St. Leucio marriages;[36] as I went with the Duchess I was, of course,
too late. They were over. The King as soon as he heard of our arrival
came and met us upon the _perron_, and conducted us upstairs,
where we found the Queen: her coming was an unexpected condescension
on her part. The sight of the manufacturers enjoying the Festival was
very pretty and gratifying. A thousand people were enjoying themselves
among their families in their gala clothes, dining under the prettiest
rustic arcades ornamented in the best possible taste: this number
all fed, even existing, by the bounty of the King, and each pouring
out the sincerest benediction upon him for his bounty. I wished this
picture of happiness of his own creation might excite the disposition
to extend the blessings of ease and security by encouraging industry in
Calabria and other parts of his dominions, where the wretched peasant
is ferocious from ignorance and sloth. He conversed with them with
familiarity, and enquired into their family details, all of which he
seemed perfectly acquainted with; scandal says their establishment
answers the double purpose of seraglio and nursery. The Queen was, as
she always is, very conversable and clever, but appears to have a most
impetuous temper. We dined at 12, a very good dinner, all off his own
farm; the wines were from his vineyard. The evening was not tedious,
tho’ long; she brought all her children to us and shewed off their
talents. At night the Court was illuminated, and the happy colonists
danced tarantulas. We stayed till the Queen withdrew about 10 o’clock.
She was very flattering in her compliments to me, and shook my hand
with cordiality; her reason for liking me that I had been at Vienna and
knew many of her old friends.
[Sidenote: A ROYAL FARM]
The next day we dined at Carditello with the King; it is a small
hunting palace in the centre of his farm. The dinner was served upon a
table of Merlin’s construction. No servants attend, but by pulling a
bell your plate is pulled down and a clean one sent up; so with the
dishes, and all you ask for. In short, it is exactly like a trap-door
at a theatre. He showed us all his cows, hogs, and pigs, and his
breed of stallions. He occasionally favours ladies with a sight of a
strange operation to be performed upon them before women; but this we
escaped. His carriages conveyed us to Capua, where we found our own.
The Devonshires went on to Rome. Some arrangements required my return
to Naples; Lady Plymouth drove me in her phaeton home.
The evening previous to my quitting Naples, 22nd May, I walked in
the Villa Reale after supper with Ly. Plymouth, Ld. Berwick,[37] and
Italinski. The latter was much dejected at my approaching absence,
and I really was affected by his sorrow, as he is not a man to say
lightly things he does not feel. He said when I went he should imitate
Mark Antony, who after his defeat retired to Alexandria and wrote
_Timoleon_ [_sic_] over his door, thereby declaring he was
become a misanthrope. I was sorry at leaving Ly. P., because, tho’ I
am not very prudent, I think she is less so, and I might have kept her
out of the scrape she is on the brink of falling into, for Ld. Berwick
remains the whole summer. Lord Palmerston, comically enough, calls them
‘Cymon and Iphigenia,’ for till their attachment began Ld. B. was never
heard to speak: love roused him.
On the 23rd the Websters left Naples for Capua, ‘the
antidote to all pleasure at present from its filth and
dulness,’ and continuing their journey crossed the River
Garigliano.
The gayest scenes until Mola di Gaeta, the verdure, the festoons of
vines hanging between the trees, with the glow of a crimson sun sinking
into the Mediterranean. Upon my arrival at Mola I dined, and in the
evening was tempted by the beauty of the moon to row upon the sea
within the bay for a short time. Early in the morning, by seven, I
was again in the boat, and examined the extensive remains of Cicero’s
Formian Villa. The bath is the principal object; it is beautiful. It is
in a covered recess _dans le fond d’un beau salon_, with columns
on each side: adjoining to it there are many rooms, high and narrow,
and very like those at Pompeia. The fishponds are large.
I did not go to Gaeta, distant about three miles: I regretted the
impracticability of the disposition of him who invariably checks
all I wish to do. There are still preserved unburied the bones of
the Connétable de Bourbon, his adherents not venturing to inter in
consecrated ground one who had perished in a sacrilegious act. He
was killed in 1527, in the assault of Rome. Benvenuto Cellini in his
entertaining Life of Himself assumes the honour of marking him with his
_scoppietto_ and killing him, but this _glory_ rests upon
his own assertion. There are few characters in history more deserving
of compassion and indulgence than this high-spirited and unfortunate
Constable. The caresses and revenge of Louisa de Savoie offended and
urged him to be a traitor; the one he rejected (?), the other he
resisted. Thus he became her victim beyond her wishes, for by deserting
his country and adding infamy to his name, he deprived her of her hopes
of making him yield to her desires.
