The next day was principally spent in examining the remains of the Temple of Fortune, for which this city was once celebrated. The temple and its appendages must have been enormous. I mentioned to you having seen at Paris, the drawings of this edifice by M. Huyot. He had traced the existing remains with the greatest care, and finding that the various edifices of which he determined the plans, were so placed as to admit a corresponding series opposite to them, and in one or two cases observing the vestiges of such correspondent buildings, he concluded the whole to be on one uniform symmetrical plan, and imagined buildings for whose existence there was hardly any evidence; however, everybody acknowledges the care and accuracy with which he examined the present ruins, and the judgment with which he has in general supplied the deficiencies. The only fault found is, that in some instances he has done too much. What remains of the decorative architecture corresponds with that of the round temple at Tivoli; and is probably, as I have already observed, of the time of Sylla. The rest consists of a succession of terraces, some of which are raised upon vaults, and some are supported by Cyclopean walls. These were the platforms on which the temples (for there were several subordinate temples dedicated to other divinities) and attendant edifices were erected. Of these accessory edifices scarcely anything remains. The modern town stands on the site of this extensive building, and does not even occupy the whole of it. The gardens belonging to the prince Barberini are placed on part of one of the lower terraces, and are partly supported on seven great vaults, each above 100 feet long, and more than 20 feet wide; they are lofty, but do not appear to have been erected for any other purpose than the support of the terrace. The middle of this terrace would have rested on firm ground, but the other extremity wanted, and probably had, supports of a similar nature, which are now destroyed. Wherever we turn ourselves in Palestrina, we find fragments of antiquity. The lower terrace was perhaps an addition of some of the emperors. A great deal was no doubt the work of Sylla, and some other parts were probably of an earlier date. We find here a considerable quantity of the opus incertum; and besides the capitals and bases, which resemble those of the temple of Vesta at Tivoli, there is a peculiar Ionic entablature, with very narrow dentils. Above the rest is a large semicircular wall, which now makes part of the foundation of the palace of the prince Barberini; and in the middle of this there is a small circular edifice, which M. Huyot considers as also built upon the ancient foundations, but I could not obtain any direct evidence for this opinion. If it were really the case, it must have been the principal object; the cell or adytum of the temple of Fortune itself; a very small centre to so large a mass of building. I know of no other example either of ancient or modern times where so great a number of edifices, and occupying so great an extent, were combined into one regular and symmetrical plan; and our admiration is still increased when we consider that it was necessary, not only to erect the building, but absolutely to build a place for it to stand on. I doubt after all, if it ever were a handsome fabric, and certainly at present, it cannot boast much attraction as an object merely of beauty. A fragment below it, called the Temple of the Sun, is a picturesque object, and might be united with an admirable landscape, the spectator looking towards Monte Albano; but like a great many other ruins, it stands in a vineyard, where the vines prevent any good view from within its circuit; and standing on the outside, the high enclosure hides a great part of the building. I forgot to mention a curious mosaic in the palace of prince Barberini, supposed to represent the animals of Egypt. The name of each is written in Greek characters underneath the figure. There are also representations of buildings, but if they are not given more faithfully than the animals, there is not much to be learned from them in architecture. After a hasty look over the different fragments in this temple, I went to some other Cyclopean walls, running obliquely up the hill. The antiquaries say that these were prior to the erection of the ancient Præneste, which was built at the foot of the hill below the present town. Præneste, according to Virgil, was just founded when Æneas landed in Italy. About three fourths of a mile from the town is another temple of the Sun, or at least, what my Cicerone called by that name, but I suspect he made a mistake, and did not report correctly the tradition of the place. After this we took a walk to what is called the Palace of Constantine. The ruins consist of numerous vaults and foundations, very much in the style of those about Tivoli, and probably much earlier than Constantine. A church has since been erected upon them. At Palestrina I lived upon pigeons, for which the place is famous; they are so large that I found one of them a good dinner. On the 29th I took my place for Rome in a sort of stage, which does not go with perfect regularity. The conversation was very much about a certain Barbone, who had committed great depredations in the vicinity; and of other robbers, and robberies, but we had two soldiers in the party, and thought that we had nothing to fear. These robbers are said to have increased under the government of the French: the peasantry here hated it, and to avoid the conscription and other oppressions, they retired to their mountains, and took up this trade, which they are now unwilling to abandon, and the mistaken lenity of the papal government encourages them to persevere. I have passed no uninhabited tracts, such as the fancy represents to us as the abode of banditti, but I suppose there are many such among the mountains. Part of the modern road to Rome runs on the pavement of the ancient Via Palestrina, but whatever are its merits in solidity and durability, it is not convenient. Its too smooth and even surface does not afford a sure footing to the horses.
