The lake of Agnano is a pretty little circular piece of water, more varied in its banks than the volcanic lakes about Rome. It abounds in wild fowl, but is said to be destitute of fish. There are some remains of ancient baths, which have been rudely fitted up for modern use, under the name of Stufe di San Germano, a stufa being a steaming place, as opposed to a bath where you enter the water. A hot sulphureous vapour issues from the rock, which is supposed in many cases to be very conducive to health. After walking about 100 yards by the side of the lake, where the ground was covered with frogs three deep, on which it was impossible to avoid treading, we arrived at the Grotto del Cane. I had refused the dog, but I suppose he does not suffer greatly, since he accompanied us of his own accord to the mouth of the grotto. This is merely a little hollow in the side of the hill, hardly deserving the name of a cave, but fastened with a door for fear of accidents. I could hardly stand upright in it. A warm vapour rises about eighteen inches from the ground, which extinguishes a torch instantly. From this I walked back to Naples, being already nearly two miles on the road, but I shall here add the account of some farther excursions, in one of which I engaged the corribolo from Naples, as far as the Arco Felice. We pass under what is called the Villa of Cicero, at a small distance from Pozzuoli. It only consists of rubble walls, partially faced with reticulated tufo, and is certainly misnamed. We pass behind Monte Nuovo, which as all the world knows, rose in one night. The present height is 460 feet, but it appears at first to have been considerably greater. The old crater is covered with herbage, but there is one spot on the outside where the ground is still warm. Beyond this hill we look down to the left on the lake of Avernus, no longer a pestiferous lake which birds cannot fly over; but as it is evidently one of the volcanic craters with which this country abounded, one knows not what formerly may have been the case. Although looking down upon one crater, we still seem inclosed in a larger one, whose circuit is penetrated by the Arco Felice. This is pretended to have been part of the circumference of the ancient Cuma, but it is a Roman work formed of rubble-work faced with brick, wherever it is not part of the natural rock.
The Citadel of Cuma is more than half a mile distant: in our progress to it we pass the Temple of the Giants, a piece of brick and rubble-work, containing a large niche, and two or three other small fragments of no account. What remains of the citadel is a wall against a hill, in one part of considerable height. It is composed internally of large tufo, rubble, and mortar, externally of large squared blocks of a coarse lava. There are various vaults and walls on the slope of the hill below, the work of which is between the reticulated and uncertain; lower down still, is the magnificent opening of the Grotto of the Sybil, which appears to be a natural cave, but contains an ascending flight of steps leading to nothing, at least there is at present no practicable way beyond it, but there appears to have been a small opening now filled with rubbish. It was perhaps by this passage that Narses took the citadel, but it seems hardly large enough to admit a man, and more suited for a tube by which the oracles were delivered in the temple above. After leaving these objects, we proceed to the Amphitheatre, which occupies a natural hollow in the ground. There is no appearance of vaults.
