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others with him, stand. In this case, however, the gentleman himself was driving, and his servant, beside whom I took my station, was perched up behind. Soon the horses were checked, and the gentleman, on turning round, from seeing my spectacles, or from some other cause, thinking, perhaps, that I might be respectable, instead of shooting me as a robber, or upbraiding me for my impudence, very politely invited me to take a seat beside him. The road was excelent, the horses extremely fleet, and we flew, Jehu-like, over the ground. We were soon on excellent terms, and, stopping at the first village we came to, he sent in his servant and ordered two tumblers of iced coffee, which was truly refreshing. On reaching Naples he reined up at the door of his palace, called his porter, exchanged cards with me, invited me to call and see him, ordered his servant to drive me to the lower part of the city, where I was going, and thus we parted. Such was the result of my impudence, and such the acquaintance I formed with the Marquis of C., a young Neapolitan nobleman.

CHAPTER VII.

CAPUA AND ROME.

A Sleeping City. - Leave Naples. — Carriages. - Conductor. - Aversa.

Hospital. Capua.- Amphitheatre.- The Liris.- Mola. – -Cicero. — Robbers. Countess of Fondi. - Terracina. - Promontory of Ciree. — Pontine Marshes. — Appii Forum. - The Three Taverns. — Velletri. – Lake Nemi,

Mount Albano. View of Rome. Reflections. - Lake Albano. American Coffee-house. - Campagna Romana. – Malaria. — Aqueducts.

Walls of Rome. – Feelings on entering the City. - Gibbon. Hotel. Appearance of Rome. - The Seven Hills. – Villas. — Fountains. — Obelisks. – Triumphal Columns.

Bridges. - Public Squares. - Palaces. St. Peter's Church ; Vestibule, Interior, High Altar. — St. Peter's Chair.

- The Dome. - Reflections. - Brazen Ball. - The Ancient Church. Public Devotions. Vatican Palace. Specimens of the Fine Arts. Classic Interest. — Statuary. - Sculpture. Vatican Library. - Popes of Rome;

their History, Claims, and Power; their Humiliation. - Etiquette of the Papal Court. - Interview with the Pope ; his Dress, and Personal Appearance.

With smiles the rising morn had come,
When, sallying forth, we left for Rome.
First at Aversa we alight,
With dust o'erspread in doleful plight:
Then on to Capua held our way,
Where wide-spread fields and vineyards lay.
On Formia next a glance we cast,
And saw where Tully breathed his last.
Ne'er be his deathless name forgot,
Whose blood bedewed that sacred spot.

We left Naples for Rome early in the morning, just as the first signs of life and motion began to appear. The people in these warm climes sleep two or three hours after mid-day, during the heat of summer, and make it up by crowding the coffee-houses, and other places of public resort, from early in the evening until after midnight. Hence they sleep late in the morning; and it were well worth one's while who has never done it, to wander through the streets of such a city as Naples, between daylight and sunrise. The shops and houses are closed, and all around is silent as the grave. You hear no more the busy hum of the myriads of her population, nor the wild and confused murmuring of a thousand conflicting streams of feeling, interest, and passion. The contrast of the surrounding stillness with the giddy whirl of business and of

pleasure, which there had been during the previous day, is most striking and impressive. You almost fancy, that with the shades of midnight darkness, the breath of the pestilence, like the besom of destruction, swept over the place, sending all to their final repose; and where so lately there was nought but activity and life, leaving only a city of the dreamless dead. One does not then feel as when wandering through the streets of Pompeii, that the wheels of time have rolled back through a score of centuries, and that he himself has awaked amid the classic scenes and manners of ancient Rome. The emotions excited rather resemble those which one has, when reading in the wild and romantic tales of the Arabian Nights, of the changes wrought by the magic wands of the Genii, or the fabled lamp of Aladdin.

