  Protestant Churches—Villa Borghese—Raphael's Villa—Casino and Villa of Papa Giulio—(Claude's Villa—Arco-Oscuro—Acqua-Acetosa)—Chapel of St. Andrew—Ponte-Molle (Castle of Crescenza—Prima Porta—The Crimera—The Allia)—(The Via Cassia)—Villa Madama—Monte Mario—Villa Mellini—Porta Angelica. IMMEDIATELY outside the Porta del Popolo, on the left, are the English and American churches. "As to the position selected for these buildings, it is to be observed that, although restricted by the regulations of the Roman Catholic hierarchy to a locality outside the walls, the greatest possible attention has been paid to the convenience of the English, the great majority of whose dwelling-houses are in this immediate quarter. The English church in Rome, therefore, though nominally outside the walls, is really, as regards centrality, in the very heart of the city. The greatest possible facilities are afforded by the authorities to our countrymen in all matters relating to the establishment; and though the general behaviour of the Roman inhabitants is such as to render the precaution almost unnecessary, the protection of the police and military is invariably afforded during the hours of divine service.... Whatever be the disagreements on points of religious faith between Protestant and Catholic, there is at least one point of feeling in common between both in this respect; for the streets are tranquil, the shops are shut, the demeanour of the people is decent and orderly, and, notwithstanding the distance The papal government of Rome had more tolerance for a religion which was not its own than that of the early emperors. Augustus refused to allow the performance of Egyptian rites within a mile of the city walls. On the right of the Gate is the handsome entrance of the beautiful Villa Borghese, most liberally thrown open to the public on every day except Monday, when the Villa Doria is open. "The entrance to the Villa Borghese is just outside the Porta del Popolo. Passing beneath that not very impressive specimen of Michael Angelo's architecture, a minute's walk will transport the visitor from the small uneasy lava stones of the Roman pavement, into broad, gravelled carriage drives, whence a little further stroll brings him to the soft turf of a beautiful seclusion. A seclusion, but seldom a solitude; for priest, noble, and populace, stranger and native, all who breathe the Roman air, find free admission, and come hither to taste the languid enjoyment of the day-dream which they call life. "The scenery is such as arrays itself to the imagination when we read the beautiful old myths, and fancy a brighter sky, a softer turf, a more picturesque arrangement of venerable trees, than we find in the rude and untrained landscapes of the western world. The ilex-trees, so ancient and time-honoured are they, seem to have lived for ages undisturbed, and to feel no dread of profanation by the axe anymore than overthrow by the thunder-stroke. It has already passed out of their dreamy old memories that only a few years ago they were grievously imperilled by the Gauls' last assault upon the walls of Rome. As if confident in the long peace of their lifetime, they assume attitudes of evident repose. They lean over the green turf in ponderous grace, throwing abroad their great branches without danger of interfering with other trees, though other majestic trees grow near enough for dignified society, but too distant for constraint. Never was there a more venerable quietude than that which sleeps among their sheltering boughs; never a sweeter sunshine than that which gladdens the gentle bloom which these leafy patriarchs strive to diffuse over the swelling and subsiding lawns. "In other portions of the grounds the stone pines lift their dense "Again, there are avenues of cypress, resembling dark flames of huge funeral candles, which spread dusk and twilight round about them instead of cheerful radiance. The more open spots are all a-bloom, early in the season, with anemones of wondrous size, both white and rose-coloured, and violets that betray themselves by their rich fragrance, even if their blue eyes fail to meet your own. Daisies, too, are abundant, but larger than the modest little English flower, and therefore of small account. "These wooded and flowery lawns are more beautiful than the finest English park scenery, more touching, more impressive, through the neglect that leaves nature so much to her own ways and methods. Since man seldom interferes with her, she sets to work in her quiet way and makes herself at home. There is enough of human care, it is true, bestowed long ago, and still bestowed, to prevent wildness from growing into deformity; and the result is an ideal landscape, a woodland scene that seems to have been projected out of the poet's mind. If the ancient Faun were other than a mere creation of old poetry, and could reappear anywhere, it must be in such a scene as this. "In the openings of the wood there are fountains plashing into marble basons, the depths