“Rome, January 28, 1851.
“We saw two things yesterday which will interest you: the catacombs in which the early Christian martyrs were buried, and in which the Christians met during the persecutions to worship God. They are immense subterranean passages, extending, they say, twenty miles; but you can only see a part, as they are closed, for fear of affording shelter to thieves. The other thing was, a little church about two miles from Rome, on the Appian Road, to which a beautiful legend is attached. It is said that St. Peter, during the persecution in which he suffered martyrdom, lost heart, and fled from Rome by the Appian Road; he had arrived at the spot where the church now stands, when our Lord appeared to him, going towards Rome. The Apostle exclaimed in astonishment, ‘Lord, whither goest thou?’ The answer was, ‘I go to Rome to be crucified again.’ Whereupon Peter turned back, and re-entered the city, and suffered the death which had been predicted for him. There is no reason why this should not be true, but, true or not, it is a beautiful story, and I was much interested by it. They show a stone with the impression of our Lord’s feet upon it, which is kept as a relic.”
“February 10, 1851.—I think that my Italian progresses favourably. My master tells me that I pronounce it better than any other of his pupils; and as he is very strict, and finds fault with everything else, I suppose I must believe that he speaks the truth.”
“February 18, 1851.—You will be glad to hear that I have returned to Rome from my walking tour without having been robbed, or murdered; but, indeed, I must repeat, that the good gentleman your informant must have been dreaming. We received nothing but kindness and civility, and I believe that you might walk along the same mountain paths with equal safety. As for us, we looked much too rough a lot to tempt robbers, being rather like banditti ourselves. One of my companions wore a venerable beard, and I am afraid we both looked picturesque ruffians. Our other companion looked tame, and carried an umbrella. We used to take a cup of coffee and a roll soon after sunrise, then walk to some romantic village about ten miles off, and there breakfast. Our breakfast consisted of an omelette, a frittata as they call it here, which we cooked ourselves. We used to rush into an osteria di cucina in a state of ravenous hunger. ——, my friend with the beard, who is a very good cook, seizes the frying-pan, I beat up the eggs, and S—— is degraded into scullion, to cut up some ham and an onion!! I believe the people think us mad. They could not conceive why we liked to cook our own breakfast, and walk when we might have ridden. After breakfast, it was so hot that we used to select a convenient spot on the hill-side, and lie down for an hour, and then continue our walk till about sunset, when we reached our resting-place for the night. In this way we saw some of the most beautiful country you can imagine. Every little exertion we made in climbing a rock was amply rewarded by something most strange and picturesque. The towns are particularly striking, some of them being built on the very top of mountains nearly 3,000 feet high, and reached with difficulty, by a narrow winding path. I am convinced that a walking tour is the only plan of really seeing Italian scenery. I made some sketches, but am sorry to say that, coming into Rome on Saturday night, my pocket was picked of my sketch-book (a very useless prize to anyone but the owner, and perhaps you), so I lost them all. I am excessively vexed, for I wanted to show you the sort of places where we took our mid-day’s rest. Tivoli was our last stage, and perhaps the most interesting,—there is such a splendid waterfall there. Even if I do not see Turin, I shall be quite satisfied with my recollections of it.”
After this he hastened home, meeting with no more serious adventure than the one recorded in a letter to the same correspondent, as follows:—
“I travelled from Chambery to Lyons all alone in a coupée with an Italian lady! Horrid situation! and what made it worse was, that the poor thing was very tired this morning, and fell fast asleep, and whilst in a state of oblivion, dropped her head comfortably on to my arm. After revolving in my mind this alarming state of things, I thought it would be best to feign to be asleep myself; and accordingly, when we jolted over a gutter, and she awoke with a start, she found me with my eyes shut, and snoring. I hope I acted it well, but could hardly help laughing. I shortly afterwards rubbed my eyes and awoke, and she gave me a roll and some chocolate, for which I was very thankful; so I suppose she approved of my conduct.”
He returned entirely restored to health, and so good an Italian scholar, that he was able to write fluently in the language, and to dedicate the little objects of art, which he brought home as presents, in appropriate verse.
One of these was an inkstand in the shape of an owl, now very common, which he presented to Lady Salusbury, a kinswoman of your grandfather, to whose adopted daughter he had lately engaged himself, with this inscription:—
“‘La stolidezza copresi talvolta di sembiante
Savio; siccome per dar ricovero all’ inchi ostro