DURING the examination of one of these ancient burial-places by Sir Richard C. Hoare, a storm of thunder and lightning surprised the antiquaries. “Our only place of refuge,” says Sir Richard, “was the barrow, which had been excavated to a considerable depth. The lightning flashed upon our spades and iron instruments, and the large flints poured down upon us from the summit of the barrow, so abundantly and so forcibly, that we were obliged to quit our hiding-place, and abide the pelting of the pitiless storm upon the bleak and unsheltered down.” Mr. Bowles, being of the party, sent the following beautiful poem the next morning to Sir R. C. Hoare:—
“Let me, let me sleep again;
Thus methought, in feeble strain,
Plained from its disturbed bed
The spirit of the mighty dead.
O’er my mouldered ashes cold
Many a century slow hath rolled,
Many a race hath disappeared
Since my giant form I reared;
Since my flinted[29] arrow flew,
Since my battle-horn I blew;
Since my brazen dagger’s pride
Glittered on my warlike side,
Which, transported o’er the wave,
Kings of distant ocean gave;[30]
Ne’er hath glared the eye of day
My death-bed secrets to betray,
Since with muttered Celtic rhyme,
The white-haired Druid bard sublime,
’Mid the stillness of the night,
Waked the sad and solemn rite,
The rite of death; and o’er my bones
Were piled the monumental stones.
Passing near the hallowed ground,
The Roman gazed upon the mound;
And murmured, with a secret sigh,
‘There, in dust, the mighty lie.’
Ev’n while his heart with conquest glowed,
While the high-raised flinty road[31]
Echoed to the prancing hoof,
And golden eagles flamed aloof,
And flashing to the orient light
His bannered legions glittered bright,
The Victor of the world confessed
A dark awe shivering at his breast.
Shall, then, the Sons of distant days
Unpunished on my relics gaze?
Hark! Hesus rushes from on high,
Vindictive thunder rocks the sky;
See, Taranis[32] descends to save
His hero’s violated grave;
And shakes, beneath the lightning’s glare,
The sulphur from his blazing hair.
Hence! yet though my grave ye spoil,
Dark oblivion mocks your toil:
Deep the clouds of ages roll,
History drops her mouldering scroll,
And never shall reveal the name
Of him who scorns her transient fame.”
The Ancient Etruscan City of Luni.
By La Signora Campion.
“Lunai portum est operæ cognoscere, cives.
Cor jubet hoc Ennî.”—Persius, Sat.
JUST outside the walls of Sarzana, in Liguria, and scattered over about five or six acres of the partly cultivated plain, may be found portions of the remains of the once important and thriving Etruscan city of Luni. Though it is accessible from La Spezia within half an hour by railway, yet it lies sufficiently off the beaten track of travellers to this part of Italy to be scarcely mentioned in the guide-books, and therefore it has escaped the notice which it deserves. Some account of the spot and of its early history, so far as I have been able to trace it, may therefore be acceptable. The place was at one time a trading town upon the Gulf of Spezia, and is said to have been founded by the Etrurian Tarchon.[33] (See Strabo, lib. v.; Cato, Origines xxv.)
Luni—“La Superba,” as she was proudly called of old—was situated at the head of a bay, or rather arm, of the Mediterranean, forming a commodious and deep natural harbour, and backed by that spur of the Apennines which forms the Carrara Mountains, so famous for their exquisite marble. But for the numerous fragments of ancient anchors, chains, masts of vessels, and other objects which are now and again being brought to light, and for the vast blocks of stone forming the ancient quay of the town, some of which may still be seen in situ, it would be difficult to realise that here was the identical port so admiringly mentioned by Ennius and by Strabo, and so famous as having sent forth armed vessels three thousand years ago to assist the Greeks in the siege of Troy, and from which so many thousands of tons of the Carrara marbles were exported to Italy and other countries in more recent times.
It is on record that Titus Manlius here embarked the army with which in B.C. 537 he started to quell the rebellion of the Sardi. From this port, also, the Emperor Claudius sailed on his attempt to conquer Britain.
Luni continued to rank as one of the most prosperous cities of Etruria, till it was harassed and invaded by the indomitable Ligurians, who made themselves masters of it. Wrested from them by the Romans, and subjected to the Republic, the power of Luni rapidly declined; and, as though to hasten her ruin, successive inundations of the River Magra choked up her harbour with their deposits, while the sea, as if in concert with its tributary, receded from her shore. In 1015 A.D. Luni was taken and partially destroyed by the Saracens, and in 1185 Frederick Barbarossa handed her over to the authorities of the Christian Church, who made the town an Episcopal See.