, thou dost rear 
 Thy grassy banks whereon the milk-white steer 
 Grazes ; the purest god of gentle waters, 
 And most serene of aspect and most clear ; 
 Surely that stream was unprofaned by slaughters — 
 A mirror and a bath for Beauty's youngest daughters ! 
 
Chap. X. PERUGIA, ASSIST, ETC. 309 
 
 And on thy happy shore a temple still 
 Of small and delicate proportion, keeps 
 Upon a mild declivity of hill 
 Its memory of thee ; beneath it sweeps 
 Thy current's calmness ; oft from out it leaps 
 The finny darter with the glittering scales 
 Who dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps, 
 While chance some scattered water-lily sails 
 Down where the shallower wave still tells its bubbling tales. 
 
 Hard by the temple a mill, turned by the river, greets the 
 ear with its homely sound, near which a weeping-willow 
 dips its pendant branches into the water. 
 
 A little farther its source is reached at a place called 
 Le Vene. It gushes out from the foot of a mountain in 
 several copious springs which, after flowing hither and 
 thither amongst the water-flags and rushes, unite into one 
 stream. The spot is a very beautiful one. On the one 
 side rises a range of lofty hills connected with the Apen- 
 nines : on the other the wide Umbrian valley stretches, 
 laughing with corn, wine, and oil. Far across, another 
 mountain-range bounds the plain, white clouds gathered 
 about its peaks and the sunshine resting there as it did 
 when the milk-white steer was led to the stream to receive 
 its ablutions in preparation for the sacrifice. 
 
 CHURCH AND CONVENT OF ST. FRANCIS AT ASSIST. 
 
3IO THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 
 
 ANOTHER locality connected with the Tiber by a small 
 stream or torrent, is the famous lake and plains of 
 Thrasimene, where the celebrated battle was fought, two 
 hundred and fifty years before the Christian era, in which 
 the Carthaginian general, Hannibal, defeated the Romans 
 so signally : one of the very few occasions upon which the 
 Romans suffered an absolutely disastrous defeat at the 
 hands of their enemies. The lake is now called the Lake of 
 Perugia, from which town it is about sixteen miles distant. 
 The battle occurred during the second Punic war ; after 
 Hannibal had made his memorable and hazardous passage of 
 the Alps, and ravaging the heart of Italy, was marching 
 straight for Rome, when he was met here by the Roman 
 army under the Consul Flaminius. Flaminius had been 
 stationed at Arretium (Arezzo), of which the Carthaginians 
 being aware, they avoided coming in contact with him at 
 that place by taking a more easterly line of march through 
 Faesula (Fiesole), possibly with the object of securing a 
 more advantageous position for an engagement. The 
 Roman consul was at this time awaiting reinforcements 
 under his colleague, Cneius Servilius ; but when he saw 
 the Carthaginians pass him along the plain of Arezzo on 
 their way to Rome and the ravages they were committing 
 with fire and sword — which they took care to render as 
 apparent to him as possible — without regard to the wiser 
 counsel of his officers, he prepared to follow them. 
 
Chap. XL FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 311 
 
 Trending southwards from the plain lying beneath the 
 town of Cortona, a range of considerable hills, called the 
 Gualandro, bends downwards to the Lake of Thrasimene, 
 only allowing a narrow pass between the shores on the one 
 side and the rising ground on the other, thence opening 
 into a wider plain, very much narrowed again at the 
 southern extremity at the little town of Passignano, where 
 the hills once more approach the lake, thus inclosing an 
 irregularly extended semicircular space with the lake on the 
 one side and the hills on the other. The battle has been 
 circumstantially described by the old historians Livy and 
 Polybius. It was fought early in the morning. The 
 heights were occupied by the Carthaginian general with 
 the pick of his Spanish and African troops, the lighter 
 infantry occupying a lower position, whilst the cavalry were 
 disposed about the immediate entrance of the defile. The 
 whole plain was covered with a dense mist which had risen 
 from the iake, effectually veiling the Roman army from a 
 sight of the enemy. It is strange that the Romans should 
 not have taken the precaution to reconnoitre their course 
 previously to entering so dangerous a locality. As it was, 
 they marched straight into the trap. No sooner had the 
 whole army entered the defile than the foe poured upon 
 them with all the advantages of surprise ; the Romans 
 being still more confused from the mist that enveloped 
 them, concealing the position of the enemy and their number. 
 In vain the consul rode hither and thither in the attempt 
 to rally his panic-stricken troops. They were scarcely able 
 to see or hear him. At last the soldiers being hemmed in 
 on every side found their only chance lay in the use of 
 their swords, so that the battle came to be, in a great 
 measure, a personal combat. Some of the companies, 
 indeed, fought so bravely that they perished to a man on 
 the spot where they first stood. What was most re- 
 markable was that an earthquake occurred in the thick of 
 the engagement, which toppled down mountains, overthrew 
 cities and changed the course of rivers, without being so 
 
 y 2 
 
312 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. "Chap. XI. 
 
 much as perceived on either side ; so great was their ardour 
 in fighting. In the midst of the fight Flaminius was seen 
 urging on his troops, when there rode forth a horseman of 
 the enemy covered with blood and dust, crying, " So this is 
 he who is the slayer of our comrades and the devastator 
 of our fields : he also shall be sacrificed to the manes of 
 the dead ! " and riding irresistibly through the ranks 
 which surrounded him, he pierced him mortally through 
 the body with his lance. Upon this the whole army laid 
 down their arms and fled wildly, precipitately, without 
 knowing the direction in which they were going. Some 
 fell on the bodies of the slain and were smothered by 
 others falling on the top of them, some ran indiscriminately 
 on the arms of the enemy, as if seeking their own death, 
 others driven to the edge of the lake were fain to take the 
 water as far as they could walk in it, but were thence 
 pursued by the cavalry and cut to pieces, whilst others 
 swam far from land only to be drowned or to return and 
 meet the fate of their companions. Nearly six thousand of 
 the van of the army had cut their way gallantly through 
 the enemy at an early stage of the engagement, escaping 
 to the southern end of the plain, where they awaited the 
 dispersion of the mist only to see the total defeat of their 
 comrades. Seizing their standards, hastily, they retreated, 
 but being pursued, overcome by famine and fatigue, they 
 were induced to relinquish their arms under promise of 
 safety. "A promise," says Livy, sarcastically, '' kept with 
 Punic fidelity, for they were immediately loaded with 
 chains." Thus ended this great battle. For three fearful 
 hours the work of slaughter proceeded without intermission. 
 The little stream that courses the plain ran blood instead 
 of water, and is known by the name of Sanguinetto, or the 
 Runlet of Blood, to this day. 
 
 In this battle fifteen thousand Romans were slain, and 
 one thousand five hundred of the enemy their conquerors ; 
 many afterwards, on both sides, dying of their wounds. 
 The loss has even been computed as much greater. Han- 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 
 
 313 
 
 nibal had his own soldiers buried upon the field. The 
 body of Flaminius could not be found. 
 
 LAKE THRASIMENE. SITE OF BATTLE. 
 
 The spot and its associations have inspired some of the 
 happiest lines of * Childe Harold.' 
 
 I roam 
 By Thrasimene's lake, in the defiles 
 Fatal to Roman rashness, more at home; 
 For there the Carthaginian's warlike wiles 
 Gome back before me, as his skill beguiles 
 The host between the mountains and the shore, 
 Where Courage falls in her despairing files. 
 And torrents, swoU'n to rivers with their gore. 
 Reek through the sultry plain, with legions scattered o'er. 
 
 Like to a forest fell'd by mountain winds; 
 And such the storm of battle on this day, 
 And such the frenzy, whose convulsion blinds 
 To all save carnage, that, beneath the fray, 
 An earthquake reel'd unheededly away ! 
 
314 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. XI. 
 
 None felt stern Nature rocking at his feet, 
 And yawning fortli a grave for those who lay 
 Upon their bucklers for a winding-sheet; 
 Such is the absorbing hate when warring nations meet ! 
 
 Far other scene is Thrasimene now ; 
 Her lake a sheet of silver, and her plain 
 Rent by no ravage save the gentle plough ; 
 Her aged trees rise thick as once the slain 
 Lay where their roots are ; but a brook hath ta'en — 
 A little rill of scanty stream and bed — 
 A name of blood from that day's sanguine rain ; 
 And Sanguinetto tells ye where the dead 
 Made the earth wet and turn'd the unwilling waters red. 
 
 For the purpose of enjoying the sweet scenery of this 
 charming spot and exploring the old battle-field, I took up 
 my abode at a little inn at Passignano, on the borders of 
 the lake. One afternoon I walked to the small town of 
 Tuoro, which rises from the plain situated on an elevated 
 mound covered with olives, the site of many a fierce struggle 
 on that dreadful day. It was a wretched little town, 
 without drainage, the streets being unpaved and strewn 
 with rubbish, whilst the houses wore the air of falling, 
 completely to decay. In vain I went from alley to alley : 
 the hot hours of a midsummer day had not yet passed : 
 all the inhabitants had betaken themselves to rest ; only a 
 few hungry dogs prowled about the street. At last I found 
 a cobbler at his stall, who took me to a little bettola^ or wine- 
 shop, a dingy little cellar, where a few persons sat gossiping 
 in the cool, whilst enjoying the refreshing draught of some 
 thin wine. , I entered into conversation with an intelligent- 
 looking man of the group. Hearing my errand, he proffered 
 to take me to the top of the bell-tower of the church, which 
 commanded the whole plain and to point out to me the 
 various supposed sites of the battle and probable manoeu- 
 vrings ; as he had learned them from a military man whom 
 he had accompanied on a special survey of the ground. 
 Indeed, the whole position was clearly to be seen — what 
 infinite advantages would be gained by the first occupier of 
 the spot, and how any attempt to take it would be fraught 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 315 
 
 with the greatest difficulty. As we returned, he complained 
 bitterly of the poverty of the district, and spoke of a project 
 for draining the lake from which the miserable population 
 hoped to reap much advantage. 
 