At the extremity of Mola, in a vineyard, they show a circular tower,
which is called the tomb of Cicero. Beyond it are many sepulchral
monuments on each side of the road, which is made on the Appian Way.
The ancients always placed their tombs on the highway, whence the
common inscription ‘Siste viator.’
[Sidenote: JOURNEY TO ROME]
Fondi and Terracina were the next places of interest on the
road.
The Turks under Barbarossa made a descent on Fondi. The prize they
coveted was the haughty beauty Julia di Gonzaga, wife of the Count
of Fondi. She escaped their designs by hiding amongst the rocks; in
revenge they pillaged and burnt the town, in 1534. From Fondi we
soon reached Terracina, the ancient _Anxur_. The situation is
remarkably gay and pleasing. The town is close upon the sea; just above
it rises an abrupt rock on which are the ruins of a Gothic palace
forming a very picturesque view. The islands appear very close. Ponza
is the largest and most celebrated.
Stopped at Gensano to make Mrs. Hippisley[38] and her sister, Mde.
Ciciaporcia, a visit. The road from Gensano to l’Aricia is most
beautiful, through thick woods of chestnut trees, rich in foliage,
and fine ilexes of an immense bulk. The freshness and luxuriance of
the spring in Italy is far beyond anything we can have a notion of in
England.
Just at the Villa Barberini we met Jenkins,[39] who came to meet me to
beg I would dine with the Devonshires, etc., at his villa at Castel
Gondolfo. The Villa Barberini stands upon the site of Domitian’s villa,
the remains of which are very great. Porticoes extending above a mile,
and substructions of three different rows serving as a terrace to
those above. The Lago di Albano is excessively pretty: it is formed
very evidently in the crater of a sunken volcano. Ly. Duncannon ill,
and obliged to stay at Jenkins’. Got to Rome rather late. Very good
lodgings at the English tailor’s in the Piazza di Spagna. Mr. Hippisley
came as soon as I arrived, and we walked about the streets. I became
impatient for daylight, and was so full of curiosity that I got no
sleep the whole night. I could only think of the moonlight peeps I had
enjoyed of the Coliseum, so stately, so awfully majestic.
On Sunday morning, 26th of May, I arose with alacrity, and under the
ciceroneship of old Morrison began my course of _virtu_. The first
place was the Colonna Palace.... _Raphael_, ‘Holy Trinity,’ for a
church at Perugia, mentioned in his life. Its pendant, the _Gaspar
Poussin_, is preferable to it in every respect. _P. Veronese_,
‘Venus and Cupid,’ in his very best manner.... _Salvator Rosa_,
‘St. John in the Wilderness.’ The idea is taken from Raffaelle’s at
Florence: the face is very ugly and mean, the whole figure mean. Naked
figures ought to elevate the subject and give an idea of sublimity
beyond any drapery. This St. John looks like a man stripped of his
clothes.
We dined with the Palmerstons. In the evening Morrison took us to the
top of the Capitol that we might have an idea of the topography of the
city and adjacent country. The view from thence is very grand.
[Sidenote: VILLA BORGHESE]
_May 28th._--Went to see some drawings in the possession of a
Mr. Greaves, a person who accompanied Messrs. Berners and Tilson in
their expedition into Greece, Asia Minor, and Egypt. The drawings are
most accurately executed, and are assured to be faithful portraits.
It was the opinion of those gentlemen after minute examination that
the Pyramids are works of art, and not huge masses of rock polished
and shaped into their present form. They met a young man of the
name of Browne,[40] who flatters himself that he has discovered the
long-sought for Temple of Jupiter Ammon, situated in an oasis in the
dusts of Libya. He describes it as an oblong building like the cell of
a temple, ornamented inside with bas-reliefs of ram’s horns and the
other attributes of that Divinity. The remains inspire no idea either
of richness or badness. Cambyses was the last who attempted to explore
the sandy deserts in search of this splendid shrine; he and his army
perished in the enterprise. Mr. Browne is now at Alexandria learning
Arabic.
