The road from Rome to Naples is indeed the most luxuriant that I know, and the whole mode of travelling most agreeable. You fly through the plain; for a very slight gratuity the postilions gallop their horses like mad, which is very advisable in the Marshes. If you wish to contemplate the scenery, you have only to abstain from offering any gratuity, and you are soon driven slowly enough. The road from Albano, by Ariccia and Genzano, as far as Velletri, runs between hills, and is shaded by trees of every kind; uphill and downhill, through avenues of elms, past monasteries and shrines. On one side is the Campagna, with its heather, and its bright hues; beyond comes the sea, glittering charmingly in the sunshine, and above, the clearest sky; for since Sunday morning the weather has been glorious.
Well! we drove into Velletri, our night quarters, where a great Church festival was going on. Handsome women with primitive faces were pacing the alleys in groups, and men were standing together wrapped in cloaks, in the street. The church was decorated with garlands of green leaves, and as we drove past it we heard the sounds of a double bass and some violins; fireworks were prepared in the square; the sun went down clear and serene, and the Pontine Marshes, with their thousand colours, and the rocks rearing their heads one by one against the horizon, indicated the course we were to pursue on the following day. After supper I resolved to go out again for a short time, and discovered a kind of illumination; the streets were swarming with people, and when I at last came to the spot where the church stood, I saw, on turning the corner, that the whole street had burning torches on each side, and in the middle the people were walking up and down, crowding together, and pleased to see each other so distinctly at night. I cannot tell you what a pretty sight it was. The concourse was greatest before the church; I pressed forward into it along with the rest. The little building was filled with people kneeling, adoring the Host, which was exposed; no one spoke a word, nor was there any music. This stillness, the lighted church, and the many kneeling women with white handkerchiefs on their heads, and white gowns, had a striking effect. When I left the church a shrewd, handsome Italian boy explained the whole festival, assuring me that it would have been far finer had it not been for the recent disturbances, for they had been the cause of depriving the people of the horseraces, and barrels of pitch, etc., and on this account it was unlucky that the Austrians had not come sooner.
The following morning, at six o'clock, we pursued our way through the Pontine Marshes. It is a species of Bergstrasse. You drive through a straight avenue of trees along a plain. On one side of the avenue is a continued chain of hills, on the other the Marshes. They are, however, covered with innumerable flowers, which smell very sweet; but in the long-run this becomes very stupefying, and I distinctly felt the oppression of the atmosphere, in spite of the fine weather. A canal runs along beside the chaussée, constructed by the orders of Pius VI. to form a conduit for the marshes, where we saw a number of buffaloes wallowing, their heads emerging out of the water, and apparently enjoying themselves. The straight, level road has a singular appearance. You see the chain of hills at the end of the avenue when you come to the first station, and again at the second and third, the only difference being that as you advance so many miles nearer, the hills loom gradually larger. Terracina, which is situated exactly at the end of this avenue, is invisible till you come quite close to it. On making a sudden turn to the left, round the corner of a rock, the whole expanse of the sea lies before you. Citron-gardens, and palms, and a variety of plants of Southern growth, clothe the declivity in front of the town; towers appearing above the thickets, and the harbour projecting into the sea. To me, the finest object in nature is, and always will be, the ocean. I love it almost more than the sky. Nothing in Naples made a more enchanting impression on my mind than the sea, and I always feel happy when I see before me the spacious surface of waters.
The South, properly speaking, begins at Terracina. This is another land, and every plant and every bush reminds you of it. Above all, the two mighty ridges of hills delighted me, between which the road runs; they were totally devoid of bushes or trees, but clothed entirely with masses of golden wall-flowers, so that they had a bright yellow hue, and the fragrance was almost too strong. There is a great want of grass and large trees. The old robbers' nests of Fondi and Itri looked very piratical and gloomy. The houses are built against the walls of the rocks, and there are likewise some large towers of the date of the Middle Ages. Many sentinels and posts were stationed on the tops of the hills; but we made out our journey without any adventure. We remained all night in Mola di Gaeta; there we saw the renowned balcony whence you look over orange and citron groves to the blue sea, with Vesuvius and the islands in the far distance. This was on the 11th of April. As I had been celebrating your birthday all day long in my own thoughts, I could not in the evening resist informing my companions that it was your birthday; so your health was drunk again and again. An old Englishman, who was of the party, wished me a "happy return to my sister." I emptied the glass to your health, and thought of you. Remain unchanged till we meet again.
With such thoughts in my head, I went in the evening to the citron-garden, close to the sea-shore, and listened to the waves rolling in from afar, and breaking on the shore, and sometimes gently rippling and splashing. It was indeed a heavenly night. Among a thousand other thoughts, Grillparzer's poem recurred to my memory, which it is almost impossible to set to music; for which reason, I suppose, Fanny has composed a charming melody on it; but I do not jest when I say that I sang the song over repeatedly to myself, for I was standing on the very spot he describes. The sea had subsided, and was now calm, and at rest; this was the first song. The second followed next day, for the sea was like a meadow or pure ether as you gazed at it, and pretty women nodded their heads, and so did olives and cypresses; but they were all equally brown, so I remained in a poetic mood.
What is it that shines through the leaves, and glitters like gold? Only cartridges and sabres; for the King had been reviewing some troops in Sant' Agata, and soldiers defiled on both sides of the path, who had the more merit in my eyes because they resembled the Prussians, and for a long time past I have seen only Papal soldiers. Some carried dark-lanterns on their muskets, as they had been marching all night. The whole effect was bold and gay. We now came to a short rocky pass, from which you descend into the valley of Campana, the most enchanting spot I have ever seen; it is like a boundless garden, covered entirely with plants and vegetation as far as the eye can reach. On one side are the blue outlines of the sea, on the other an undulating range of hills above which snowy peaks project; and at a great distance Vesuvius and the islands, bathed in blue vapours, start up on the level surface; large avenues of trees intersect the vast space, and a verdant growth forces its way from under every stone. Everywhere you see grotesque aloes and cactuses, and the fragrance and vegetation are quite unparalleled.
The pleasure we enjoy in England through men, we here enjoy through nature; and as there is no corner there, however small, of which some one has not taken possession in order to cultivate and adorn it, so here there is no spot which Nature has not appropriated, bringing forth on it flowers and herbs, and all that is beautiful. The Campana valley is fruitfulness itself. On the whole of the vast immeasurable surface bounded in the far distance by blue hills and a blue sea, nothing but green meets the eye. At last you come to Capua. I cannot blame Hannibal for remaining too long there. From Capua to Naples the road runs uninterruptedly between trees, with hanging vines, till at the end of the avenue, Vesuvius, and the sea, with Capri, and a mass of houses, lie before you. I am living here in St. Lucia as if in heaven; for in the first place I see before me Vesuvius, and the hills as far as Castellamare, and the bay, and in the second place, I am living up three stories high. Unfortunately that traitor Vesuvius does not smoke at all, and looks precisely like any other fine mountain; but at night the people float in lighted boats on the Bay, to catch sword-fish. This has a pretty enough effect. Farewell!
Felix.