of which are shaggy with water-weeds; or they tumble like natural cascades from rock to rock, sending their murmur afar, to make the quiet and silence more appreciable. Scattered here and there with careless artifice, stand old altars, bearing Roman inscriptions. Statues, grey with the long corrosion of even that soft atmosphere, half hide and half reveal themselves, high on pedestals, or perhaps fallen and broken on the turf. Terminal figures, columns of marble or granite porticoes and arches, are seen in the vistas of the wood-paths, either veritable relics of antiquity, or with so exquisite a touch of artful ruin on them that they are better than if really antique. At all events, grass grows on the tops of the shattered pillars, and weeds and flowers root themselves in the chinks of the massive arches and fronts of temples, as if this were the thousandth summer since their winged seeds alighted there. "What a strange idea—what a needless labour—to construct artificial ruins in Rome, the native soil of ruin! But even these sportive imitations, wrought by man in emulation of what time has done to temples and palaces, are perhaps centuries old, and, beginning as illusions, have grown to be venerable in sober earnest. The result of all is a scene, "The final charm is bestowed by the malaria. There is a piercing, thrilling, delicious kind of regret in the idea of so much beauty being thrown away, or only enjoyable at its half-development, in winter and early spring, and never to be dwelt amongst, as the home scenery of any human being. For if you come hither in summer, and stray through these glades in the golden sunset, fever walks arm-in-arm with you, and death awaits you at the end of the dim vista. Thus the scene is like Eden in its loveliness; like Eden, too, in the fatal spell that removes it beyond the scope of man's actual possessions."—Transformation. "Oswald et Corinne terminÈrent leur voyage de Rome par la Villa-BorghÈse, celui de tous les jardins et de tous les palais romains oÙ les splendeurs de la nature et des arts sont rassemblÉes avec le plus de goÛt et d'Éclat. On y voit des arbres de toutes les espÈces et des eaux magnifiques. Une rÉunion incroyable de statues, de vases, de sarcophages antiques, se mÊlent avec la fraÎcheur de la jeune nature du sud. La mythologie des anciens y semble ranimÉe. Les naÏades sont placÉes sur le bord des ondes, les nymphes dans les bois dignes d'elles, les tombeaux sous les ombrages ÉlysÉens; la statue d'Esculape est au milieu d'une Île; celle de VÉnus semble sortir des ondes; Ovide et Virgile pourraient se promener dans ce beau lieu; et se croire encore au siÈcle d'Auguste. Les chefs-d'oeuvre de sculpture que renferme le palais, lui donnent une magnificence À jamais nouvelle. On aperÇoit de loin À travers les arbres, la ville de Rome et Saint-Pierre, et la campagne, et les longues arcades, dÉbris des aqueducs qui transportaient les sources des montagnes dans l'ancienne Rome. Tout est lÀ pour la pensÉe, pour l'imagination, pour la rÊverie. "Les sensations les plus pures se confondent avec les plaisirs de l'Âme, et donnent l'idÉe d'un bonheur parfait; mais quand on demande, pourquoi ce sÉjour ravissant n'est-il pas habitÉ? l'on vous rÉpond que le mauvais air (la cattiva aria) ne permet pas d'y vivre pendant l'ÉtÉ."—Madame de StaËl. The Casino, at the further end of the villa, built by Cardinal Scipio Borghese, the favourite nephew of Paul V., contains a collection of sculpture. The first room entered is a great hall, with a ceiling painted by Mario Rossi, and a "Cette mosaÏque fort curieuse nous offre et les combats des gladiateurs entre eux et leurs luttes avec les animaux fÉroces. Cette mosaÏque est d'un dessin aussi barbare que les scÈnes reprÉsentÉes; tout est en harmonie, le sujet et le tableau. Le sentiment de rÉpulsion qu'inspire la cruautÉ romaine n'en est que plus complet; celle-ci n'est point adoucie par l'art et paraÎt dans toute sa laideur. "On voit les gladiateurs poursuivre, s'attaquer, se massacrer, couverts d'armures qui ressemblent À celle des chevaliers: vous diriez une odieuse parodie du moyen Âge. Dans le corps de l'un des combattants un glaive est enfoncÉ. Des cadavres sont gisant parmi les flaques de sang; À cÔtÉ d'eux est le T fatal, initiale du mot grec T??at??—À laquelle leur juge impitoyable, le peuple, les a condamnÉs; du grec partout. Le maÎtre excite ses ÉlÈves on leur montrant le fouet et la palme; les vainqueurs ÉlÈvent leurs ÉpÉes, et sans doute la foule applaudit. Ils ont un air de triomphe. Ce sont des acteurs renommÉs. AuprÈs de chacun son nom est Écrit; ces noms barbares ou Étranges: l'un s'appelle Buccibus, un autre Cupidor, un autre Licentiosus, avis effrontÉ aux dames romaines."—AmpÈre, iv. 31. The collection in this villa contains no exceedingly important statues. In the vestibule are some reliefs from the arch of Claudius in the Corso, destroyed in 1527. Leaving the great hall to the left we may notice: 1st Room.— In the Centre: 2nd Room.— In the Centre: 3rd Room.