 Although the scenery about the Lake of Thrasimene 
 is by no means the finest in Italy, yet there is something 
 in the broad sheet of water, spotted with its lovely islands 
 and the low-flowing mountain lines, by which it is sur- 
 rounded, which fills the mind with soothing impressions ; 
 sometimes the prospect from the heights expanding before 
 the eye in pictures of exquisite loveliness. The poverty of 
 the district gives it a still more pathetic interest. The lake 
 has very little fish in it, and the hilly district being none of 
 the richest, the fruits of the earth are dearly won by the 
 hardest toil. One evening, as I roamed the uplands, I met a 
 bronze-faced lad of fourteen. There was a look of intelligence 
 through his rusticity which caused me to enter into conversa- 
 tion with him. He told me he was a farm-labourer ; and in 
 answer to my questions as to his earnings, said that he 
 was paid in kind, and never received money as wages. I 
 said, I supposed then that he was paid pretty generously. 
 " On the contrary," he said, " we receive barely enough for 
 a subsistence, and as we have to take our produce to market 
 we sometimes obtain very little for it — scarcely enough to 
 give us the necessaries of life." All this was conveyed to 
 me with a quiet self-possession of manner and that innate 
 air of breeding which distinguishes even the peasant classes 
 in many parts of Italy. With all his poverty he seemed 
 cheerful and happy ; and when I gave him a trifle at part- 
 ing he looked pleased and surprised, and went on his way 
 with the contentment of a prince. 
 
 Once more prosecuting our onward journey from Perugia 
 we had thence a welcome addition to our little party in a 
 congenial artist friend, Mr. E, Vedder. We started at an 
 early hour of a brilliant morning, by the public diligence — a 
 mode of travelling, which in Italy always offers quaint points 
 of interest and specialities of character met with in no other 
 
3i6 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 way. Commencing the descent of the hill upon which the 
 town is built, our road at first lay between groves of olives 
 and well-cultivated slopes ; but presently a most glorious 
 panorama opened itself before us. In the midst of a very 
 lovely valley, in which the soft lines of the hills were 
 gradually lost, the river was seen embowered in luxu- 
 riant foliage, patches of the clear blue of the sky mir- 
 rored between the sharply-defined reflections of its banks. 
 Across the stream a delicately-curved bridge was thrown, 
 looking almost too frail to support itself The effect was 
 quite magical : the thin veil of the morning giving an ap- 
 pearance of intangibility to the prospect, as if it would 
 vanish with a breath. The scene was infinitely varied ; 
 verdure of all shades and tints, nodding groves, towered 
 heights, swelling hills spotted with villas and farms ; then, 
 nearest the river, low-lying groups of houses were clustered 
 as if out of love for the meandering stream that wandered 
 hither and thither until it was lost to the sight. After a 
 while the hills subsided in gentler slopes. The banks of the 
 river were diversified with straggling poplars surrounded 
 with pastoral groves of grey old oaks, whose large boles 
 rose from a carpet of emerald grass upon which the shadows 
 stretched as if in shelter from the heat of the sun, which 
 now began to burn down fiercely from the sky. On the 
 other side of the stream well-wooded hills arose ; here and 
 there a white homestead peeping from the foliage, or 
 a lofty castle in grey blank ruin, the centre of many a 
 mediaeval struggle and feudal quarrel. 
 
 Long before the sun had reached the zenith we arrived 
 at the little town of Fratta, where we stopped both to 
 explore the district and to exercise our pencils in recording 
 a very characteristic passage of the river. Fratta is now 
 generally called Umbertidi ; as there are no fewer than 
 three other towns in Umbria bearing the former name. 
 Just outside of the town we found a cheerful and pleasant 
 little inn that promised well for a cleanly and comfortable 
 domicile. On signifying our desire for some refreshment 
 
Chap. XL FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 317 
 
 the table was presently spread in an abundant, if not 
 sumptuous manner ; our repast numbering amongst its 
 dainties the luxury of caviare in addition to the several 
 other appetizers which usually form a part of an Italian 
 meal. 
 
 Unlike most of the towns in this part of Italy, Fratta, 
 instead of being placed on a height, stands upon the level 
 bank of the river, which is here crossed by a wide stone 
 bridge. It contains an old moated castle, now shorn of 
 its terrors and gradually falling to decay. There is 
 something exceedingly charming about the neighbourhood 
 of this old-fashioned town. Shady lanes and pleasant 
 field paths accompany the course of the river, bordered 
 with black-branched willows and scented poplar shrubs. 
 Without being absolutely romantic, the banks of the stream 
 offer exquisite passages of soft characteristic beauty — ^just 
 the thing to satisfy and delight the artist's quieter and 
 tenderer moods. 
 
 Fratta was founded by the miserable remnants of the 
 Roman army defeated at Thrasimene. It had the usual 
 mediaeval vicissitudes of pillage and burning. Fortebraccio 
 once made a raid upon its territory, as Campano relates in 
 his biography. He says, '' That after having sacked many 
 places of the country, he moved his camp alongside of the 
 Tiber, not far from Fratta, to the district held by Perugia, 
 and commenced to make it his prey. As the country 
 people had no suspicion whatever of his intention — having 
 driven their cattle to pasture and set themselves to work 
 in the fields — he "took a great number of the peasantry, 
 together with their flocks and herds. The Perugian 
 soldiers who were in the district, under the command of 
 Ceccholino forced him to the combat ; but being repulsed at 
 the first encounter, he lost some of his cavalry, and flying at 
 full speed, sheltered himself on a neighbouring hill. Braccio, 
 having ravaged the banks of the river, went with his army 
 to the bridge of Pattolo. In the meanwhile, Ceccholino, 
 having drawn some soldiers from a village near, galloped 
 
3i8 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 off to Perugia." This was in order to prevent the further 
 progress of the enemy : but Braccio, after having devastated 
 the country about Fratta, retired to Todi, rewarding his 
 soldiers with the spoil they had taken. 
 
 In all these raids and warfares the country people appear 
 to have been the first and worst sufferers. At any moment 
 liable to have their crops destroyed, their cattle stolen, 
 their homes ruined and burned, their families outraged or 
 slain, nothing could have been more insecure than the 
 peasant life of that time. Their feudal lords might defend 
 their castles or escape from them ; there was no defence or 
 escape for their retainers. Compelled at any hour to take 
 arms on behalf of their territorial governor, or to prosecute 
 his quarrels, their domestic peace was destroyed, their 
 honest gains lost, their occupations suspended in these 
 brawls and feuds, out of which they were sure to come 
 sufferers. So that in looking back, we must confess that 
 the poorest rustic toiler of to-day is in a position of ease and 
 comfort compared with the insecurity of the peasants' con- 
 dition in these turbulent ages. 
 
 From Fratta the river traverses a plain between low- 
 lying hills — a pleasant and cheerful country. As we passed 
 along the road, peaceful rustic labours were being followed 
 everywhere. The housewife sang at the door of her cottage, 
 the ploughman called to his oxen, the thresher swung his 
 slow flail, women stood up to their knees in the river washing 
 clothes and chatting merrily. Bathers came down to the 
 deeper pools and plunged into its waters, little children 
 dabbled on its banks, and hissing geese stalked about in 
 straggling rows. The river here becomes narrowed to a 
 small stream, the additions made by its tributaries being 
 in a great measure lost in the course of a few miles along its 
 hot pebbly bed. A little before reaching Citta di Castello, 
 the sloping banks were covered with groves of oak, amongst 
 which the blue morning mist still lingered ; the hills being 
 broken into conical summits, surmounted here and there 
 with a white church or glittering homestead. 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 319 
 
 It was high noon as we entered Citta di Castello. Every 
 blind and door was closed to the sun. As we rattled 
 along the dazzling white pavement not a soul was visible, 
 not even a dog. It was like a city of the dead. By the 
 deserted loggias long green vine-sprays dangled in the sun. 
 Grass grew in the streets. In the heart of a large town we 
 were in perfect solitude. 
 
 We took up our abode at the Cannoniera, once a palace 
 of the Vitelli, an historic family, governing the place in 
 the fifteenth century, noticeable also as amongst the first 
 patrons of the painter Raphael. Curiously enough, in many 
 of these towns removed from the beat of ordinary travellers 
 we found ourselves better off in regard to accommodation 
 than in most of those situated nearer to Rome. 
 
