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peasant women from the village, had arrived to take part in the spectacle. We descended into the earth by a wide path like a hill-side, and then ascended by a narrower rocky path through the darkness, lighted by glaring torches. Suddenly we found ourselves on the edge of a chasm, something like the Pozzo di Santulla, a fearful pit, with a kind of rock-altar rising in the midst, blazing with fire, and throwing a ghastly glare on the wondering faces looking over the edge of the abyss, and on the sides of the tremendous columns of stalactites which rose from the ground to the roof like a vast natural cathedral, and seemed to fall again in showers of petrified fountains. Sir R. C. Hoare says that "the large vaulted roofs, spacious halls, fantastic columns and pyramids, imitating rustic yet unequalled architecture, present a fairy palace which rivals the most gorgeous descriptions of romance." Yet this does not give a sufficiently impressive idea of Collepardo. It must be seen to be realized :—seen, with its vast stalactite halls opening one beyond another, not level, but broken by rugged cliffs with winding pathlets along their edges; seen, with its flamebearing pinnacles sending volumes of bright smoke into the upper darkness: seen, with its groups of wondering people clambering along the rocks, with their flashing torches, shouting to one another as they go, and startling the bats and owls which add by their shrieks to the hideous confusion. Collepardo is the crowning feature of the tour.

"The very entrance promises something extraordinary. A black abyss yawns from between dark masses of rock, and a stream of cold air seems to rise up from the deepest depths. We wrapped up carefully before going down. The guides with the torches went on before, and soon light clouds of smoke, issuing from the clefts of the outer wall, showed that they were within. I have seen many mountain grottos, and

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am no longer on the whole susceptible to these freaks of nature; so I did not think much of the grotto of Collepardo when I entered. Yet it made an impression on me by its great size. It consists of two principal parts, like two enormous halls, separated in the middle by a low broken wall. The colour of the sides and the ground is black or golden-brown ; great rocks lie about, some of which must be climbed over, and from the irregular vaultings of the roof depend stalactites of various shapes, great and small, while others in the strangest forms and groups seem to rise to meet them from the ground.

"The most singular formations are in the back part of the grotto. In order to see it perfectly, we waited in the front space until it was completely lighted up. Not only had many men and boys with torches placed themselves here and there, but they had lighted great heaps of tow in different places. When I looked into the magic hall thus illuminated, it was certainly a wonderful sight. We now seemed to enter an Egyptian temple with black pillars, between which stood statues of sphinxes and gods, now we roamed through a forest of stone palm-trees and other fantastic plants, and again lances and swords bristled here, or armour of dwarfs and giants hung from the walls. All this seemed to live in the flickering light of the torches, which here brought out the dazzling masses, and there threw yet blacker shadows. No representation can be made of such a cave, for the imagination of each one sees it in a particular way, and peoples it with phantoms.

"Of course names are not wanting for particularly prominent stalactite formations, and I was called upon to acknowledge the likeness of this and that, but the only ones I remember are the so called 'Trophies of the Romans,' some strongly-marked forms which may easily recall the trophies on the ascent to the Capitol at Rome.”—Gregorovius.

It is possible to reach Rome in the evening after visiting Trisulti and Collepardo. We only went to the excellent country inn at Frosinone, and spent a delightful morning in the enjoyment of its invigorating air, and the lovely view from our windows. The town is most picturesque, and is full of quaint medieval bits, with some insignificant remains of a Roman amphitheatre. It occupies the site of the Volscian city Frusino.

"Fert concitus inde

Per juga celsa gradum, duris qua rupibus hæret
Bellator Frusino."-Sil. Ital. xii. 530.

CHAPTER XXI.

FARFA.

(The only way of reaching Farfa and returning to Rome the same day -and there is no satisfactory sleeping-place-is to take the train at 6.40 A. M. to Montorso. If carriages are waiting at the station, the direct road to Farfa may be taken; if not, there is a humble diligence to Poggio Mirteto, whence a two-horse carriage-25 francs-may be taken to Farfa, about five miles distant, and kept to go on to Montorso to meet the evening train. Rather more than 1 hour must be allowed for the return drive to Montorso. There is no inn at Montorso, so those who are late for the last train must go on to sleep at Terni or Spoleto.)

