frescoes of Zuccaro, and looks like a place where ten thousand ghosts might hold carnival, only perhaps their revels would be hindered by the tiny chapel which opens out of it. One room has family portraits from old times down to the present possessors. These are very proud of their home, though they are not often here. Some years ago, poverty obliged them to sell their castle, but they did so with aching hearts, and when it was bought by Prince Torlonia, a reservation was made, that if the wheel of their fortunes should revolve within a limited space of years, they should be allowed to buy it back again at the same price which he had given. Torlonia felt secure, spent much time and money at Bracciano, and was devoted to his new purchase. As the time was drawing to a conclusion, all doubt as to the future vanished from his mind, but, just in time, the fortune of the Princess-mother Odescalchi enabled the family to redeem their pledge, and the former possessors returned, to their own triumph and the delight of the inhabitants. But it was only in the last century that the Odescalchi purchased Bracciano from the Orsini, who were then begining to fall into decadence, after a splendid historical career of more than six hundred years. Pope Celestine III. (1191 -98) was an Orsini, and Pope Nicholas III.) 1277-81), whom Dante sees in hell, among the Simonists. 'Sappi ch' io fui vestito del gran manto. E veramente fui figliuol dell' Orsa, Cupido sì, per avanzar gli Orsatti, Che su l' avere, e qui me misi in borsa.' 'Inferno,' xix. But having bestowed two popes upon the Church is the least of the glories of the Orsini, and it is their ceaseless contests with the Colonna, in which they were alternately victorious and defeated, which gives them their chief historical consequence. 'Orsi, lupi, leoni, aquile e serpi Petrarca, Canz. vi. The great Lake of Bracciano was called the Lacus Sabatinus in ancient times. It is mentioned by Festus. Near the site of Bracciano, says tradition, stood the city of Sabate, which was overwhelmed by the lake long ago, though its houses, its temples, and statues may still be seen, on a clear day, standing intact beneath the glassy waters. The silvery expanse is backed by distant snow mountains, and here and there a little feudal town crowns the hill-sides or stands on the shore and is reflected in the lake. Oriolo has a villa of the Altieri, and its church-porch bears an inscription, which shows that it occupies the site of Pausilypon, built by Metia, wife of Titus Metius Herdonius. Vicarello (from Vicus Aureliae) has the ruins of a Roman villa, and is still celebrated for the baths so useful in cutaneous disorders, which were well known in old times as Aquae Aureliae. Many curious Roman coins and vases have been found there. Beyond Vicarello is Trevignano, another Orsini stronghold picturesquely crowned by an old castle. Lastly we must notice Anguillara, with a fine machicolated castle, bearing the celebrated 'crossed eels' of the famous Counts of Anguillara, of whom were Pandolfo d' Anguillara, who built the church of S. Francesco a Ripa at Rome, Everso d' Anguillara, celebrated as a robber chief of the 15th century, and Orso d' Anguillara, the senator who crowned Petrarch upon the Capitol, and lived in the old palace which still remains in the Trastevere. Their country castle, which successfully withstood a siege from the Duke of Calabria in 1486, overhangs the quiet lake which indeed at one time bore its name, and the town, which is 20 miles from Rome, is well worth visiting, by a road which turns off on the right not far from Galera. After passing on the left the castellated farmhouse of Buon-Ricovero, picturesquely situated with pine-trees on a grassy knoll, the Via Cassia, at three miles from Rome, reaches, on a bank on the right of the road, the fine sarco phagus adorned with griffins in low relief which is popularly known as Nero's Tomb, and is really that of Publius Vibius Marianus and his wife Reginia Maxima. The Via Cassia here forms one of the pleasantest drives near the capital, with its high upland views over the wide plains of the Campagna to the towns which sparkle in the sun under the rifted purple crags of the Sabina, or down bosky glades studded with old cork-trees, whose rich dark green forms a charming contrast to the burnt grass and poetic silvery thistles. A mile and a half before entering Rome by the Porta del Popolo, the road crosses the Tiber by the Ponte Molle, (See 'Walks in Rome.') CHAPTER XXX. OSTIA, AND THE SILVA LAURENTINA. MOST OST of the places of interest accessible from Rome are described on reaching the stations nearest to them on the different railways which now lead to the capital, but there are several in reaching which the main lines of railway at least are of no assistance. The excursion to Ostia and Castel Fusano is easily made from Rome by carriage in the day. Provisions must be taken, as there is no inn at Ostia, and visitors to Castel Fusano must provide themselves the day before with an order (given on presenting a card with a request at the Chigi Palace, in the Corso) to put up their horses there. Two hours suffice to see Ostia, but as much time as possible should be given to Castel Fusano. Leaving Rome by the Porta S. Paolo, we pass the Chapel of the Farewell and the great Basilica of S. Paolo. Beyond this, and indeed all the way from thence to Ostia, the road was once bordered with villas, but now there are only three cottages in the whole distance, which has an effect of bareness or solemnity in accordance with the characters of those who visit it. It leads through the monotonous valley of the Tiber, where buffaloes and grand slow-moving bovi feed amid the rank pastures, which are white in spring with narcissus. Here and there a bit of tufa rock crops up crested with ilex and laurestinus. A small Roman bridge called Ponte della Refolta is passed. At length, on mounting a slight hill, we come upon a wide view over the pale-blue death-bearing marshes of the Maremma, here called Campo-morto, to the dazzling sea, and almost immediately enter a forest of brushwood, chiefly myrtle and phillyrea, from which we only emerge as we reach the narrow singular causeway leading to Ostia itself. It is a strange scene, not unlike the approach to Mantua upon a small scale. On either side stretch the still waters of the pestiferous lagoon, called the Stagno, waving with tall reeds which rustle mournfully in the wind, and white with floating ranunculus. To the left, a serrated outline of huge pine-tops marks the forest of Fusano; to the right we see the grey towers of Porto, the cathedral of Hippolytus, and the tall campanile which watches over the Isola Sacra, where, with a feeling fitting the mysterious sadness of the place, Dante makes souls wait to be ferried over into Purgatory. Large sea-birds swoop over the reedy expanse. In front the mediaeval castle rises massive and grey against the sky-line. As we approach, it increases in grandeur, and its huge machicolations and massive bastions become visible. The desolate causeway is now peopled with marble figures; heroes standing armless by the wayside, ladies reposing headless amid the luxuriant thistle-growth. Across the gleaming water we see the faint snowy peaks of the Leonessa. On each sandbank rising above the Stagno, are works connected with the salt pans founded by King Ancus Martius, twentyfive centuries ago, and working still. They have always |