 No sooner was our arrival noised about the town' than 
 all the vendors of curiosities and refuse lumber of any time 
 since the Middle Ages poured upon us like birds of prey 
 on their victim. Every one who had a piece of canvas that 
 had once been a picture immediately brought it out. I am 
 afraid I was very disrespectful to these antique treasures ; 
 but v., who hoped to find something good amongst them, 
 was deluged with demands upon his attention. Many 
 a time I was stopped in the street with the inducement 
 of a great name to inspect some undiscovered gem of 
 art. Unfortunately, I had had too much experience in 
 these researches to be led aside by them. I knew the 
 cracked and chipped remains of the almond-eyed Madonna, 
 with the plethoric infant in her lap, before I had seen her ; 
 the tattered and soiled fragments of tapestry, and broken 
 bits of earthenware were not unfamiliar to me ; the bag of 
 obliterated coins was an easy acquaintance ; the rusty nails, 
 buckles, lamps, arrow-heads, snuff-boxes, surviving disloca- 
 tions of worn-out tables and chairs, I was perfectly well 
 acquainted with : so I referred them all to V. as a com- 
 pratore (or buyer), who did not seem to succeed very well 
 in convincing the people that everything which was decayed, 
 worm-eaten, and unsightly, was not necessarily valuable. 
 
320 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 Citta di Castellowas the ancient Tifernum. The younger 
 Pliny had a villa near, which he- describes very circum- 
 stantially in a letter to his friend Apollinaris. It had a 
 fitness of situation here, as he held the office of conservator 
 of the river and surveyor of its banks. No appliance of 
 art appears to have been wanting to have made it one 
 of the most delightful and elegant of retreats. It had 
 numerous rooms and extensive pleasure-grounds, with box 
 and other trees clipped into fantastic forms. Here he used 
 to spend the summer season in retired and learned leisure. 
 Sometimes he engaged in field sports ; but when he did so 
 he used to take his tablets for writing with him, so that, as 
 he says, in case the game was not plentiful, he might at 
 least come home with something. He tells his friend that 
 he sometimes supped by the side of a fine polished marble 
 basin so artfully contrived that it was always full without 
 overfliowing, the surface of the water serving as a table, 
 the larger dishes being placed round the margin, and the 
 smaller ones floating about in the form of little vessels and 
 waterfowl. He thus describes the situation of the villa. 
 " Though the country abounds with great plenty of water, 
 there are no marshes ; for, as it lies upon a rising ground, 
 whatever water it receives without absorbing, runs off into 
 the Tiber. This river, which winds through the middle of 
 the meadows, is navigable only in the winter and spring, at 
 which season it transports the produce of the lands to 
 Rome ; but its channel is so extremely low in the summer, 
 that it scarcely deserves the name of a river ; towards the 
 autumn, however, it begins again to renew its claim to that 
 title. You could not be more agreeably entertained, than 
 by taking a view of the face of this country from the top 
 of one of our neighbouring mountains. You would suppose 
 that not a real but some imaginary landscape, painted by 
 the most exquisite pencil, lay before you : such a har- 
 monious variety of objects meets the eye, which way 
 soever it turns." 
 
 The poHtical position of Citta di Castello in the Middle 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 321 
 
 Ages was similar to that of most of the other Italian cities 
 at that time ; that is to say, it was under the feudal rule 
 introduced by the Goths and other European nations at 
 the destruction of the Roman empire — a military system 
 in which the soldier who distinguished himself received 
 a territory as the reward of his bravery or success, over 
 which he was the recognised ruler, having the power to call 
 out the people at any time on military service. These 
 feuds or lordships were all subject to the higher authority 
 of the sovereign, whose cattanei, or captains, were scattered 
 throughout their several dominions for military and po- 
 litical ends. Of course this state of things gave rise to 
 endless abuses and constantly recurring warfare, producing 
 frequent subversions of one rule to another, in which the 
 mere adventurer sometimes came in for the best share. In 
 the twelfth century, a better system of things partially 
 prevailed in the revival, to some extent, of civil rule, in 
 the advocacy and furtherance of which the noble-minded 
 Arnold of Brescia perished a martyr. The various cities 
 attempted to put down the power of their military rulers 
 or tyrants, and reduce them to the condition, of civilians. 
 Hereupon the divisions of interest and ambition were set 
 the one against the other ; leagues being frequently entered 
 into and almost as frequently broken. Not only were 
 there wars between neighbouring cities and territories, but 
 within the walls of the same city discord reigned, through 
 the domineering of the great and powerful wishing to 
 reduce the people to their rule : sometimes two or three 
 factions contending for supremacy with each other and 
 against the citizens ; though the latter, often enough; took 
 part with one or the other side. Neither were the head 
 governments better off. Embroiled amongst themselves, 
 they had little time to give to individual rights and wrongs. 
 Bitterness and animosity prevailed everywhere , so that, as 
 Borghini said, ''Blind Italy divided against itself, con- 
 suming itself with its own strength, would destroy the 
 beautiful garden of the world." It was this state of things 
 
322 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XL 
 
 that makes the Italian history of this period the most 
 intricate and perplexing of that of all Europe ; its endless 
 vicissitudes and revolutions being almost impossible to 
 follow. 
 
 In the latter half of the fifteenth century Nicolo Vitelli 
 contested possession of the city with the pope, who was 
 represented by the warlike cardinal, Giuliano della Rovere. 
 Niccolo, though at first defeated, afterwards entered the 
 city, and was permitted to remain there as ruler on swear- 
 ing fidelity to the pope. The Vitelli thenceforward be- 
 came principals of the city, retaining their position for long 
 afterwards. 
 
 The old chronicles of the city afford some curious 
 pictures of mediaeval life. One of these gives a singular 
 instance of an antique custom transmitted to more modern 
 times. It happened in the year sixteen hundred and 
 thirty-two, that a woman of Anastasia, in Valle Urbana, 
 had a carbuncle on her chin, which increased so rapidly as 
 to cause suspicion that it might be a plague-spot. Without 
 having recourse to any other aid, she vowed to St. Florido, 
 the patron saint of the city, that she would go to his 
 sepulchre and miraculous image, and suspend there the 
 clothing she wore ; and so she was healed : thus precisely 
 following the ancient custom of suspending the garments 
 in the temple of a god after extreme danger, as of ship- 
 wreck. As Horace mockingly says after his emancipation 
 from the charms of the wily Pyrrha — 
 
 Me in my vow'd 
 Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung 
 My dank and dropping weeds 
 To the stern god of sea.* 
 
 Possibly, also, in the case just mentioned, a pictured or 
 
 * Me tabula sacer 
 Votiva paries indicat uvida 
 Suspendisse potenti 
 Vestimenta maris deo. 
 
 Carm. I. v. 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 323 
 
 written tablet would commemorate the fact ; thus making 
 the resemblance to the ancient custom still more complete. 
 
 A curious entry in the town chronicles under the eleventh 
 of March, fifteen hundred and nine, states that the bishop 
 confirmed the regulations in regard to women's clothing 
 and funerals, disregard of which was to be punished by 
 excommunication. The regulation was prescribed by the 
 council. Every woman was compelled to be dressed ac- 
 cording to the amount of dowry she possessed. Those 
 having a hundred and ten florins, or anything less, only 
 being allowed to have one gala dress, which was to 
 consist of brocade velvet, with a plain skirt of crimson 
 joined on to purple. To the peasants cloth of grain was 
 only allowed for trimming, not for dress ; to these also was 
 forbidden the use of either gold or silver money. For 
 funerals, six florins were allowed for wax candles to doctors 
 and officials of the pope ; to all others not more than three 
 florins. By a special brief of Julius the second, the Vitelli 
 and some others in office were exempted from this regula- 
 tion. Still more curious are the sumptuary laws of fifteen 
 hundred and sixty-one ; the council prescribing not only 
 the dress of the people, but what should be eaten and 
 drunk. Jewels were prohibited, as well as gold and silver 
 in clothing or adornment, a little being conceded to wives 
 of forty, and brides of the first three years. On occasions 
 of baptisms, weddings, or initiation into the monastic life, 
 the viands were to consist of no more than three courses. 
 These regulations were confirmed by a bull of Pius the* 
 Fourth. 
 
 The description of the taking of the city as given by 
 Campano, the biographer of Braccio Fortebraccio, is a very 
 stirring incident. He says that Braccio came to Citta di 
 Castello " and encamping not far from the walls gave the 
 inhabitants to understand by a trumpeter, that if they did 
 not surrender themselves to him he proclaimed war against 
 them. The minds of the Casteilani were filled with fear at 
 the arrival of Braccio, as in the case of sudden war happens 
 
324 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 to every man, however brave he may be. The banished 
 from the city, of whom there were many in the camp of 
 Braccio, greatly augmented the fear ; for the Castellani 
 had not a sufficient force to defend the city, and they 
 saw it was of no use to ask succour of the pope, seeing 
 that he had ceded authority to Braccio ; but if they 
 should surrender themselves, the banished persons, who for 
 a long time had followed the field, would make themselves 
 masters of the city. On the other hand should they oppose 
 themselves to those who pretended to have a right over 
 them, they saw clearly that they would have to suffer all 
 the greatest evils that can come of siege, famine, and the 
 arms of the enemy." 
 
 In this difficulty the Castellani, who had already begun to 
 be disturbed by civil discords, sent ambassadors to Braccio 
 to sue for terms of peace ; but the sole conditions upon which 
 he would treat with them were that they should give up 
 their city entirely to his rule, upon which he promised, that 
 he would not only forbear to interfere with their property 
 and claims as citizens, but that he would identify their own 
 rights and interests with his own. Whilst the Castellani 
 were deliberating upon these proposals with much difference 
 of opinion, the season of harvest was fast passing, all labour 
 being quite suspended, thus threatening them with famine 
 in case of siege. At last they attempted to purchase an 
 immunity from their enemy by offering him the tribute or 
 subsidy of five thousand ducats the year, on condition that 
 he would leave them their freedom. To this offer they 
 joined the most earnest entreaties, submitting that their 
 friendship would be of more value than their servitude, and 
 that though this payment would be made with the greatest 
 difficulty they would rather suffer it than lose the name of 
 liberty which they had so long held dear. Braccio, know- 
 ing that the besieged must soon begin to feel the pangs of 
 famine and that they had little hope of foreign help, refused 
 their money, designating their former submission to the 
 papal rule as neither more nor less than a servitude already 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE, 325 
 
 suffered, adding much more which was rather in accordance 
 with his wishes than to their satisfaction. 
 