Mr. Hippisley dined with us and brought Count della Walsh, an earl made
by James III., the Palmerstons, etc. The same dreadful derangement. I
shall soon become mad myself if I much longer witness his paroxysms.
All human miseries must have a termination; this consoles, tho’ at 22,
it is a melancholy consolation. I am almost choked, suffocated by my
sorrow, I have sobbed myself sick, I must to bed.
The Villa Borghese is a most delicious spot just out of the city gates.
The gardens are crowded with buildings. The saloon is about the size of
that at Blenheim, fitted up recently in excellent taste, excepting that
gold tissue curtains are put in the niches behind the statues. In this
Hall is the famous bas-relief of the _Dancing Hours_. The Borghese
vase is here; the form is beautiful, but the sculpture is but moderate.
_The Gladiator_ is the finest statue in Rome: his exertion is well
contrasted to the grace and composure of a pensive Muse, who is placed
near him.... It would be impossible to enumerate half or even a tenth
part of the different objects of my admiration.
The Devonshires are arrived, Ly. Bessborough ill, very ill. I met
there Santa Croce;[41] she is a singular woman of her age, as she even
possesses still some remains of beauty. She has contrived to attach to
her, without any share of cleverness, many distinguished men, Florida
Blanca, Bernis, Azara, etc. She was instrumental in assisting the Pope
to become pontiff. She speaks abominable French, and to this day calls
Bernis ‘Ma chère Cardinal.’
_The Vatican._--First court built by Bramante, reviver of
architecture in Italy; the appearance too light. The museum is too
extensive to detail, and one is so over-powered by the beauties
of perfection that there is no leisure for accurate observation,
especially the first six times of going. The _Laocoon_ is
_terribly_ fine. Some have objected that he appears more occupied
by his own sufferings than in those of his children, but the only
expression is that of a man writhing in the last agonies of a painful
death. It is one of the finest specimens of the Greek school whilst
at its best, supposed about Alexander’s time. His pursuits in the
East left Greece in peace, and the arts flourished. The _Apollo_
deserves its reputation. It was found at Hadrian’s villa at Antium.
_The Nile_ with 16 boys, very fine. _Paris_, with a Phrygian
bonnet on, reckoned very like _me_. There is in the gallery at
Florence a bust of Livia which is reckoned to bear a most striking
resemblance to _me_.[42]...
[Sidenote: CARDINAL BERNIS]
I dined with the Senator, upon the Capitol, in his palace. He is a
Rezzonico, nephew to the late Pope. Papal nepotism is suspicious.
He possesses a fine portrait of the late Pope,[43] done by Mengs; it
will bear comparison with many of the old pictures. The gold-flowered
curtain which forms the background is a _tour-de-force_ to show
his skill in making a bad thing _not_ spoil a good one, but it
offends the eye, and like most difficult things surprizes without
pleasing. I went often to see old Bernis,[44] a veteran in the school
of political intrigue and love. He is a phenomenon, for age has not
impaired his faculties or misfortune subdued his liveliness. He lodges
the Mesdames, aunts of the unfortunate Louis XVI. Madame Victoire[45]
is so strikingly like him that it makes one start, and a paralytic
affection, keeping her head perpetually moving, fills me with painful
sensations. I declined going into any society, that my time might not
be too much taken up, but I went occasionally to the Santa Croce’s.
Prince Augustus, a pleasing young man, very like the Prince of Wales.
Lady Augusta Murray had just ensnared him: she is reported to be with
child.[46] The Royalists have got Nantes, it is said.
My evening walks were delicious, wandering over the scenes of classical
events.
_Vatican._--Went to see the pictures. Loggia di Raphaello. History
of Old and New Testament, executed by his scholars from his designs.
‘Lot’s wife turned into a pillar of salt, finely conceived: her
whole figure is a dead white,’ which sufficiently tells the story. A
_Dutch_ painter would have made her a _pillar of salt_.
The _Stanze_ were occupied after the assault of Rome by Bourbon’s
soldiers, and they treated the walls as they would have treated those
of the commonest barracks. On them may now be seen holes in which they
placed hooks to suspend their kettles, and the trace of smoke is even
visible. In the garden of the Vatican the Pope takes the only exercise
he can with decency; he rides early in the morning on a little ambling
mule. The extent of the building is prodigious; I have heard the number
of rooms called 7000, if not more.