LETTER XXXVII.
TUSCULUM, ALBANO, OSTIA.
Rome, 18th June, 1817.
After my return from Palestrina, I stayed but a few days in Rome, and again set out to visit other places in the neighbourhood. In that interval I was present at a procession to obtain rain; as the wet which I found so inconvenient at Tivoli and Subiaco, does not seem to have reached the vicinity of Rome. The Piazza in front of St. Peter’s was decorated by posts bound round with oak branches, and the portico of the church hung with crimson damask, striped with gold. The poor pope was carried round the square, kneeling, and leaning indeed upon cushions, but entirely wrapt up, except the head, in hot and heavy garments, and immoveable; he did not appear in health, and everybody seemed to compassionate him: it is a pity a wax figure could not be substituted in his place. The procession afterwards entered the church, but there was nothing remarkable in the ceremonies.
I am surprised at your incredulity about St. Peter’s toe. It is considerably worn; I intended for your satisfaction to have measured precisely the waste, but I have not yet done it. The marble foot of Michael Angelo’s Christ in the Minerva, was so much worn, that it was deemed necessary to give it a brass slipper, which begins to feel the effects of this mode of devotion; yet for one kiss on this, St. Peter must have ten. It is not however exclusively by kissing; the devotees rub it with their hands, and apply it to the forehead, before and after putting their lips to it.
My next excursion began with Frascati, where I went in a diligence of the same nature as those which run to Tivoli and Palestrina. We observed as usual, from the road, a variety of ruins, and among others, some very extensive ones at the foot of the hill, supposed to be the remains of the villa of Lucullus, but with considerable restorations of a later date. Frascati is situated on a considerable ascent, though the hill continues to rise still more behind it. At the lower part of the declivity are the remains of two villas; and at a convent a little below the town, some very extensive substructions, which dispute with those already mentioned, the honour of being the villa of Lucullus. I found here a locanda, or sort of lodging-house, and nearly opposite to it a trattoria. It is astonishing that places so much frequented as these about Rome, should be so deficient in good inns. I spent the afternoon in looking at some of the villas immediately above the town, and enjoying the beauty of the scenery; and the next morning walked to Grotto Ferrata, a delightful path, through groves of different species of oak (Quercus Robur, Cerris, and Ilex) with frequent catches of the Campagna, but without that full exposure which its naked barrenness makes disagreeable. Grotto Ferrata is a convent seated on the edge of a little valley, with some foundations, which are said to have belonged to the villa of Cicero, and boasts some very beautiful frescos of Domenichino, particularly the celebrated demoniac boy. I continued my walk as far as Marino, to see some other paintings, one of which is an admirable production of Guercino. In returning, I followed a road higher up the hill, but it would have been better to have kept lower down, where several fragments of antiquity are distinguishable.