 When the Castellani found that their embassy had suc- 
 ceeded so unsatisfactorily they came to the conclusion to 
 hold on the siege whatever might be the result ; Braccio in 
 the meanwhile fortifying his position and giving out that 
 whoever issued from the gates should be taken prisoner. 
 At this juncture the soldiers of Braccio began to cut down 
 the olives and destroy the vineyards in the neighbourhood 
 of the city ; burning the villages, sacking the houses, and 
 devastating the whole country. But the Castellani gave 
 themselves every hour with more diligence to maintain the 
 garrison, storing the walls, towers, and other places with 
 stones and arms for their defence, and though not without 
 grave fears as to the result, they appeared to make light 
 of it before the enemy. When Braccio saw this he sent 
 to Perugia for more soldiers and five pieces of artillery. 
 Between citizens and peasants the Castellani numbered five 
 thousand infantry, some of them bowmen, but the greater 
 portion, clad in breastplates and bearing shields, were 
 formidable from the various weapons they bore, of which 
 their many civil strifes had taught them the skilful use. The 
 arrival of the troops from Perugia added more to the fears 
 of the besieged than to the hopes of Braccio, who was 
 unwilliiig to risk the flower of his army on the doubtful 
 issue of a dangerous siege : these Perugians being accus- 
 tomed, as the historian says, to running, jumping, and the 
 use and management of horses, almost as soon as they 
 were born ; they were also in the habit of fighting frequent 
 duels, and even in times of peace were well practised in the 
 use of arms and the government of war. Their very 
 bravery or temerity, even, was an embarrassment to Braccio, 
 who had to restrain them from the almost certain sacrifice 
 of their lives to their daring. The desire, however, not to 
 lose the opportunity of gaining possession of the city at 
 last overbore other considerations, so that he was finally 
 induced to make an attack upon it. For this purpose he 
 
 Z 
 
326 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 caused an immense machine of wood in the form of a 
 testudo to be raised to as great a height as possible, and 
 having filled it with veteran soldiers caused it to be drawn 
 to the walls in the vicinity of the tower which stood above 
 the gate of the city. He also drew up two pieces of 
 artillery in front of the tower, placing wings of crossbowmen 
 on either side for the assault ; Peruglan infantry being 
 distributed about the fortifications with ladders, having 
 orders to be prepared to scale the walls and enter the city 
 whilst the Castellani were occupied in defending the tower. 
 No sooner had the attack commenced than the Castellani 
 on the walls, dismayed at the number of the enemy and 
 their formidable appearance, began to deplore their ill- 
 fortune, as if the city had been already taken. The panic 
 quickly spread itself, so that presently, instead of defending 
 the city, every one was seeking safety in flight and conceal- 
 ment. The gates were opened, some of the principal 
 persons being delivered up as hostages to the conqueror. 
 
 Leaving Citta di Castello, the river traverses a vast plain 
 with sloping hills on the left, crowned with several picturesque 
 towns and mediaeval fortresses. This plain is very fertile 
 and well-cultivated. Long rows of young maple or elm 
 ("amicta vitibus ulmo") support festoons of enwreathing 
 vines. Here and there shady lanes run underneath the 
 boughs of umbrageous oaks which throw down deep black 
 shadows in the glaring sunshine. At the foot of the hills 
 to the left the river runs, a small stream in its white dusty 
 bed. Presently we came to a little village called San 
 Giustino, where the driver, wishing to regale his horses, 
 advised us to stop an hour, which, he told us, might be 
 pleasantly occupied in looking over an old mediaeval castle 
 which had been adapted as a modern residence. We had 
 no reason to regret this arrangement, as the old place was 
 exceedingly interesting. The castle consisted of sturdy 
 walls surmounted by towered battlements, surrounded by 
 a dried-up moat. Along one side a very gracefully con- 
 structed open gallery passed with arches supported on 
 
Chap. XL FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 327 
 
 elegantly-shaped columns. A lofty clock-tower commanded 
 splendid views of the whole valley, with its varied culture 
 and sparkling villages half embosomed in trees or perched 
 on the mountain heights. The castle was surrounded 
 with quaint gardens, containing an abundance of lemon 
 trees with their golden fruit glowing amongst the rich 
 green leaves. Laurel avenues impervious to the sun, and 
 long alleys of fantastically-clipped box carried the mind back 
 to the times of hoop and patch and further still. ' A maze 
 of thick close hedges, in which the gardener in vain tried 
 to cause us to lose ourselves, thanks to V.'s talent for 
 geography, whom I took care to follow closely, completed 
 the old-world fashion of the place. The interior of this 
 enchanted abode did not contain much more than some very 
 fine mural decorations and a few good family portraits, as 
 the owner, it appeared, seldom or never resided there. For 
 the' rest, a great proportion of the rooms was entirely 
 occupied by silkworms. Ample sheets were hung up, upon 
 which were deposited myriads of variously-tinted eggs. 
 Large frames were also placed about containing trays or 
 shelves, upon which were numberless moths just emerged 
 from the cocoon or worms spinning themselves into it. The 
 whole place, indeed, was peopled with these little crea- 
 tures, doubtless a source of considerable revenue to their 
 owner. 
 
 Following the road from this place we were struck with 
 the number of wayside shrines and black crosses to which 
 were nailed the symbols of the passion of our Lord, as the 
 nails, spear, sponge, etc., doubtless the relics of the time 
 when the road was traversed by pilgrims to the holy 
 sepulchre. Presently we entered the arched gateway of 
 Borgo San Sepolcro. 
 
 Borgo San Sepolcro is a quaint little town surrounded 
 by walls with bastions at the angles. It had a very curious 
 origin. There was once a rocky mound here which stood 
 in the midst of a vast forest, upon which the snow lay so 
 thick and long that it was named Nevia. Here some 
 
 z 2 
 
328 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 pilgrims from the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem in the tenth 
 century, wearied with much journeying- stopped to repose ; 
 and as they slept by a fountain they received a divine 
 command in a dream to build a church on the spot. Ac- 
 cordingly gathering together what they could, they formed 
 a little chapel, in which they deposited the relics they had 
 brought with them from the Holy Land. To this place 
 the people of the surrounding country resorted for purposes 
 of devotion, and from time to time built houses there, which 
 at last formed a town, taking its name from the circum- 
 stances that had given it birth. The Calmaldolese monks 
 afterwards founded an abbey there, owning a great part of 
 the territory ; but the inhabitants shook off their dependence 
 in the thirteenth century, and torn by factions, joined the 
 Aretini. Their town passed subsequently under the rule of 
 the bishops of Arezzo, the Visconti, and Fortebraccio, by 
 whom it was given to the pope, and finally became subject 
 to that of Florence. 
 
 One of the chief attractions of Borgo is its numerous 
 and beautiful works of art. It was the birthplace of Pietro 
 della Francesca, and .contains some of his finest paintings. 
 Pietro was a remarkable man in more respects than one. 
 Vasari says he was the first geometrician of his time. He 
 wrote many books. At the age of sixty, twenty-six years 
 before he died, he became blind. We may imagine what a 
 loss his sight must have been to him. His works are of 
 the very noblest order. There is an unaffected tenderness 
 and sweetness in his angels and female figures not even 
 reached by Pietro Perugino ; their loveliness is that of 
 innocence and youth ; they can be scarcely called abstrac- 
 tions, and yet one hardly knows where to match their 
 flower-like grace and sweet spiritual bearing in the world 
 of fact. His finest work is in the Monte di Pieta. It is a 
 fresco of the Resurrection. The Saviour leaves the tomb 
 bearing a banner of victory. It is impressive from its 
 I vigour of treatment and intense originality both in con- 
 ception and execution. It is also painted in a fine key of 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 329 
 
 colour peculiarly its own. Altogether it gives a perfectly 
 new impression of an over-familiar subject in art. 
 
 As we strolled about in the evening we came upon the 
 pallone ground, just outside and against the walls of the 
 city. As this is the national game of Italy, it may be 
 worth while to describe it for those who have not seen it. 
 
 It is played upon a ground measuring about two hundred 
 and fifty feet in length, and about sixty wide : always with 
 a high wall on one side. The players are three at a side. 
 They generally wear a thin close-fitting garment. On 
 their right hand a large oval covering of wood is fixed 
 endwise, which is grooved into raised squares diminishing 
 upwards. The balls are of hide, well oiled. They are 
 hollow, being filled by an air-pump, when in use, and 
 closed by a valve. The player about to strike the ball in 
 the first instance stands at the top of an inclined plank, 
 opposite to the deliverer of the ball, who faces him at some 
 yards distance. The striker then runs down the plank, at 
 the same time the bowler makes a few steps forward, 
 delivering the ball at the right moment, which, being struck, 
 gains great impetus, flying the whole length of the ground. 
 It is then to be kept up within assigned limits from one 
 side to the other as long as possible. It is a game of very 
 considerable excitement ; the animation being sometimes 
 increased by the ball flying amongst the spectators, whose 
 ducking and running do not always prevent them from 
 receiving an ugly blow. 
 