_Borghese Palace._--The best collection of Old Masters in Rome.
‘Virgin in the clouds’: the best _Tintoret_ in Rome. Leonardo da
Vinci, known generally by his swarthy hue, sharp chins, high cheek
bones, and drawn-up mouths. ‘Adoration of the Shepherds,’ _James
Bassano_, good picture; he understood both perspective and
colouring. Titian sent his son to study under him; his green drapery
remarkably fine. There is always something homely and disgusting in
his compositions. A ‘Last Supper’ by him offends from unpardonable
anachronisms, as it generally consists of pickled herrings or Dutch
cheese.... _Titian_, ‘Holy Family’: fine, sober light. Modern
artists are too fond of contrasting their lights. The light of the sun
being yellow, all objects illuminated by it ought to partake of its
hue. A fine _Andrea del Sarto_, a very favourite painter of mine;
his outline is so soft and his expression exquisite.... The _good_
pictures are so numerous that it would require pages to enumerate them
all.
The _Doria Palace_, very fine mansion, and very full of fine
pictures.
[Sidenote: ROMAN COLLECTIONS]
_4th June, 1793._--_Villa Ludovici_, on the Pincian Hill.
The collection consists chiefly of marbles.... _Mars reposing_,
I admired extremely, though it is not in the purest manner. The
figure represents the action (if it is not an Irishism) so well
of being perfectly _at rest_. A group called _Papyrius and
his mother_. The expression of inquisitiveness in the mother is
admirable; curiosity with a tender sort of maternal authority is
happily united. The expression of Papyrius is deficient. _Pætus
and Arria_, so called: a beautiful, expiring, languid figure: the
action of the man turning his head is well conceived. A fine ceiling by
Guercino.
_Farnesina._--The ceiling of the hall is painted by Raphael, but
having suffered very much the ground or sky was painted by Carlo Marat
in order to give greater effect to the figures, in which it is supposed
that he has succeeded, but the contours of many of the figures have
suffered in the attempt. It represents the story of Cupid and Psyche.
Nothing can exceed the composition and variety of expression in most
of the groups. This ceiling and that at the Farnese would warrant a
decision that Raphael and A. Carracci are the first masters at Rome.
_Capitol._--In the court there are many fragments of statues.
A statue of _Julius Cæsar_ in the military dress. A group of a
lion devouring a horse; the flesh appears in the act of being drawn by
the teeth of the lion from the ribs. The countenance of the horse is
deficient; it does not express the anguish he should feel. A beautiful
bronze statue of the _Boy picking out the thorn in his foot_; a
simple action, very justly expressed. _The Wolf belonging to the
Capitol_, which Cicero mentions among the ominous portents as being
struck by lightning when the Republic was in danger. The traces are
still visible of the lightning upon it. _Hecuba_, very fine, the
exact portrait of a withered scold....
A fine collection of pictures. ‘The Sibyll,’ of _Guercino_,
the composition is not simple, the drapery clumsy. ‘Fortune,’ by
_Guido_, pretty subject, prettily treated, the colouring very
feeble. ‘St. Sebastian,’ by the same, and with the same defect;
the countenance placid and beautiful. An old witch, by _Salvator
Rosa_, which might be mistaken for a portrait of Lady Knight.[47]
In all the collections much escapes me, as I am always accompanied
by one whose impetuosity compels me to hasten from objects I would
willingly contemplate, and whose violence of temper throws me into
agitations that prevent me distinguishing the objects when they are
before me. Much as I endure now, yet it is infinitely more bearable
than formerly; experience and a better knowledge of the world makes
me laugh at menaces that used to terrify me out of my senses. These
threats have been again and again held out; they follow the slightest
difference of opinion between us.
The present reigning grievance is the being from home, and my
determined love for being abroad. The truth is I suspect some great
derangement in his affairs, as his means are not proportioned to his
expenses. Lady Palmerston, who abhors him and sees his conduct to me,
is remarkable for speaking well, even to a fault, of everybody; she
says that there are three people in the world who prove that the common
saying of, ‘None are so bad but have some portion of good,’ is not
true. The charming trio are Mrs. North, Duchess of Marlborough, and Sir
G. Webster.
[Sidenote: TIVOLI]
I set off alone with old Morrison to see Tivoli. I was to join Ly.
