The present reigning grievance is the being from home, and my determined love for being abroad. The truth is I suspect some great derangement in his affairs, as his means are not proportioned to his expenses. Lady Palmerston, who abhors him and sees his conduct to me, is remarkable for speaking well, even to a fault, of everybody; she says that there are three people in the world who prove that the common saying of, ‘None are so bad but have some portion of good,’ is not true. The charming trio are Mrs. North, Duchess of Marlborough, and Sir G. Webster.
TIVOLI
I set off alone with old Morrison to see Tivoli. I was to join Ly. Bessborough, etc., there. Saw the ruins of Zenobia’s villa; Adrian’s villa, which must have been the grandest work in his dominions; the Temple of Vesta, which is in the garden of the inn; the cavern of Neptune. In the morning early I set off upon a somarello to see the Cascatelle. The villa of Mæcenas is a picturesque object above them, but the present Pope is doing all to destroy it, as it is to be converted into a gunpowder manufactory. A beautiful group of cypresses in the gardens of Este.
I have omitted making notes of more than half the things I saw, Pantheon, Castle of St. Angelo, etc., etc., without end.
On the 14th of June, 1793, we quitted Rome: our route was to Florence. The Perugia road is not furnished with post horses, we therefore went with vetturini, a very slow, wearisome mode of conveyance, but not without its advantages in a pretty country. We crossed the Tiber on the Milvian Bridge,[48] on which the ambassadors from the Allobroges (Savoy) were arrested; and their papers seized discovered the Catiline conspiracy. The Campagna on this side of Rome exhibits much variety of hill and dale, but it is wretchedly cultivated. In ancient times it was well shaded with groves and forests; towers and tombs and various remains of Roman buildings are seen here. We crossed a bridge about nine miles from Rome built upon a stratum of lava. We then ascended the crater of a very large volcano, descended into it, and traversed it, by an old house thrown down about five years ago by an earthquake. On the right of the road to Monte Rosa are seen the remains of the Æmilian Way, made by Paulus Æmilius after his conquest of Greece, about 150 years before the Christian era. Soracte we left greatly to the right; it appears an isolated mountain in a plain.
About sunset I got out and walked: delicious evening. I partook of the serenity around, tho’ my heart felt the want of some object to open itself into; for in spite of my cold maxims of solitary comforts, I often detect my wishes wandering to some imaginary happiness. I strive to repress, but often feel, a strong desire to be dependent upon another for happiness; but circumstanced as I am the thought must be checked and selfish independence alone encouraged. The want of passion in my constitution will always save me from the calamity of letting my heart run away with my reason, but what will be my resource if both head and heart accord in their choice? Hitherto the only foible I have been drawn into was of too short a duration to be alarming; besides absence interposed and drew me from a danger I might have fallen into then, but could not now. A revolution has happened in my whole system; my opinions are more formed, and tho’ I am conscious they retain still a portion of absurdity, yet I have adopted some that will be useful.
SUNSET EFFECTS
We met an Abbé with his pupils, who advised us to take some water from the neighbouring town, as the spring was famous for excellent water. Nepe, the name of the town, showed itself through some trees; a fine ruined tower covered with thick ivy peeped thro’ the festoons of vines, a pretty foreground to the picturesque ruin. The tower is part of a castle built by the Farnese family, now fallen into decay. The wealth of that house has sunk into the Spanish branch of Bourbon; the vixen Princess of Parma conveyed it by her marriage with Philip V. It is at present vested in the King of Naples. A modern aqueduct, not unlike the Pont du Gard. Charming view up the bed of a river, in which there are large spacious caverns grown over with rich foliage. The contrast of the luxurious verdure of the leaves with the bright yellow of the soil produced a charming effect. This lovely prospect was terminated by Soracte, rising majestically behind some tall elms; the purple tinge from the last rays of the sinking sun was strongly dyed upon it. The whole Western horizon glowed with its lustre—a more glorious sight nature never yielded to the eye of man. I remember, one evening at Dresden, being enraptured by the beauty of a pretty circumstance of the two lights. One fine evening in August upon the bridge we walked to enjoy the freshness: from the West the last rays of the sun were darting upon the water, to which it had imparted its glowing tints; on the other side the moon had risen from a pink cloud and her pale, silvery light was beaming upon the glassy surface of the Elbe. There could not be a more beautiful combination of lights.
Arrived at Civita Castellana at about nine o’clock. It is situated on a steep rock, inaccessible on three sides. It is by some supposed to have been the ancient city of Veii in Etruria. Alexander VI. built a palace, which has more the appearance of a fortress than a habitation in peaceful times.
I got up at half-past five to examine the bridge and castle. The morning was delicious; the vapours were still low, but the genial beams of the sun dissipated them shortly. The luxury of a fine morning at that hour is very great, and has the additional charm of singularity to me, as I sit up in melancholy solitude too late at night to be in the habit of tasting the dews of the morning. Crossed the Tiber over the Ponte Felice, the boundary of Latium. We soon got amongst the hills, very beautifully covered to their summits with brushwood and forest trees. At Terni we took calèches to see the cascade. We first went to the top; in our way we passed the little village Papigno, which in ’86 was very near demolished by an earthquake; there were three shocks, which successively destroyed the houses and church. From the top of the Monte del Marmore the fall is very grand; it is reckoned the grandest in Europe and scarcely yields to that of Niagara in America.[49] Caius[50] Dentatus, a Roman Consul, increased the cataract by turning the waters from the country of Rieti into the Lake Luco, by which the mass of water in the Velino was increased. We saw several rainbows in the spray. The Velino like the Anio has the property of incrustation, vulgarly called petrifying water. All the roots of the trees are petrified by this deposition of selenite. The Velino is very rapid. Just above the fall there is a ferry; two intrepid Cappuccini would cross when the flood was roaring; they paid the forfeit of their lives for their temerity. The stream impelled the fragile bark to the brink, and they were dashed to pieces speedily; their cowls, rosary, and patron saint could not save them. We went to the foot of the mountain to look up at the cascade, a magnificent sight. We rode upon somarelli through a delicious grove of orange and lemon trees, and afterwards through a small wood filled with nightingales. I was enchanted: the melody of the birds, the tranquillity and perfume of the air, and the beauty of all the objects around, suspended for a moment my habitual discontent, and I felt even happy. We dined in a little wood of myrtle and ilex, but when we assembled together the illusion of happiness vanished. How far preferable is solitude to the society of those who are too nearly connected to be objects of indifference. Love or hatred must be bestowed upon habitual inmates! Alas! Alas! Would it were true what I say in public, that my heart is shut to social affections. Every occasion that calls forth épanchement proves the besoin I have to belong to something that I can cherish. Mr. Hodges[51] travels with us as far as Florence. He is a good-tempered, gentlemanlike man, and full of readiness to do any little services; were he odious, I should rejoice at the society of a tiers.