 As we followed our evening walk by the border of the 
 fields, V. and I were much amused by the roundabout way / 
 a man bestowed maledictions upon a refractory pig which 
 of course would go every way but the one desired. After 
 vainly attempting to drive it in the direction he wished, the 
 man sat down wiping his forehead, exclaiming with great 
 vehemence, Accidente a chi ti voglia be^ie ! (May an apoplexy 
 seize him who washes you well !) A form of adjuration in- 
 tended to convey unutterable things to the swine, whose mere 
 friend and well-wisher w^as to suffer so terrible a misfortune. 
 
330 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI 
 
 From Borgo San Sepolcro the river flows through scenery 
 of the same character as before : grey villages on the cliffs, 
 old castles occupying the heights. As we passed along 
 the road the landscape was enlivened by bands of happy 
 girls reaping in the fields, protected from the sun by broad- 
 brimmed straw hats. Presently the prospect opened into a 
 level plain in which the bed of the river was expanded into 
 the form of the lake, but not a drop of water was visible. 
 When we reached this spot I heard a suppressed chuckling 
 in the interior of the carriage (I was sitting with the driver) 
 which presently exploded into peals of derisive laughter. 
 It appeared B. and the others had been watching their op- 
 portunity for a joke until the little feeble stream which had 
 hitherto occupied the bed of the river should vanish alto- 
 gether; at last it came. "Where is the venerable old man 
 seated amongst the sedges," they asked, tauntingly, "with 
 the water-pot discharging copious streams, which you pro- 
 mised to show us } Where are the nymphs, naiades, and 
 other inhabitants of the sacred flood T On my explaining 
 the cause of their merriment to the driver, however, he 
 reassured me. '' Non abbia patera, signore" said he, ''fra 
 poco la ritrovererno " — Never fear, sir, we shall find it again 
 presently — adding that the scanty stream had been diverted 
 temporarily from its proper course for the purpose of 
 turning some mills, and sure enough we shortly came on 
 it again, though in no great quantity. 
 
 A few miles beyond, the river passes through a deep 
 artificial cutting, made with much labour in eighteen hun- 
 dred and fifty-five, when an enormous landslip choked up 
 the bed of the stream, which immediately rose in conse- 
 quence to so great a height that the inhabitants had to 
 flee the neighbouring little town of Pieve San Stefano, 
 which remained a long time under water with all the 
 adjacent country. Now the signs of the misfortune are no 
 longer seen, but a bit of white marble let into the wall of 
 the church near the roof shows how severe and disastrous 
 it must have been. 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 331 
 
 Pieve San Stefano Is a homely little town running along 
 the river, in a fertile country, deriving its chief support from 
 corn and grain. The day of our arrival was a market day, 
 so that the little place was full of business and animation. 
 The country people had assembled from all the surround- 
 ing districts, the women wearing broad-brimmed Tuscan 
 hats and the young rustic gallants tricked out in their best. 
 Many a little romantic gossip did we observe going on 
 between the young girls and their sweethearts, or would be 
 sweethearts, whilst their mothers and fathers were occupied 
 in cheapening purchases or vending their wares — not as 
 Englishmen buy and sell, but with infinite gesticulation 
 and a storm of talk. Perhaps the only opportunity for 
 lovers to meet each other who live widely apart may be on 
 such occasions as these, when acquaintances are formed, 
 and for the most part prosecuted. This is the last town 
 situated on the Tiber, or the first from its source. Thence- 
 forward for leagues all is mountainous desolation or hardly- 
 won culture ; the scattered groups of houses found here and 
 there on its course scarcely deserving the name of villages. 
 
 Numerous ravines run from the river here amongst the 
 mountains, each with its half hidden rillet at the bottom, 
 clear and unstained as a naiad's mirror. In the evening 
 V. and I explored one of these little streams, sketch-book 7^ 
 in hand, through all its crinkly bays and miniature falls, a 
 tiny tributary to the waters of Old Father Tiber. 
 
 We had here reached the last stage but one of our 
 journey. Pieve San Stefano is but about twenty miles 
 from the source of the Tiber. We engaged the services of 
 the son of the landlord of the little inn at which we were 
 stopping — which, by the way, was an excellent one in a 
 simple rural fashion — as organiser of the expedition ; and 
 we had reason to congratulate ourselves in having done so ; 
 for Tomaso, besides being a cheerful, well-looking, fine- 
 spirited fellow, knew all the country round to the extent of 
 at least a day's journey. As the whole way lay entirely 
 amongst the Apennines, and was of the most rugged 
 
332 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER, Chap. XI. 
 
 description, without roads, and, in some places, scarcely 
 the semblance of a path, the only mode of accomplishing 
 the journey was either on foot or on the backs of asses. 
 Engaging a number of these, we started before daylight. 
 As we did so my own mind was filled with the anticipations 
 of an object accomplished which had long been present 
 with me. I realised the feelings of a pilgrim when all the 
 interests, hopes, and sentiments that have accompanied his 
 journey crowd upon his soul in the nearness of the goal of 
 his wishes. The mountains seemed to gain a large restful 
 calm in the glimmering of the dawn, and the heavens to 
 smile down in more serious peacefulness, at a purpose well- 
 nigh fulfilled ; for thus we clothe the appearances of nature 
 with our own moods, and claim her aspects as significant ot 
 our own feelings ; perhaps they are so. 
 
 Instead of following the upward course of the stream 
 Tomaso proposed that we should go a more circuitous route 
 amongst the mountains, and then trace it downwards to 
 the place we had left in the morning, as the road by the 
 immediate banks of the river was so abrupt and broken 
 that it would be much more difficult to traverse in this 
 direction. To this there could be no reasonable objection. 
 The ride (or walk ; for it was as much the one as the other) 
 was a most enchanting one. The vast mountains were 
 everywhere around us. Sometimes opening into wide 
 valleys, sometimes closing into narrow gorges ; sometimes 
 our road lay along the craggy back of a desolate hill-top, 
 then it would dive into the shadowy recesses of a sombre 
 wood. When the sun had well risen, hot and bright, we arrived 
 at a little mountain farmhouse, with goats browsing about, 
 at the door of which was suspended a leavy branch, the old- 
 fashioned " bush " that indicates the sale of wine. I pro- 
 posed that we should stop a few moments and refresh 
 ourselves, which we did ; a most extravagant charge being 
 demanded for the same. As we again pursued our way, 
 Tomaso came to me mysteriously, saying that he had been 
 told, at the place we had just left, that two malviventi 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 333 
 
 (brigands) had been there the previous day, and that 
 there was a band of thirteen lurking in the forest into 
 which we had to penetrate to find the source of the 
 river. This was not very cheering ; for although we 
 were not without arms, even if we should be able to use 
 them, they might not avail against such odds. Presently 
 we gained a lofty ridge overlooking a vast valley or basin 
 surrounded with rocks tumbled about in the wildest 
 confusion. It was bounded on the one side by a vast 
 range of mountain called Le Baize, the greater part of it 
 covered with a dense forest in which was to be found the 
 object of our journey. At the foot of this mountain was a 
 church and a group of a few rude houses, dignified with the 
 name borne by the mountain. Hither Tomaso escorted us. 
 It was about the hour of noon. We were soon surrounded by 
 every man, woman, and child in the place. Hot, wearied, 
 and dusty, as we all were, my friends, not unreasonably, 
 resigned themselves to the prospect of a good rest and a 
 refreshing meal ; their astonishment being great when I 
 proposed to set off immediately in search of the object of 
 our pilgrimage. In vain I argued and enforced, until at 
 last I was obliged to confess that as Tomaso had been told 
 that there was a band of brigands in the woods, I did not 
 consider it prudent to remain long enough for it to be 
 noised abroad that four Englishmen were about to enter 
 their precincts, but that if we went immediately there was 
 less danger of being molested, as we heard that they were 
 at some distance from the spot where we were wishing to go, 
 lying in wait for a landowner of the district. This being 
 confirmed by the people of the place, my friends all agreed 
 that, tired and heated as we were, it would be better to go 
 at once. 
 
 Accordingly an old man undertook to be our guide. By 
 the side of the little stream which here constitutes the first 
 vein of the Tiber, we penetrated the wood. It was an 
 immense beech-forest, perhaps some part of it virgin to the 
 tread of man. The trees were almost all great gnarled 
 
334 ^^HE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XL 
 
 veterans, which had borne the snows of many winters : now 
 they stood basking above their blackened shadows in the 
 blazing sunshine. The little stream tumbled from ledge to 
 ledge of splintered rock (here a limestone in which small 
 nummulites and other organic remains are visible) some- 
 times creeping into a hazel thicket green with long ferns 
 and soft moss, and then leaping once more merrily into the 
 sunlight. Presently it split into numerous little rills. We 
 followed the longest of these. It led us to a carpet of 
 smooth green turf amidst an opening of the trees ; and 
 there, bubbling out of the green sod, embroidered witli 
 white strawberry blossoms, the delicate blue of the cranes- 
 bill and dwarf willow herb, a copious little stream arose. 
 Here the old man paused, and resting upon his staff, raised 
 his age-dimmed eyes, and pointing to the gushing water, 
 said, " E qiiesto si chiama il Tevere a Roma f (And this 
 is called the Tiber at Rome.) My mind was filled with 
 emotion. The baby river ! It was like being present at 
 the birth of one who should alter and control the destiny of 
 the world. It was as if all the incidents of the long journey 
 were focussed at this point. The whole history and asso- 
 ciations of the stream arose within me with a crushing 
 sensation of overpowering vastness, from the first settle- 
 ment founded on its banks, through the grandeur of the 
 lordly Rome of Augustus, to the modern ecclesiastical city. 
 I thought of the many lives that had been lived out on its 
 banks, and the many battles that had been fought there. 
 I thought of the lands it passed through : the low-lying 
 marshes of Ostia, the solemn undulating Campagna, the 
 sunny mountains and valleys of Umbria, the spreading 
 fields of corn, vine, and olive, the towering cities, the quiet 
 homesteads, the rocky nooks and fastnesses in its course, 
 and the mighty influence the denizens of its shores had had 
 in the history of mankind and civilisation. All were brought 
 before me, as drowning men are said to see the whole course 
 of their lives at an instant. We stooped and drank of the 
 cool clear water where it first saw the light. We reverently 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 
 
 335 
 
 gathered some of the flowers that bent above its little basin ; 
 and then we went away. I with the words still ringing 
 in my ears, " And this is called the Tiber at Rome !" 
 
