WE lost no time in seeing the wonders of this extraordinary country. Our first object was to follow Æneas to the Cuman Shore, and on our way thither, it was but just to pay our oblations at Virgil's Tomb. This celebrated monument is close to the top of the Grotto of Pausilippe, on the left of the east entrance. The inside is a square of twelve feet, with three niches for urns on the east and west sides, two niches and a door, through which you enter, on the south, and the same on the north. The roof is arched, and about nine feet high. The outside was originally octagonal, but the angles being worn away, it is now circular, and at a distance looks like the remains of a small tower. The materials are of the common kind, and I did not observe any marble near it, except two modern inscriptions.
Formerly the tomb was surrounded with laurels, but as every idle visitor took a leaf, there is not a sprig left. We could not help exclaiming against such sacrilege; but our guide endeavoured to comfort us, by saying that the Marquis Salcitro had ordered a new set to be planted.
The Grotto of Pausilippe is at the west end of the suburbs of Naples. It is a public road cut through the mountain, near half a mile in length, and wide enough for two carriages to drive abreast. Its height is very irregular, in some parts eighty feet, and at others only five-and-twenty. In the day time you may see from one end to the other, by the help of two large apertures, cut diagonally from the center of the grotto to the surface of the mount; but at night we were obliged to use torches, which, when any number of vehicles are driving together, have a most beautiful effect. The bottom, like all Naples, is paved with square pieces of lava. Its exact date has not been ascertained. The common people insist that it was done by inchantment, as a proof of which they allege that no stones were found near the entrance. It would be to no purpose to tell them, that those who perforated the mount, very naturally made use of the stone in building the town.
But after all, the difficulty in accomplishing this passage was by no means so great as one would at first imagine, for the stone is so soft, that until it has been for some time exposed to the air, you may crumble it to dust. Neither, in my opinion, is this celebrated excavation equal to the batteries, magazines, and communications, formed in the solid rock of Gibraltar by Mr. Inch, under the direction of General Eliott, and continued with astonishing success by Major-General O'Hara.
After passing the Grotto we drove to Puzzoli. The road is remarkably pleasant, great part of it runs between groves of poplars, planted in regular order, to sustain the vines, in the style of our hop gardens. The vines are loaded with grapes, and, encircling the trees, form a variety of beautiful festoons from one tree to another in every direction. The ground beneath is either covered with grass, or laid out for corn.
Turning a little out of the way to the right, we came to Lago D'Agnano, formerly a volcano, now a romantick, beautiful lake. Close to it is a little cave called Grotto del Cane, from a vapour that rises in it so obnoxious to dogs, that it kills them in a few minutes, and doubtless it would have the same effect on man, or any other animal, whose head was held near the ground.
Between Lago D'Agnano and Puzzoli, on the side of another extinguished volcano, called the Solfaterra, we saw the Piscatelli, or Boiling Springs, of whose wonderful effect, in turning lava and pumice stone into clay and into soil, I had the same evening the satisfaction of hearing a philosophical account from Sir William Hamilton, with which he has already favoured the public.
We hired a boat at Puzzoli, and after rowing about two miles across part of the celebrated Bay of Baia, with Virgil in my pocket, landed close to the Lucrine Lake, at the foot of Monte Nuovo. This mountain, which is several hundred yards in height, and above a mile in circumference, was thrown up by the Lucrine Lake in a violent earthquake in the year 1538. However strange this may appear, such phenomena are by no means uncommon in Italy. The lake was of course much reduced by this eruption, and now only covers three or four acres. It is about ten yards from the sea, and has a sluice to communicate with it.
After a short walk in a pleasant vineyard, we entered the Sibyl's Cave, a road cut through a mountain in the style of the Grotto of Pausilippe, but on a smaller scale. The passage from the cave to her palace is only wide enough for one person. After descending ten or twelve yards, we came to her baths, four small chambers with water still in them. We were carried through on men's backs, with candles in our hands, and ascending a little on the opposite side, came to the door of her palace; but it is so choaked up with rubbish, that we were obliged to return without finding an entrance; and passing through her cave and a wild shrubbery on the west of it, we arrived at Lake Avernus, and on the opposite banks saw the grove where Æneas was to find the golden bough.
The lake seems to have lost the noxious qualities Virgil ascribed to it; but this, I imagine, is owing to most of the high trees with which it was closely surrounded being cut down, and little but brushwood left. The temple is at a small distance on the right of the lake; we wanted to go to it, but our Cicerone persuaded us that it would be better to delay seeing that and the entrance into Hell, until we had been at Cuma.