My next walk was to Tusculum, which belongs to Lucien Buonaparte; the villa in which he usually resides is called Rufanelli. On the road, I stopt at a convent to see a crucifix painted by Guido; a little figure about six inches long painted upon a cross; and a St. Francis, by Paul Brill, which is uncommonly fine for him. The villa at Rufanelli commands a very fine view, but it is rather too elevated for picturesque beauty. About it are numerous fragments of architecture, which Lucien Buonaparte has dug up in the neighbourhood, but they are not generally in a good style. The excavations at present in hand are at the top of the hill, where the ancient town stood. There are vestiges of an amphitheatre, called by the people the school of Cicero, and some more interesting remains of a theatre, while in every part we see fragments of ancient foundations. The town was destroyed only about the year 1200, which seems almost to bring it into modern times; but these places which continue to occupy for long a period their ancient situations, are not the most favourable for antiquities. Continual changes, adapting the buildings to new purposes, destroy the ancient arrangement. The great rage for altering and renewing everything does not however seem to have taken place in Italy till the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when new churches, new convents, and new palaces, consumed the old materials with great rapidity. The ancient columns were then removed to new positions, and what was left either of Roman or Gothic, was buried in new walls, or under new decorations. We trace here the ancient streets, and can fix the position of two gates. Beyond the further gate there is a portion of the ancient city wall, of squared stones, which however divides singularly into two parts, and both parts are afterwards lost among reticulated work. Just at the division there are an ancient reservoir and fountain. The reservoir is covered with two sloping stones instead of a vault. Many curious little particulars have been discovered in these excavations, which are very interesting to a person on the spot, when the mind is excited and directed to the subject. Much of the earth thrown out from them is as complete a cinder, as if it were just ejected from Vesuvius, and the direction of the hills is such, that we might easily fancy them surrounding an enormous crater, from which the present Monte Cavo has arisen.
From Tusculum I walked to Mondragone, a vast palace of the princes Borghese, misled by a false report of ancient walls. In the afternoon I visited an ancient fragment in the town, said to be the monument of Lucullus; and they pretend that an inscription was found there to that effect, but where that inscription now is, nobody could tell me. My last object was a large circular monument, the sepulchre of Lucius Valerius Corvinus, below the town, and nearly at the foot of the hill. It seems to have been in the style of the Plautian monument, or of the Cecilia Metella.
Next morning I set out, after an early breakfast, intending to reach the summit of Monte Albano, or of Monte Cavo, which is its common name. The road at first passes among cultivated enclosures, which change as it approaches Rocca del Papa, into delightful groves of chesnut. Rocca del Papa is a village situated on a lofty pinnacle, composed of a heap of cinders, forming part of the edge of an ancient volcano. In a hot climate we feel the advantage a town enjoys in occupying these points of land; the only wonder is, that the necessity of cultivating the valleys, has not induced people to choose such as were rather less elevated; for the peasantry seem to live very much in the towns, and not each on the land he cultivates, as in England. It has been supposed that the unhealthiness of the Campagna arose from the hot days and cold nights there experienced; but the inhabitants of these places, labouring all day in the close valleys, and returning at night to their airy dwellings, must experience much greater difference; and yet all these places are reckoned perfectly healthy. From Rocca del Papa, a narrow ridge extends to the summit of the hill, and the path lies along this ridge; it is covered with wood, but nevertheless we see below us at intervals the Campi di Annibale, on the one side, forming the bottom of the ancient crater, and on the other, on a much lower level, the extended Campagna, and the city of Rome; the most conspicuous object of which is the church of St. John Lateran. The latter part of the way is along the ancient Via Triumphalis, much of the pavement of which remains. A convent has taken the place of the ancient temple of Jupiter Latialis, and a few fragments of wall, and numbers of the squared stones employed in the building attest the existence of the former edifice. There is a garden attached to the convent, occupying precisely the summit of the hill, the soil under which is said to be full of fragments. I should suppose Monte Cavo to be about as much elevated above Rome, as Ingleborough is above the little town at its base, i. e. about 2,000 or 2,200 feet, yet here is a productive garden, with fruit-trees and a fine meadow. We cease to associate the idea of mountains, with that of barrenness, which are so strongly connected in our cold and wet climate.