 As we followed the stream in its downward course I 
 half regretted not having sat down to make some record 
 with my pencil of a spot almost sacred to me. But, indeed, 
 I could not have settled my mind to such a task at that 
 moment. Besides, the immediate source offered nothing 
 for the pencil to seize. It was but a carpet of soft green 
 
 NEAR THE SOURCE OF THE TIBER. 
 
 grass in an opening of the wood out of which the clear 
 stream welled. Some such regrets must have been felt by 
 my artist friends ; for when we had reached the point where 
 the little streams flow together, V. and B. looked about 
 wistfully, and then sitting under the shade of one of the 
 oldest of the beeches that twisted its contorted trunk as if in 
 pain, they made me two precious drawings, though we were 
 not without some kind of nervousness at the delay so near 
 the haunts of the lawless troop of malviventi. We were not 
 
336 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 molested, however, and we soon had the satisfaction of sitting 
 down to a good hearty meal with an hour's quiet rest after it. 
 
 The mountain upon which the Tiber takes its rise is but 
 a part of a larger and more elevated chain, the highest 
 point of which is called Monte Fumajolo, which bounds one 
 side of a vast irregular basin of limestone rocks, whose 
 romantic peaks lift themselves in sublime majesty around 
 It is here that the Apennine range, after gradually trending 
 eastwards from the junction of the Nar, makes its nearest 
 approach to the Adriatic. Indeed the Marecchia, which 
 falls into the Adriatic at Rimini, has its source very near to 
 that of the Tiber ; so that the spot must be about the apex, 
 of the watershed. The miniature republic of San Marino 
 and, I believe, the town of Rimini itself are to be seen from 
 the more elevated summits in clear weather. 
 
 As we left the place, the afternoon shadows were begin- 
 ning to lengthen on the broken slopes ; but long before 
 the evening red had transformed the splintered pinnacles 
 into pillars of living gold, we lost sight of the miserable 
 osteria with its friendly loiterers, the quiet church nestled 
 amongst the hills, and the smiling patches of green field 
 in our downward journey. 
 
 Our return road lay on the banks and sometimes in the 
 bed of the river. We followed the stream from the spot 
 where it issued out of the beech forest, over barren spurs of 
 the mountains crested with fringes of dark pine, down to a 
 lonely and desolate valley, shut in by dun and misty blue 
 peaks. Then we entered the portals of a solemn wood 
 with grey trunks of trees everywhere around us and im- 
 penetrable foliage above our heads, the deep silence only 
 broken by fitful songs of birds. To this succeeded a blank 
 district of barren shale, cleft into great gullies by many a 
 wintry torrent. Presently we found ourselves at an enor- 
 mous height above the river upon the ledge of a precipice 
 which shot down almost perpendicularly on one side to the 
 bed of the stream. This spot, we were told, was called La 
 Balza della Donna (The Woman's Rock) from a woman 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 337 
 
 having once thrown herself down from it ; but whether it 
 was through 
 
 " Amor ch' a null' amato amar perdona," 
 
 (".Love which brooks not disregard"), or from some less 
 romantic cause, our guides were unable to inform us. A 
 little past this place we came upon a very singular and 
 picturesque spot. It was an elevated rock shut within 
 a deep dim gorge, about which the river twisted, almost 
 running round it. Upon this rock were built a few 
 gloomy-looking houses and a quaint old-world mill. It 
 was reached from the hither side by a widely-spanning one- 
 arched bridge. It was called Val Savignone. The ima- 
 gination of a Dore could suggest nothing more wildly 
 desolate than this romantic little fastness with the stream 
 murmuring round it, the vast peaks rising above it, shut out 
 from all excepting the sun for a few hours at midday and 
 the stars at night. What it must be in the winter, when 
 the shallow waters of the summer season are changed to 
 raging torrents which fill the bed of the stream and roar at 
 the base of the rock as if to tear it down, and the heavens 
 pour their surcharged floods upon it from above, may be 
 partly imagined. We were sorry to have to pass by this 
 place without the opportunity of even a hasty drawing ; but 
 as the day was fast going and we had still many miles 
 before us, we were obliged to leave its solitudes unrecorded. 
 Henceforwards we chiefly followed the bed of the river. 
 At Balsciano, a small village perched upon the cliffs, the 
 hills began to subside. As we passed the steep ac- 
 clivity upon which the village stands, we were greatly 
 amazed and amused to see some goats running and 
 skipping down what appeared to be almost like the surface 
 of a perpendicular wall of rock. They seemed to be sup- 
 ported on nothing, and though the shale followed them 
 in loose fragments at every turn, not one of them made a 
 false step. Presently these heights declined, and we found 
 ourselves between easy slopes, which led us through paths 
 of willow and dwarf poplar, once more to our temporary 
 
338 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 domicile at Pieve San Stefano, but not before the crescent 
 moon showed a pale disk, and the stars were sparkling like 
 diamonds in the sky. 
 
 A few miles distant from Pieve San Stefano, towards 
 Borgo San Sepolcro, the Singerna empties itself into the 
 Tiber. It was in a hamlet upon its banks that Michael 
 Angelo was born — a place which appears to be but vaguely 
 known to his biographers. This we determined to visit ; 
 but instead of following the course of the river, Tomaso 
 proposed to take us across country to Caprese (the name of 
 
 CAPRESE. 
 
 the memorable spot). The next day we arranged to do 
 this ; H., who was somewhat fatigued with our long journey 
 of the previous day, agreeing to go with the carriage on the 
 high road 'to Borgo, and await us at a certain spot, where 
 we proposed to rejoin him in the evening. We accordingly 
 set out with a relay of asses, under the charge of Tomaso 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 339 
 
 and their owner, a bluff country fellow who minded his 
 business, but had no words to throw away. After a few 
 hours' journey we reached the Singerna as it wound its 
 willow-fringed way through an open recess of the hills, the 
 conical elevation upon which Caprese is situated rising on 
 the farther side of it. As we sat down to sketch, the sun 
 began to slope downwards, throwing soft grey shadows in 
 the mellowing sunshine. We then climbed the hills, scram- 
 bling over volcanic cinders and amongst the disordered 
 fragments of the torrent-ploughed road. At last we gained 
 the summit, and we were amply repaid for our labours, if 
 there had been nothing more than thefine view which there 
 met us. Beneath us lay an unlevel plain bounded by the 
 broken summits of the Apennine range. At the foot of the 
 elevation upon which we stood the river wound through its 
 bed of white boulders, bordered with poplars at intervals, 
 a faint murmur of which just reached our ears. There were 
 no more than a few miserable houses on its summit, the 
 highest portion of which contained nothing but the remains 
 of a ruined castle, the old municipal building in which 
 Michel Angelo was born, and a little modern chapel. As 
 the person who had the key of the communal chambers 
 was down below at his agricultural labours in the valley, we 
 despatched a messenger to him, and besides that, commenced 
 to ring the chapel bell, the sound of which went booming 
 across the valley until it died in the echoes of the hills. 
 Presently the holder of the keys came and opened the door 
 of the building for us. The outside was partly covered 
 with stone tablets, upon which were sculptured initials, 
 coats of arms, or other devices of the various syndics or 
 governors of the district, some of them quite obliterated by 
 time and weather. In vain I sought one bearing any device 
 of the Buonarroti. Besides these there was a modern white 
 marble slab let into the wall commemorating the formation 
 of the kingdom of Italy under Victor Emmanuel. The house 
 is built of good solid stone masonry, consisting of three 
 rooms and a garret on the second floor, which generally 
 constitutes the habitable portion of an Italian house. On 
 
340 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 the ground floor there are some cells giving out of a central 
 chamber which look as if they might have been formed for 
 prisons. The chamber in which Michel Angelo was born 
 is about twenty-six feet long by seventeen broad. It is 
 entered by a simple arched doorway and is lighted by a 
 little oblong window. Over the doorway of this chamber is a 
 rude modern inscription in distemper, which, translated, runs 
 as follows : " Here was born the immortal Michel Angelo 
 Buonarotti in the year one thousand four hundred and 
 seventy-four. He lived eighty-nine years and died in 
 Rome in the year one thousand five hundred and sixty- 
 four." In the year of Michel Angelo's birth, his father, who 
 was a man of name and note in Florence, was appointed 
 podestd or governor of Caprese and Chiusi, and accordingly 
 removed hither with his wife, who here gave birth to her 
 second child, the illustrious artist. They only remained 
 here a year, after which, the term of office being expired, 
 they returned to Florence. 
 
