On the 23rd the Websters left Naples for Capua, ‘the antidote to all pleasure at present from its filth and dulness,’ and continuing their journey crossed the River Garigliano.
The gayest scenes until Mola di Gaeta, the verdure, the festoons of vines hanging between the trees, with the glow of a crimson sun sinking into the Mediterranean. Upon my arrival at Mola I dined, and in the evening was tempted by the beauty of the moon to row upon the sea within the bay for a short time. Early in the morning, by seven, I was again in the boat, and examined the extensive remains of Cicero’s Formian Villa. The bath is the principal object; it is beautiful. It is in a covered recess dans le fond d’un beau salon, with columns on each side: adjoining to it there are many rooms, high and narrow, and very like those at Pompeia. The fishponds are large.
I did not go to Gaeta, distant about three miles: I regretted the impracticability of the disposition of him who invariably checks all I wish to do. There are still preserved unburied the bones of the Connétable de Bourbon, his adherents not venturing to inter in consecrated ground one who had perished in a sacrilegious act. He was killed in 1527, in the assault of Rome. Benvenuto Cellini in his entertaining Life of Himself assumes the honour of marking him with his scoppietto and killing him, but this glory rests upon his own assertion. There are few characters in history more deserving of compassion and indulgence than this high-spirited and unfortunate Constable. The caresses and revenge of Louisa de Savoie offended and urged him to be a traitor; the one he rejected (?), the other he resisted. Thus he became her victim beyond her wishes, for by deserting his country and adding infamy to his name, he deprived her of her hopes of making him yield to her desires.
At the extremity of Mola, in a vineyard, they show a circular tower, which is called the tomb of Cicero. Beyond it are many sepulchral monuments on each side of the road, which is made on the Appian Way. The ancients always placed their tombs on the highway, whence the common inscription ‘Siste viator.’
JOURNEY TO ROME
Fondi and Terracina were the next places of interest on the road.
The Turks under Barbarossa made a descent on Fondi. The prize they coveted was the haughty beauty Julia di Gonzaga, wife of the Count of Fondi. She escaped their designs by hiding amongst the rocks; in revenge they pillaged and burnt the town, in 1534. From Fondi we soon reached Terracina, the ancient Anxur. The situation is remarkably gay and pleasing. The town is close upon the sea; just above it rises an abrupt rock on which are the ruins of a Gothic palace forming a very picturesque view. The islands appear very close. Ponza is the largest and most celebrated.
Stopped at Gensano to make Mrs. Hippisley[38] and her sister, Mde. Ciciaporcia, a visit. The road from Gensano to l’Aricia is most beautiful, through thick woods of chestnut trees, rich in foliage, and fine ilexes of an immense bulk. The freshness and luxuriance of the spring in Italy is far beyond anything we can have a notion of in England.
Just at the Villa Barberini we met Jenkins,[39] who came to meet me to beg I would dine with the Devonshires, etc., at his villa at Castel Gondolfo. The Villa Barberini stands upon the site of Domitian’s villa, the remains of which are very great. Porticoes extending above a mile, and substructions of three different rows serving as a terrace to those above. The Lago di Albano is excessively pretty: it is formed very evidently in the crater of a sunken volcano. Ly. Duncannon ill, and obliged to stay at Jenkins’. Got to Rome rather late. Very good lodgings at the English tailor’s in the Piazza di Spagna. Mr. Hippisley came as soon as I arrived, and we walked about the streets. I became impatient for daylight, and was so full of curiosity that I got no sleep the whole night. I could only think of the moonlight peeps I had enjoyed of the Coliseum, so stately, so awfully majestic.
On Sunday morning, 26th of May, I arose with alacrity, and under the ciceroneship of old Morrison began my course of virtu. The first place was the Colonna Palace.... Raphael, ‘Holy Trinity,’ for a church at Perugia, mentioned in his life. Its pendant, the Gaspar Poussin, is preferable to it in every respect. P. Veronese, ‘Venus and Cupid,’ in his very best manner.... Salvator Rosa, ‘St. John in the Wilderness.’ The idea is taken from Raffaelle’s at Florence: the face is very ugly and mean, the whole figure mean. Naked figures ought to elevate the subject and give an idea of sublimity beyond any drapery. This St. John looks like a man stripped of his clothes.