— "La statue d'AnacrÉon est trÈs-remarquable, elle ressemble À la figure du poËte sur une mÉdaille de TÉos. Le style est simple et grandiose, l'expression Énergique plutÔt que gracieuse, la draperie est rude, 4th Room.— 6th Room.— In the Centre: 7th Room.— In the Centre: "D'autres statues peuvent dÉriver de la grande composition maritime de Scopas. Tel est la PalÉmon, assis sur un dauphin, de la villa Borghese, d'aprÈs lequel a ÉtÉ Évidemment conÇu le Jonas de l'Église de Sainte-Marie du Peuple, qu'on attribue À RaphaËl."—AmpÈre, Hist. Rom. iii. 284. 8th Room.— The Upper Story, reached by a winding staircase from the Galleria, contains: 1st Room.—Three fine works by Bernini. 2nd Room.— Worthy of attention are the portraits of Paul V. by Caravaggio, and of his father Marc-Antonio Borghese, attributed to Guido; also 5th Room.— "Canova esteemed his statue of the Princess Borghese as one of his best works. No one else could have an opportunity of judging of it, for the prince, who certainly was not jealous of his wife's person, was so jealous of her statue, that he kept it locked up in a room in the Borghese Palace, of which he kept the key, and not a human being, not even Canova himself, could get access to it."—Eaton's Rome. Canova took Chantrey to see this statue by night, wishing, as was his wont, to show it by the light of a single taper. Chantrey, wishing to do honour to the artist, insisted upon holding the taper for the best light himself, which gave rise to Moore's lines: "When he, thy peer in art and fame, Hung o'er the marble with delight; And while his ling'ring hand would steal O'er every grace the taper's rays, Gave thee, with all the generous zeal Such master-spirits only feel, The best of fame—a rival's praise!" In the upper part of the grounds, not far from the walls of Rome, stood the Villa Olgiati, once the Villa of Raphael. It contained three rooms ornamented with frescoes from the hand of the great master. The best of these are now preserved in a room at the end of the gallery in the Borghese Palace. The villa was destroyed during the siege of Rome in 1849, when many of the fine old trees were cut down on this side of the grounds. "The Casino of Raphael was unfurnished, except with casks of wine, and uninhabited, except by a contadina. The chamber which was the bedroom of Raphael was entirely adorned with the work of his own hands. It was a small pleasant apartment, looking out on a little green lawn, fenced in with trees irregularly planted. The walls were covered with arabesques, in various whimsical and beautiful designs—such as the sports of children; Loves balancing themselves on poles, or mounted Just outside the Porta del Popolo, a small gate on the left of the Villa Borghese leads to the Villa Esmeade,—the property of an Englishman,—of considerable extent, and possessing beautiful views of Rome and the Sabine mountains from its heights, which are adorned with a few ancient statues and vases. Unpleasantly situated near the gate of the Villa Borghese is the Pig-market. Fortunately the manner of pig-killing at Rome is not so noisy as that in northern countries. The throats of the animals are not cut, but they are pierced under the left shoulder with a long pointed bodkin, which kills them almost instantly—no blood flowing. In a very few minutes a whole pen-full of pigs can be stilettoed in this manner—indeed, for any one interested in farming matters, the slaughter of the Roman pigs is a sight worth seeing. We now enter upon the ugly dusty road which leads in a straight line to the Milvian Bridge. By this road the last Under the line of hills (Monte Parioli) on the right of the road are the Catacombs of St. Valentine. On the other side, the same hills are undermined by the Catacombs of SS. Gianutus and Basilla. Half a mile from the gate, rises conspicuously on the right of the road the Casino of Papa Giulio, with picturesque overhanging cornices and sculptured fountain. The courtyard has a quaint cloister. This is the "Villino," and, far behind, but formerly connected with it by a long corridor, is the Villa of Papa Giulio, containing several rooms with very richly decorated ceilings, painted by Taddeo Zucchero. Michael Angelo was consulted by the pope as to the building of this villa, and Vasari made drawings for it, but "the actual architect was Vignola, a modest genius, who had to suffer severely, together with all his fellow-workmen, from the tracasseries of the pope's favourite, the bishop Aliotti, whom the less-enduring Michael Angelo was wont to nickname Monsignor Tante Cose." "The villa of Papa Giulio is still visited by the stranger. Restored to the presence of those times, he ascends the spacious steps to the gallery, whence he overlooks the whole extent of Rome, from Monte Mario, with all the windings of the Tiber. The building of this palace, the laying out of its gardens, were the daily occupation of Pope Julius III. The place was designed by himself, but was never completed: every day brought