 The sun was fast sinking to his fall as we descended the 
 hill of Caprese, and we had still a dozen miles of journey 
 before we could reach the place where H. would be already 
 awaiting us. As we had to follow the bed of the river the 
 whole distance, we were obliged to keep on our donkeys 
 if we wished to retain dry feet, as the stream had to be 
 continually forded in its crossings from one side to the 
 other ; the bed being much wider than the space occupied 
 by the stream. It was a most uneasy journey for the poor 
 brutes that bore us, the boulders and pebbles being of all 
 sizes, so that every step was an uncertain one. It offered 
 many charmingly picturesque turns. Sometimes bordered 
 with soft pastoral slopes, and sometimes hung with great 
 plumes of sombre foliage. Once or twice, on the spreading 
 shoals, herds of white oxen came down to drink, grouping 
 themselves in the most picturesque manner under the trees. 
 Presently the daylight died quite away and the bright stars 
 came out above us, as we pursued our way in silence, our 
 rustic guide dimly seen stalking in front of us, answering 
 every question in monosyllables, or not at all, never once 
 
Chap. XI. FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 341 
 
 turning to look behind him. One little episode impressed 
 itself strongly on my mind. We had left the bed of the 
 stream for a little distance, and were threading our way 
 along one of its banks. Tall trees were arched above us, 
 through which the bright stars twinkled by fits. Bats flew 
 hither and thither ; whilst the night-moth dashed by through 
 the night which was his day : the owl at intervals giving 
 forth his solemn whoop. The seclusion, the stillness, the un- 
 certain glimmer of light, the soft sense of luxury and beauty 
 diffused around, filled the mind with the most soothing reflec- 
 tions, recalling all the romance and tenderness of "youth 
 and buried time." 
 
 At last, as the river bed opened into a broader estuary, 
 we descried the lights of the Madonnina, or Lesser Madonna 
 — for such was the name given to a few houses on the road 
 where the Singerna flows into the Tiber, from a small 
 shrine of the Madonna existing there. Here we found H. 
 awaiting us with some anxiety. Dismissing our rustic 
 guide and Tomaso, with whom we parted with a hearty 
 shaking of hands, we were presently on our way to Borgo 
 San Sepolcro, where we arrived to a welcome supper before 
 midnight. 
 
 The next day on our way to Arezzo, the nearest point 
 of the railway, we crossed the river near Anghiara, at the 
 site of a celebrated battle, some account of which will close 
 our historical records of the classic stream. The engage- 
 ment took place on the twenty-ninth of June, one thousand 
 four hundred and forty, between Piccinino, commander of the 
 Milanese army, and the Florentines under Giovanni Paolo 
 Orsini. The circumstances are thus given in Baldeschi's 
 life of Piccinino.* 
 
 * There is also a rhymed account of this battle in the Magliabecchian 
 Library at Florence, which has some spirited passages. This for example : 
 
 E si vedean gli elmetti sfavillare 
 Pe'colpi delle accette e mazze forti; 
 Ognun ta prova di quel che sa fare, 
 Come poltron non voglion esser morti ; [Carone 
 
 2 A 
 
342 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 " When Piccinino with his Lombardese soldiers stood in 
 front of Citta di Castello, hearing that Francesco Sforza 
 was ravaging Lombardy with fire and sword and had ap- 
 proached the very gates of Milan, the latter were very 
 anxious to return thither in defence of their homes and 
 countries. With great difficulty Piccinino quieted them 
 under the promise of a speedy return, but in the mean- 
 time determined to attack the enemy, who were near to 
 Anghiara ; and '' with this design," the historian says, " issu- 
 ing secretly from his position with several horsemen (a good 
 part of the night still remaining) went to reconnoitre their 
 camp. The day following, having commanded his soldiers 
 to be prepared to march at an early hour, he came to 
 Borgo, leaving his baggage, and making known his design 
 to the officers of his regiment, afterwards despatching his 
 son Francesco in advance with two companies of horse who 
 were on guard that day. No sooner had this been done 
 than he prepared to follow, calculating that as it was the 
 festival of St. Peter and the day already far advanced, the 
 discipline of the camp would be relaxed, and that, taking 
 them by surprise, he would have little difficulty in routing 
 them. In this he would not have been disappointed if 
 Micheletto, the captain of the cavalry, had not anticipated 
 the danger, for whilst a part of the soldiers, half unarmed, 
 sheltered themselves in their tents from the heat of the 
 noonday sun, and whilst others, oppressed with food and 
 sleep, lay stretched in the shade, he alone, fully armed, had 
 set himself the task of going round the camp, which was 
 near the walls of Anghiara, and seeing from an elevation 
 an unusual cloud of dust in the distance, raised the alarm, 
 informing the other captains of the coming of the enemy, 
 upon which the whole camp immediately began to arm, 
 each having time to rouse himself and exchange a few 
 
 Carone in questo di debbe siidare: 
 Ciascuu della salute cerca i porti; 
 E dov' e men la battaglia divisa 
 Quivi si mette Niccolo di Pisa. 
 
Chap. XL FROM PERUGIA TO THE SOURCE. 
 
 343 
 
 words with his comrades. When all was ready, Micheletto 
 went with a company of cavalry and occupied the bridge, 
 which was little more than three hundred paces from the 
 foot of the hills. Here a stream, running between steep 
 banks into the Tiber, divides the plain. At this place 
 Micheletto awaited the enemy. When they came up, those 
 in advance, seeing the enemy above them, although pre- 
 viously bent on the attack, were somewhat cooled, this 
 happening out of all their expectations, yet, nevertheless, 
 they rushed upon them, and commencing the battle, they at 
 first drove them from the bridge to the place they had 
 come from, but afterwards, being overcome by the numbers 
 that poured upon them from the camp, they retired by 
 degrees towards the bridge. Piccinino, in the meanwhile, 
 sending other companies in aid of the first, caused the 
 battle to be renewed, the same thing being done on the 
 other side. Thus as the one side and the other gave itself 
 to reinforce its own party, presently the whole of the troops 
 were engaged, a sharp and cruel battle taking place between 
 them, neither captains nor soldiers pausing to take breath 
 for a moment. So ardently did they fight, that when the 
 quarters became too close for the use of lances and 
 pikes they fought with their knives. When the battle had 
 thus continued with the utmost fury for more than three 
 hours the soldiers of Piccinino, both because they were not 
 fighting on their own ground and were tired with the 
 journey of twelve miles which they had made, and because 
 evening now approaching, a wind arose from the hills 
 where the enemy was stationed, blowing so much dust into 
 their faces and into their eyes as to take away from them 
 both sight and breathing, were obliged to turn their backs 
 on their opponents." 
 
 In spite of the poet-chronicler's assertion, that everybody 
 wielded a bloody sword (" Ciasciino ha la sua spada iu' 
 sa7iguinata "), the historian informs us that '' not many were 
 killed on either side, but prisoners were made of eighteen 
 hundred cavalry and thirteen hundred soldiers of Borgo, 
 
 2 A 2 
 
344 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE TIBER. Chap. XI. 
 
 whom Piccinino had enrolled as if for a manifest prey. About 
 sixty women whom Niccolo had placed along the road with 
 vessels of water to refresh his troops were trampled to 
 death with the horses. He saved himself and the remnant 
 of his troops by regaining Borgo, laying it altogether upon 
 adverse fortune that he had been conquered that day." 
 
 \) 
 
 \ 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
( 345 ) 
 
 L'ADDIO. 
 
 AND now my task is done. As I write this the day 
 has once more sloped downwards ; the mountains 
 are purple and dark against the sky ; the landscape is 
 subdued to a sombre grey ; the oxen are loosed from the 
 yoke ; the flocks of sheep go home ; the peasant lays aside 
 his labour for repose ; the mechanic leaves his toil ; the 
 birds retire to rest. Again comes the solemn hour of 
 twilight, the magic time of the south, " when the desire of 
 the travelled pilgrim turns towards home, and the softened 
 heart is filled with pensive memories of past partings, whilst 
 the vesper bell from afar seems to mourn the dying of the 
 day." And still the old river flows on to the sea through 
 sunlight and starlight, and will continue to flow when the 
 footsteps that now tread its banks shall be staj^ed upon its 
 shores for ever, and new generations rise with new thoughts 
 and feelings, as its crumbling monuments and perishing 
 memorials slowly sink into oblivion and mingle their many 
 memories with the silent dust. Farewell ! 
 
INDEX, 
 
 ACQUA CETOSA, 132. 
 
 /Emilius Paulus, his triumph, 74. 
 
 Agrippina, 118. 
 
 Alexius, St., 50. 
 
 Alfanus, 58. 
 
 Allia, Battle of the, 179. 
 
 Almo River, 31. 
 
 Angelo, St., Castle of, 81. 
 
 Anghiara, Battle of, 341. 
 
 Anguillara, Tower of, 60. 
 
 Anio, the, 134. 
 
 Anna Perenna, Festival of, 129. 
 
 Antemnae, site of, 132. 
 
 Antoninus, M. Aurelius, 83. 
 
 Antoninus Pius, 83. 
 
 Aqua Crabra, 56. 
 
 Aquae Albulae, 139. 
 