Bessborough, etc., there. Saw the ruins of Zenobia’s villa; Adrian’s
villa, which must have been the grandest work in his dominions; the
Temple of Vesta, which is in the garden of the inn; the cavern of
Neptune. In the morning early I set off upon a _somarello_ to see
the Cascatelle. The villa of Mæcenas is a picturesque object above
them, but the present Pope is doing all to destroy it, as it is to be
converted into a gunpowder manufactory. A beautiful group of cypresses
in the gardens of Este.
I have omitted making notes of _more_ than half the things I saw,
Pantheon, Castle of St. Angelo, etc., etc., without end.
On the 14th of June, 1793, we quitted Rome: our route was to Florence.
The Perugia road is not furnished with post horses, we therefore went
with _vetturini_, a very slow, wearisome mode of conveyance, but
not without its advantages in a pretty country. We crossed the Tiber on
the Milvian Bridge,[48] on which the ambassadors from the Allobroges
(Savoy) were arrested; and their papers seized discovered the Catiline
conspiracy. The Campagna on this side of Rome exhibits much variety of
hill and dale, but it is wretchedly cultivated. In ancient times it
was well shaded with groves and forests; towers and tombs and various
remains of Roman buildings are seen here. We crossed a bridge about
nine miles from Rome built upon a stratum of lava. We then ascended the
crater of a very large volcano, descended into it, and traversed it,
by an old house thrown down about five years ago by an earthquake. On
the right of the road to Monte Rosa are seen the remains of the Æmilian
Way, made by Paulus Æmilius after his conquest of Greece, about 150
years before the Christian era. Soracte we left greatly to the right;
it appears an isolated mountain in a plain.
About sunset I got out and walked: delicious evening. I partook of the
serenity around, tho’ my heart felt the want of some object to open
itself into; for in spite of my cold maxims of solitary comforts, I
often detect my wishes wandering to some imaginary happiness. I strive
to repress, but often feel, a strong desire to be dependent upon
another for happiness; but circumstanced as I am the thought must be
checked and selfish independence alone encouraged. The want of passion
in my constitution will always save me from the calamity of letting my
heart run away with my reason, but what will be my resource if both
head and heart accord in their choice? Hitherto the only foible I have
been drawn into was of too short a duration to be alarming; besides
absence interposed and drew me from a danger I might have fallen into
then, but could not now. A revolution has happened in my whole system;
my opinions are more formed, and tho’ I am conscious they retain still
a portion of absurdity, yet I have adopted some that will be useful.
[Sidenote: SUNSET EFFECTS]
We met an Abbé with his pupils, who advised us to take some water from
the neighbouring town, as the spring was famous for excellent water.
Nepe, the name of the town, showed itself through some trees; a fine
ruined tower covered with thick ivy peeped thro’ the festoons of vines,
a pretty foreground to the picturesque ruin. The tower is part of a
castle built by the Farnese family, now fallen into decay. The wealth
of that house has sunk into the Spanish branch of Bourbon; the vixen
Princess of Parma conveyed it by her marriage with Philip V. It is at
present vested in the King of Naples. A modern aqueduct, not unlike
the Pont du Gard. Charming view up the bed of a river, in which there
are large spacious caverns grown over with rich foliage. The contrast
of the luxurious verdure of the leaves with the bright yellow of the
soil produced a charming effect. This lovely prospect was terminated by
Soracte, rising majestically behind some tall elms; the purple tinge
from the last rays of the sinking sun was strongly dyed upon it. The
whole Western horizon glowed with its lustre--a more glorious sight
nature never yielded to the eye of man. I remember, one evening at
Dresden, being enraptured by the beauty of a pretty circumstance of
the two lights. One fine evening in August upon the bridge we walked
to enjoy the freshness: from the West the last rays of the sun were
darting upon the water, to which it had imparted its glowing tints;
on the other side the moon had risen from a pink cloud and her pale,
silvery light was beaming upon the glassy surface of the Elbe. There
could not be a more beautiful combination of lights.
Arrived at Civita Castellana at about nine o’clock. It is situated on
a steep rock, inaccessible on three sides. It is by some supposed to
have been the ancient city of Veii in Etruria. Alexander VI. built a
palace, which has more the appearance of a fortress than a habitation
in peaceful times.