with it some new suggestion or caprice, which the architects must at once set themselves to realize. This pontiff desired to forward the interests of his family; but he was not inclined to involve himself in dangerous perplexities on their account. The pleasant blameless life of his villa was that which was best suited to him. He "C'est uniquement comme protecteur des arts et comme prince magnifique que nous pouvons envisager Jules III. Sa mauvaise santÉ lui faisait rechercher le repos et les douceurs d'une vie grande et libre. Aussi avait-il fait Édifier avec une sorte de tendresse paternelle cette belle villa, qui est cÉlÈbre, dans l'histoire de l'art, sous le nom de Vigne de pape Jules. Michel-Ange, Vasari, Vignole en avaient dessinÉ les profils; les nymphÉes et les fontaines Étaient d'Ammanati; les peintures de Taddeo Zuccari. Du haut d'une galerie ÉlÉgante on dÉcouvrait les sept collines, et d'ombreuses allÉes, tracÉes par Jules III., Égaraient les pas du vieillard dans ce dÉdale de tertres et de vallÉes qui sÉpare le pont oÙ pÉrit Maxence de la ville Éternelle."—Gournerie, Rome ChrÉtienne, ii. 172. Pope Julius used to come hither, with all his court, from the Vatican by water. The richly-decorated barge, filled with venerable ecclesiastics, gliding between the osier-fringed banks of the yellow Tiber, with its distant line of churches and palaces, would make a fine subject for a picture. Nearly opposite the Casino Papa Giulio, on the further bank of the Tiber, is the picturesque classic Villa of Claude Lorraine, whither he was wont to retire during the summer months, residing in the winter in the Tempietto at the head of the TrinitÀ steps. This villa is best seen from the walk by the river-side, which is reached by turning at once to the left on coming out of the Porta del Popolo. Hence it makes a good foreground to the view of the city and distant heights of the Janiculan. "This road is called 'Poussin's Walk,' because the great painter used to go along it from Rome to his villa near Ponte Molle. One sees here an horizon such as one often finds in Poussin's pictures."—Frederika Bremer. Close to the Villa Papa Giulio is the tunnel called Arco Oscuro, passing which, a steep lane with a beautiful view towards St. Peter's, ascends between the hillsides of the Monte Parione, and descends on the other side (following the turn to the right) to the Tiber bank, about two miles from Rome, where is situated the Acqua Acetosa, a refreshing mineral spring like seltzer water, enclosed in a fountain erected by Bernini for Alexander VII. There is a lovely view from hence across the Campagna in the direction of FidenÆ (Castel Giubeleo) and the Tor di Quinto. "A green hill, one of those bare table-lands so common in the Campagna, rises on the right. Ascend it to where a broad furrow in the slope seems to mark the site of an ancient road. You are on a plateau, almost quadrangular in form, rising steeply to the height of nearly two hundred feet above the Tiber, and isolated, save at one angle, where it is united to other high ground by a narrow isthmus. Not a tree—not a shrub on its turf-grown surface—not a house—not a ruin—not one stone upon another, to tell you that the site had been inhabited. Yet here once stood AntemnÆ, the city of many towers, There is a walk—rather dangerous for carriages—by the river, from hence, to the Ponte Molle. Here Miss Bathurst was drowned by being thrown from her horse into the Tiber. The river bank presents a series of picturesque views, though the yellow Tiber in no way reminds us of Virgil's description: "CÆruleus Tybris coelo gratissimus amnis." Æn. viii. 64. Continuing to follow the main road, on the left is the round Church of St. Andrew, with a Doric portico, built by Vignola, in 1527, to commemorate the deliverance of Clement VII. from the Germans. Further, on the right, is another Chapel in honour of St. Andrew's Head. "One of the most curious instances of relique worship occurred here in the reign of Æneas Sylvius, Pope Pius II. The head of St. Andrew was brought in stately procession from the fortress of Narni, whither, as the Turks invaded the Morea, it had been brought for safety from Patras. It was intended that the most glorious heads of St. Peter and St. Paul should go forth to meet that of their brother apostle. But the mass of gold which enshrined, the cumbrous iron which protected these reliques, was too heavy to be moved; so, without them, the pope, the cardinals, the whole population of Rome, thronged forth to the meadows near the Milvian Bridge. The pope made an eloquent address to the head, a hymn was sung entreating the saint's aid in the discomfiture of the Turks. It rested that day on the altar of Santa Maria del Popolo, and was then conveyed through the city, decorated with all splendour, to St. Peter's. Cardinal Bessarion preached a sermon, and the head was deposited with those of his brother apostles under the high-altar."