Continuing our course to the south, we arrive at the Lago del Fusaro, or Acheron: there is a singular contrast between these terrible names and the lovely scenes which surround one; but the borders of these lakes are still dreadful by their insalubrity; this is a reasonable mal aria, such as one might expect from circumstances: a shallow stagnant lake in a strip of flat and marshy land, stretches along the foot of the hills parallel to the sea. The water is almost filled with putrefying confervæ, and being used in addition, as a place for steeping hemp, must be a disagreeable neighbour. It abounds, like several other lakes of the same sort in this district, with fish, and oysters, which adhere to stakes fixed in the bottom for that purpose: from this lake I crossed the hill which forms the western boundary of the bay of Naples, and without stopping at Baia, which lay close on the south, turned to the north and visited the baths of Nero, and Stufe of Tritola: the road is here cut in the rock for some distance, and nearly at the extremity of the gallery there are several chambers cut also in the soft rock, and a long winding passage, apparently artificial, which conducts to a pool of hot salt water. You are told that it will harden an egg in two minutes. I took off my coat and neckcloth and followed my guide. The heat at first was almost suffocating. However, by stooping very low, I found it more supportable, and afterwards a profuse perspiration relieved me, so that while the man was cooking his egg, I was perfectly at ease: he took with him a bucket, which he dipped into the water, and then put the egg into the bucket; he held it there three minutes, and the white was not entirely fixed, so that the temperature is probably less than 212, but being salt, if it had really boiled it would have been more. As nearly as I could estimate, the water here is at the level of the sea. The baths of Nero are close by, consisting of a large vaulted chamber cut in the rock, with some preparation for baths. I then came to the Lago Lucrino, famous now, as formerly, for its oysters, and swarming with fish, but it has been much diminished in size by the eruption of Monte Nuovo. We pass along a lane, and through vineyards to the left, to the grotto of the Sybil, that at Cuma being her town-house, and this her country residence; here are a long gallery passing through a subordinate hill, several chambers, and a bath with stone beds, where the vaults and walls are covered with mosaics; all these rooms have about 18 inches of water in them. The path afterwards ascends till it reaches a brick archway, at which we stare with wonder, as its situation seems perfectly unaccountable. It perhaps formed the original entrance, but at present all direct communication with the day is prevented by the earth which fills up the farther part.
All this is very near the lake of Avernus. Close on its banks are the remains of a large domed room called the Temple of Apollo, or of Proserpine; behind it are several small chambers. What it was, I cannot tell, the fragments here are so numerous that the attempt to determine their names seems a hopeless task.
My guide had been contending with me very strenuously, that the hot water of the stufe of Tritola, proceeded from the Solfatara passing by a natural channel under the sea. As I was walking leisurely back along the shore, he desired me to put my hand into the sea, I did so mechanically, and started back on finding both the sand and the water quite hot; this was a great triumph for him, for he considered his position to be perfectly proved. Nearer to Pozzuoli are the bases of a range of columns in the sea; they are in a straight line, and apparently horizontal, so that they do not give the idea of having slipt from their original position, but rather of an elevation in the level of the sea: this is not so mysterious as the circumstances of the columns of the temple of Serapis, but even with these smaller things, it is difficult to hit upon any theory which will consistently explain all the phenomena, and to save trouble we cut the knot and say that the ground has been heaved or depressed by the action of subterraneous fires.
On approaching to Pozzuoli we discern, projecting from an angle of the hill on which the city stands, the remains of a mole which inclosed the ancient port. It consists of brick arches, the springing of which is below the usual level of the sea, and it is this circumstance probably which has obtained for it the popular name of the bridge of Caligola. It must have been a noble work, and is evidently a Roman one; once consisting, as we are told, of twenty-five arches, of which we may perhaps now make out traces of thirteen.
On another occasion I walked from Pozzuoli along the ancient Campanian way, where the multitude of ancient tombs is very interesting, and several of them in a state almost perfect:
many of the urns remain, because they are in such abundance that no one has thought proper to take them away: they are entirely plain. Much of the stucco ornament and of the colours which enriched it, exist, as fresh apparently as when first executed.
Instead of passing through the grotto of Pausilippo, we may take a road which is called La Mergellina, near the shore of the bay, whence we enjoy the most delightful views. The hill of Pausilippo, so named from a village on its summit, forms a long narrow ridge, which advancing into the sea, divides the bay of Pozzuoli from that of Naples. At the beginning is a small church dedicated to Santa Maria del Parto, which contains the tomb of Sanazzaro. This monument is decorated with the figures of Apollo and Minerva, but the piety of the neighbouring inhabitants has changed the names to David and Judith. The road soon leaves the water’s edge, and ascends obliquely to the ridge of the hill, nor is it possible to keep close to the sea, though there are several paths leading down to it. The modern houses are very picturesque, standing frequently half in the water, or on some insulated rock, connected by an arch with the shore. About the grotto, and in the nearest part of the promontory, the Roman antiquities are few; but as we approach the point, they crowd upon us in rapid succession, baptized by different names of temples, baths, fishponds, villas and schools.[[24]]