THE

HE excursion to Farfa should be kept till the spring. In the latter part of April, or still better in May, it is quite impossible to visit a place of more radiant loveliness. It is the ideal Italy, the most fertile part of the beautiful Sabina, and no transition can be more complete than that from the desolate Campagna, with its ruined tombs and aqueducts speaking only of the past, to these exquisite woods and deep shady valleys amid the purple mountains, filled with life and in the richest cultivation, and watered by the rushing stream of the Farfarus.

One can scarcely open a page of Italian history in the middle ages, without meeting the name of Farfa. Doubly founded by saints, its monastery rose to the utmost height of ecclesiastical importance. Its Benedictine monks were looked upon as the centre of Italian learning, and the

THE IMPORTANCE OF FARFA.

23

"Chronicle of Farfa," compiled from its already decaying charters and records by Thomas the Presbyter, about 1092, and now preserved amongst the most valuable MSS. of the Vatican, has ever since been one of the most important works of reference for Church history. The abbots lived as princes and considered themselves as the equals of the popes. It is narrated that the Abbot of Farfa once met a Pope at Corese, and knew that he must be going to the monastery. He said to his Majordomo, who was with him.

-“That is the Pope, and he is going to Farfa; of course I cannot be expected to return, but you will go back to receive him, and you will desire that the same respect should be paid to him which is paid to me, and that a fatted calf should be killed in his honour." The monks of Farfa appear never to have numbered more than 683, but the amount of their possessions is almost incredible :-" urbes duas, Centumcellas (Civita-Vecchia) and Alatrium; castaldatus 5; castella 132; oppida 16; portus 7 ; salinas 8; villas 14; molendina 82; pagos 315; complures lacus, pascua, decimas, portoria, ac prædiorum immanem copiam." Till the recent suppression, the revenues of the abbot, who has long resided at Rome, amounted to nine thousand scudi annually.

But in 1686, when Mabillon made his monastic tour, the buildings of Farfa were already falling into decay. In the summer and autumn months the air of the Farfarus was considered unhealthy, and the abbot resided at the castle of Fara on the hill-side above the monastery, and the monks eight miles off, at the convent of San Salvatore. Since that time Farfa has been more and more neglected, till its very name and existence are almost utterly forgotten.

Before our visit to Farfa in April, 1874, we found it utterly impossible to obtain any accurate information either as to the present state of the monastery or the means of reaching it. No foreigner, no modern Roman, had ever been known to go there. Even Mr. Hemans, so usually indefatigable, had never seen it. Priests, monks, and bishops were consulted in vain. Two monks were found in the abbey of Monte Cassino who had been there, and who spoke of it almost with tears of affectionate admiration, but they had been there in extreme youth, and they were now very old men. Our nearest approach to accurate information about the long lost monastery came from a porter at one of the palaces, who had a cousin, who had a sister-in-law, who had a lover, who had seen Farfa. At last, a coachman was found who came from that neighbourhood, and who said that Englishmen went far and wide to see the country and underwent many difficulties to accomplish their objects, but he wondered that they never went to Farfa, for "at Farfa were the Gates of Paradise."

Finding no carriage at the Montorso station, we were glad to take the so-called diligence to Poggio Mirteto, being the only possible means of locomotion-not a very swift one certainly, as it only went at a foot's pace on the level ground, and on the hills it stopped altogether, when, as the driver explained, it was "necessary for all the company to get out and walk, to prevent the wheels rolling backwards." We at once began to reach a new country, rich in vines and figs and olives, and with lovely views towards the noble serrated outline of Soracte. Here, amidst the glowing uplands, the Minerva at Rome has a great farm and a pink palazzo. Various towns and villages crest the differ

master of the Hotel

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