In descending, I followed the ancient Via Triumphalis, as far as it was traceable; but missing my way, returned almost to Rocca del Papa. I could hardly regret the error, as the walk from thence towards Albano is exceedingly beautiful, overlooking the lake and the Campagna, but in the latter part of the way, the woods become thicker, and exclude all view. Discontented with the confinement, I scrambled to the edge of the crater which contains the lake of Albano, and found a charming path among the woods on its slope, by which I continued to the ridge of the hill just above Albano, popping the pods of the bladder senna, by way of amusement, as I went along. I found an excellent inn at Albano, and after getting some dinner, returned to enjoy the view from the line of hills which surrounds this beautiful lake; the fine circular sheet of water is expanded below us; over the edge of the surrounding hills we see the Campagna, but greatly foreshortened, and Rome in the distance; on the other side is the convent of Palazzuolo, crowning its steepest and highest bank, and above that Monte Albano, covered with wood. In the way I examined the ruins of the amphitheatre, but very little remains. While looking at it I was joined by rather a shabbily dressed young man, about, I suppose, eighteen years old, who talked to me on various subjects, repeated verses of Horace and Virgil, in a manner which shewed, not only that he understood them, but was capable of entering into their beauties, and gave me afterwards some Latin verses of his own. He conducted me by a short road, as he said, to some of the ruins of the villa of Domitian, now occupied by the house and gardens of the Villa Barberini. It has been immense; but at present we find nothing remaining but great vaults and substructions; a most beautiful sunset, which I enjoyed from its terraces to the greatest advantage, made ample amends for the deficiency of the antiquities. Next morning I went to the villa of Pompey, the present Villa Doria; you know the Italians when they speak of the villa, do not mean the house, which is palazzo, palazzino, or casino, but the whole enclosure, containing, besides the small place appropriated merely to pleasure and show, a large garden cultivated for profit, and frequently vineyards, olive-grounds, and corn-fields. It was disputed at a Roman academy what constituted the difference between a villa and a vigna, and it was decided that they are the same thing. The ornamental part usually consists of a few terrace-walks, with clipt edges of bay, or sometimes shaded with ilex; and it is only a few of the principal, immediately about Rome, which considerably differ from this description. Such a villa is that of Doria at Albano, but it includes also a most delightful little bit of wood, which entirely covers the ancient ruins. The white houses of Albano, seen among the dark foliage of the venerable ilices, had the prettiest effect imaginable. Hence I walked to Castel Gandolfo, and down to the shores of the lake, which must be near 300 feet below the palace of the popes. Some fishermen were drawing their nets, but all they had caught consisted of two or three moderate sized tench, and a quantity of small fry. My principal object here was of course to see the celebrated Emissario, which as you know is an artificial subterraneous channel, of considerable length, made by the Romans to discharge the waters of the lake, and it is still the only passage they have; but the story of its formation is a very strange one. During the siege of Veii, the waters of the lake rose in dry weather to a very extraordinary elevation, so that the Romans were afraid it would overflow; terrified by the prodigy, they sent ambassadors to Delphi to learn what was to be done, and the answer enjoined them to let out the waters, but to take care that they did not flow into the sea. Now the lake is a complete crater, without any continued valley by which it could ever have found a natural outlet, and to have overflowed the edges of the basin would have required an elevation, above the present level, of I suppose 150 feet.[[10]] A few trifling springs on the banks, and probably some underwater, form its permanent supplies, and the country which drains into it, is of such small extent, that I do not believe six inches of rain would raise it thirty feet from its present level, and not a fourth part of that, if the water stood nearly up to the top of its banks. Perhaps this wonderful rise proceeded from some volcanic discharge; yet the danger does not seem to have been very pressing, since the Romans had time to send to Greece for instructions. The direction of the existing channel is nearly in a line towards the shore, but the natural direction of the hollows which receive it, conduct it towards the Tiber, into which it at present flows, yet it may have been dispersed, and perhaps in summer lost before it arrived there. The whole looks very much like a scheme to procure an irrigation for some lands whose dry soil produced but little. If the lake was to be lowered 150 feet, the tapping it would be both difficult and dangerous; but if it was only necessary to lower it 15 or 20, the execution would not require any great degree of contrivance; and the soil, which is a soft rock, yielding probably in its hardest parts to the pick-axe, and yet everywhere firm enough to maintain itself, facilitated the enterprize. It is however a wonderful work; above a mile and a half in length, and 250 feet from the surface. The front of it was faced with stones, leaving a rectangular opening, covered with a large square block of peperino, which is the material of the rest of the work, and this stone being found near Albano, is likely to have been more exclusively in use here than at Rome. This is probably the original work, but in front, there is now a vault of no great extent, of the same material, but not bonded with the other, and this may perhaps have been an addition or restoration of the emperor Claudius. The water re-appears from under an arch of rubble-work, which I do not take to be very ancient, and after washing all the dirty linen of Albano, runs off, as I have said, towards the Tiber.