We travelled in Italian post carriages, a strange kind of vehicle, made like one of our coaches, with the addition of a seat for two in front, which is covered with a top like a chaise, and forward of this, a seat for the conductor. This dignitary has nothing to do with guiding the horses, but goes through the whole distance of one hundred and fifty miles perched up in his little box, and doing little else than sleep. At the stopping places, however, he looks to the baggage, orders the postilions about, and aids the police and soldiers in fleecing travellers. For this last act of official knavery, he receives as a reward a portion of the spoil. One of these villains, by sheer brazen-faced impudence, cheated us out of eight or ten dollars, which, however, was repaid to us by his employer, when we returned to Naples. Four poor old hacks of horses were attached to each carriage, those forward being two or three rods in advance of those behind, and tied to them by long ropes. The near horse of each span was mounted by a postilion, with huge jack-boots reaching above the knees, a low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat, velvet breeches, and a quizzical looking coat, with scarlet cuffs and trimmings, the body of it ending just below the armpits, and the skirts so short, that he would not sit on them when mounted. In the right hand, they carried a short whip, with a long lash, which they cracked around their horses' ears most furiously. By doing this, and ever and anon beating their heads, they passed over their short stages of seven or eight miles at a good speed. Still I could not help thinking what a different affair from all this, is a stage concern in the United States. There, with carriages more comfortable, and which would carry a larger number, one man would do the business of the conductor and his two postilions; and with such fine, level roads as there are in the south of Italy, four good horses might be kept much cheaper, and would travel the same distance in less time than eight poor ones now do. Such is the difference between the people of an old country and a new. The former resemble the Dutchman, who, when going to mill, put a stone in one end of the bag to balance the wheat in the other, and went by an old road through the mud, instead of a new one on dry ground, merely because his father before him had done so.

On leaving the suburbs of Naples, we entered a fertile region, covered with vineyards and waving fields of grain. The first town to which we came was Aversa, which was founded by the Normans during the time of their wild and knightly adventures in that region. It has an excellent asylum for the insane, which was founded by Murat. It accommodates five hundred patients, each of whom pays twelve dollars a month. The buildings are spacious and neat, and have a large garden and a handsome church connected with them. The patients are treated with great kindness and indulgence, and, in order to please the eye, the grates of every window are shaped and painted so as to represent flower-pots filled with flowers. It is not singular, that one who himself conducted so much like a madman as Murat, should be led by sympathy for those who had wholly lost their reason, to provide for their relief and comfort.

About fifteen miles from Naples, we entered modern Capua. It is surrounded by a strong wall, and also by a broad ditch, except where the walls are washed by the ancient Vulturnus. The Cathedral is neat, and has some pretensions to elegance ; but, as in all the other towns between Naples and Rome, the beggars are so numerous and importunate as to be quite annoying. Ancient Capua is about a mile from the present city, and it is but recently that its buried ruins were partially uncovered. It was the capital of Campania, and had walls between five and six miles in circumference, with seven gates. The amphitheatre was similar, in form and size, to the Coliseum, at Rome, and, according to Cicero, would hold one hundred thousand spectators. The same author says, that there were usually forty thousand pupils in the gladiatorial school of Capua. Its public buildings vied in splendor with those of Rome and Carthage, and it had three hundred thousand inhabitants. It was attacked and taken by the Romans, and greatly reduced, because it espoused the cause of Hannibal; but, in the time of Julius and Augustus Cæsar, regained its former magnificence. During the middle ages, the Goths, Vandals, and Lombards, entirely destroyed it, and, until recently, all traces of the site and the ruins of this once splendid city, were lost in entire oblivion. The plain on which Capua is situated, and which we crossed on our way to Rome, is very extensive and fertile. On each side the view was bounded by distant mountains, and all the intervening valley was richly laden with vineyards, and fields of grain and clover. It was at Capua that Hannibal and his army fixed themselves after the battle of Cannæ, and no one, who looks out upon the wide-spread and fertile plain around, is at any loss to perceive whence were derived those means of luxurious indulgence which produced such a corrupting and enervating influence on those once hardy and warlike soldiers.

Passing the broad plain of Capua, we came to the river Liris, the boundary between the ancient kingdoms of Latium and Campania. Over this river the king of Naples has built a strong and elegant bridge, with high piers of hewn stone, over which pass long chains, on which the bridge résts. Near the point where we crossed the river are the ruins of Minturnæ, and the marsh in which the Roman Consul, Marius, was found, sunk in the mud, when fleeing from his enemies. Sad indeed was his downfall, and no wonder that after this the stern old General, when wandering amid the ruins of Carthage, felt a pleasure at the thought that, in its prostrate walls and broken columns, there was a sympathy with his own fallen greatness. From Mola, the ancient Formiæ, we saw the beautiful town and promontory of Gaeta, or Caieta, so named from the nurse of Æneas, who was buried there. Beyond this we passed the Mausoleum of Cicero, erected on the very spot where he was murdered, when, borne on a litter, he was attempting to reach the sea, then only a mile distant. The Mausoleum is a large ruinous structure of stone, two stories high, with a column within reaching to the roof. It was with feelings of no common interest that I gazed upon the spot where the blood of the greatest orator, philosopher, and theologian of ancient Rome, was shed, and from whence his right hand and his head were borne to the capital, and suspended in that very Forum which

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