 Arnold of Brescia, his martyrdom, 
 
 129. 
 Assisi, 294. 
 Atys, 10. 
 
 Augustine, St., at Ostia, 1 8 
 Augustus, tomb of, 1 1 1 ; character, 
 
 112 ; death and funeral, 114. 
 
 Bagnorea, 235. 
 
 Balsciano, 337. 
 
 Baize, Le, 333. 
 
 Bassano, 233. 
 
 Battle of Stones at Perugia, 291. 
 
 Beffati, the, take Orvieto, 2 50. 
 
 Berardino di Quillo, 288. 
 Bona Dea, her temple, 43. 
 Bonaventura, St., 237. 
 Borghetto, 217. 
 Borgo San Sepolcro, 327. 
 Bourbon, Duke of, 96. 
 Brennus, 184. 
 
 Buonarotti, Michael Angelo, birth- 
 place of, 339. 
 
 Cacus and Hercules, 40. 
 
 Caeso, 37. 
 
 Caius Cestius, pyramid of, 34. 
 
 Caligula, 120. 
 
 Camillus takes Veii, 173; saves 
 
 Rome, 184; treats with Ealisci, 
 
 221. 
 Campus Martius, Rome, in. 
 Caprese, 338. 
 Caracalla, 57, 87. 
 Castel Fusano, 22. 
 Castel Giubileo, 151. 
 Cellini, Benvenuto, imprisonment of, 
 
 100. 
 Cerbara, 138. 
 
 Cincinnatus, his farm and story, 36. 
 Cittk di Castello, 319. 
 Civita Castellana, 218. 
 Civitella, 258. 
 Classic vow, a, 322. 
 Claude's Villa, 127 
 
348 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Claudia, 43. 
 Claudius, 121. 
 Clitumnus River, 304. 
 Cloaca Maxima, 59. 
 Clodius, 43. 
 Cloelia, 55. 
 Collatia, 139. 
 Commodus, 86. 
 
 Constantine and Maxentius, 148. 
 Corbaro, 257. 
 Cornelius Cossus, 159. 
 Correse (Cures), 217. 
 Cremera River, 166. 
 Crescentius, 95. 
 Crustumerium, 187. 
 Cybele and Atys, temple of, at 
 Ostia, 9. 
 
 D'Este Villa at Tivoli, 145. 
 
 Diruta, 269. 
 
 Dragoncello, 26. 
 
 Drusus, 119. 
 
 Ducci Agostino, facade by, 294. 
 
 Euphemian, 50. 
 
 Fabii, the, 171. 
 
 Falerii, 220. 
 
 Farnese Palazzo, 71. 
 
 Farnesina Palazzo, 71. 
 
 Fiano (Flavinium), 217. 
 
 Ficana, 27. 
 
 Fidenae, 151. 
 
 Fiumicino, 6, 24. 
 
 Foiano, Benedetto da, 109. 
 
 Fortebraccio defends Todi, 263 ; 
 takes Perugia, 284; defeats 
 Ceccholino, 317; takes Citta 
 di Castello, 323. 
 
 Forum Boarium, 56. 
 
 Francis, St., of Assisi, 295. 
 
 Fratta, 316. 
 
 Fumajolo Monte, 336. 
 
 Gardiner, Stephen, letter of, from 
 Orvieto, 243. 
 
 Germanicus, 118, 
 Ghetto, the, 69. 
 
 Giotto, works of, at Assisi, 298. 
 Giovanni, San, Battle of, 285. 
 Giuliano della Rovere, 21. 
 Giustino, San, 326. 
 Gracchus, Caius, 44. 
 Gregory the Great, 88. 
 
 Hadrian, Villa of, 140; tomb of, 81. 
 
 Herbanum, 242. 
 
 Hildebrand, Pope Gregory VII., 48. 
 
 Hippolytus, 20. 
 
 Horatii and Curatii, combat of the, 
 
 154. 
 Horatius Codes, 54. 
 
 Island of the Tiber, Rome, 62. 
 Isola Sacra, Ostia, 6. 
 
 Jacopone, Fra, of Todi, 267. 
 Jupiter, temple of, at Ostia, 7. 
 
 Keats, John, his tomb and epitaph, 34. 
 Knights of Malta, the, 47. 
 
 Ladislaus, King, besieges Todi, 263. 
 Leo X., death of, 27. 
 Livia, Villa of, 185. 
 Lucius Verus, 84. 
 
 Madama Villa, 129. 
 
 Magliana, 27. 
 
 Manlius, Titus, 135. 
 
 Marcellus, 117. 
 
 Marcellus, Theatre of, 68. 
 
 Marcigliana, 187. 
 
 Marcus Aurelius, 83. 
 
 Marozia, 93. 
 
 Matilda, Countess, 67. 
 
 Matteo degli Orsini, vengeance of, 
 
 246. 
 Maxentius, 148. 
 Mentana, 191. 
 
 Metastasio, birthplace of, 295. 
 Michelotti, Biordo, 277. 
 Miracle play at Perugia, 289. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 349 
 
 Mithras, temple of, at Ostia, 13. 
 Monica, death of, at Ostia, 18. 
 Mons Sacer, 136. 
 Monte Mario, 128. 
 Monte Rotondo, 188. 
 Monte Testaccio, 35. 
 Mucius Scaevola, 55. 
 
 Nar, the, 225. 
 
 Narnia, 225. 
 
 Navalia, the, 36. 
 
 Nero, death of, 150. 
 
 Nerva, 121. 
 
 Nisus and Euryalus, story of, 23. 
 
 Nomentum, 191. 
 
 Numa, 41. 
 
 Octavia, 117. 
 
 * Octavius,' dialogue by M. Minucius 
 
 Felix, 17. 
 Oddi and Baglioni, strifes of the, 273. 
 Onofrio, St., convent of, 72. 
 Orte, 228. 
 Orvieto, 242. 
 Ostia, 6. 
 Otho III., 95. 
 
 Otricoli (Ocriculum), 225. 
 Ovid, tomb of, 147. 
 
 Paglia, the, 242, 256. 
 
 Pallone, game of, 329. 
 
 Paul's, St., Basilica, near Rome, 29. 
 
 Perugia, 270. 
 
 Perugia, Lake of, 310. 
 
 Perugino, frescoes by, 293. 
 
 Piccinino takes Assisi, 301 ; is de- 
 feated at Anghiara, 342. 
 
 Picus and Faunus, legend of, 41. 
 
 Pietro della Francesca, works of, at 
 Borgo, 328. 
 
 Pieve San Stefano, 330. 
 
 PinciaA Hill, evening on the, 124. 
 
 Plating, 100. 
 
 Pons -tlius (Ponte St. Angelo), 80. 
 
 Pons i^milius (Ponte Rotto), 59. 
 
 Pons Cestius (Ponte St. Bartolo- 
 meo), 66. 
 
 Pons Fabricius (Ponte de' Quattro 
 
 Capi), 66. 
 Pons Janiculensis (Ponte Sisto), 70. 
 Pons Milvius (Ponte Molle), 130. 
 Pons Salarus, 134. 
 Pons Sublicius, 54. 
 Pons Triumphalis, 73. 
 Porano, 241. 
 Portus, 20. 
 Prima Porta, 185. 
 Priorato, Convent of the, 47. 
 Procession of virgins on the Aven- 
 
 tine, 46. 
 Propertius, birthplace of, 295. 
 Protestant cemetery at Rome, 32. 
 
 Rienzo, Cola di, his end, 122. 
 Ripetta, the, iii. 
 
 Sack of Rome, 96. 
 
 Salt-pits of Ostia, 21. 
 
 San Michele, 234. 
 
 San Paolo alle tre fontane, Church 
 of, 28. 
 
 San Paolo fuori le Mura, Church 
 of, 28. 
 
 Santa Maria di Fallen, 223. 
 
 Santo Spirito, hospital of, 72. 
 
 Saxa Rubra, 147. 
 
 Scorano, 194. 
 
 Septimius Severus, 87. 
 
 Shelley, P. B., his death and burial- 
 place, 33. 
 
 Shepherd boy's jest, a, 287. 
 
 Signorelli, Luca, his paintings at 
 Orvieto, 252. 
 
 Silva Laurentina, 23. 
 
 Singerna, the, 338. 
 
 Songs, popular, of Tiberine district, 
 197. 
 
 Soracte Mons, 216. 
 
 Source of the Tiber, 334. 
 
 Spada Villa, 149. 
 
 Subiaco, 146. 
 
 Sumptuary laws at Citta di Castello. 
 323. 
 
350 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Superstitious character of ancient 
 Romans, 45. 
 
 Tasso, last days of, 72. 
 
 Terni, Falls of, 227. 
 
 Thrasimene, Lake and battle of, 310. 
 
 Tiber, the, its colour, course, and 
 tributaries, i ; its current, level, 
 and floods, 2 ; its associations, 3. 
 
 Tiberius, character and death of, 120. 
 
 Tifernum, 320. 
 
 Tivoli, 141. 
 
 Todi (Tuder), 260. 
 Tor di Nona, 1 1 1 
 Tor di Valle, 28. 
 Triumph, a Roman, 74. 
 Tullus Hostilius, 152. 
 Tuoro, 314. 
 
 Umbertidi, 316. 
 
 Val Savignone, 337. 
 Veii, 166. 
 Vitelli, the, 322. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET 
 AND CHARING CROSS. 
 
Just Published, Crown Svo., price 6s., cloth, 
 
 THE SHEPHERD'S GARDEN. 
 
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