—Milman's Latin Christianity. A mile and a half from the gate, the Tiber is crossed by the Ponte Molle, built by Pius VII. in 1815, on the site Here are a number of taverns and Trattorie, much frequented by the lower ranks of the Roman people, and for which especial open omnibuses run from the Porta del Popolo. Similar places of public amusement seem to have existed here from imperial times. Ovid describes the people coming out hither in troops by the Via Flaminia to celebrate the fÊte of Anna Perenna, an old woman who supplied the plebs with cakes during the retreat to the Mons Sacer, but who afterwards, from a similitude of names, was confounded with Anna, sister of Dido. "Idibus est AnnÆ festum geniale PerennÆ, Haud procul a ripis, advena Tibri, tuis. Plebs venit, ac virides passim disjecta per herbas Potat; et accumbit cum pare quisque sua. Sub Jove pars durat; pauci tentoria ponunt; Sunt, quibus e ramo frondea facta casa est: Pars, ubi pro rigidis calamos statuere columnis, Desuper extentas imposuere togas. Sole tamen vinoque calent; annosque precantur, Quot sumant cyathos, ad numerumque bibunt. Inventes illic, qui Nestoris ebibat annos: QuÆ sit per calices facta Sibylla suos. Illic et cantant, quidquid didicere theatris, Et jactant faciles ad sua verba manus: Et ducunt posito duras cratere choreas, Multaque diffusis saltat amica comis. Quum redeunt, titubant, et sunt spectacula vulgo, Et fortunatos obvia turba vocat. Occurri nuper. Visa est mihi digna relatu Pompa: senem potum pota trahebat anus." Fast. iii. 523. Here three roads meet. That on the right is the old Via Flaminia, begun B.C. 220 by C. Flaminius the censor. This was the great northern road of Italy, which, issuing from the city by the Porta Ratumena, which was close to the tomb of Bibulus, followed a line a little east of the modern Corso, and passed the Aurelian wall by the Porta Flaminia, near the present Porta del Popolo. It extended to Ariminum (Rimini), a distance of 210 miles. (Following this road for about 1½ mile, on the left are the ruins called Tor di Quinto. A little further on the right of the road are some tufa-rocks, with an injured tomb of the Nasones. Following the valley under these rocks to the left we reach (1½ mile) the fine Castle of Crescenza, now a farmhouse, picturesquely situated on a rocky knoll,—once inhabited by Poussin, and reproduced in the background of many of his pictures. In the interior are some remains of ancient frescoes. On this road, seven miles from Rome, is Prima Porta, where are the ruins of the Villa of Livia, wife of Augustus, and mother of Tiberius. When first opened, several small rooms in the villa, supposed to be baths, were covered with frescoes and arabesques in a state of the most marvellous beauty and "What Augustus's affection for Livia was, is well known. 'Preserve the remembrance of a husband who has loved you very tenderly,' were the last words of the emperor, as he lay on his death-bed. And when asked how she contrived to retain his affection, Dion Cassius tells us that she replied, 'My secret is very simple: I have made it the study of my life to please him, and I have never manifested any indiscreet curiosity with regard to his public or private affairs.'"—Weld. Just beyond this, the Tiber receives the little river Valca, considered to be identical with the Crimera. Hither the devoted clan of the Fabii, 4000 in number, retired from Rome, having offered to sustain, at their own cost and risk, the war which Rome was then carrying on against Veii. Here, because they felt a position within the city untenable on account of the animosity of their fellow-patricians, which had been excited by their advocacy of the agrarian law, and their popularity with the plebeians, they established themselves on a hillock overhanging the river, which they fortified, and where they dwelt for three years. At the end of that time the Veiientines, by letting loose herds of cattle like the Vaccine, which one still sees wandering in that part of the Campagna, drew them into "They fought from dawn to sunset. The enemy slain by their hand formed heaps of corpses which barred their passage."—They were summoned to surrender, but they preferred to die.—"The people of Veii showered arrows and stones upon them from a distance, not daring to approach them again. The arrows fell like thick snow. The Fabii, with swords blunted by force of striking, with bucklers broken, continued to fight, snatching fresh swords from the hands of the enemy, and rushing upon them with the ferocity of wild beasts."—Dionysius, ix. 21. A little beyond this, ten miles from Rome, is the stream Scannabecchi, which descends from the Crustuminian Hills, and is identical with the Allia, "infaustum Allia nomen," where the Romans were (B.C. 390) entirely defeated with great slaughter by the Gauls, before the capture of the city, in which the aged senators were massacred at the doors of their houses. It was in the lands lying between the villa of Livia and the Tiber that Saxa Rubra On the opposite side of the river, Castel Giubeleo, on the site of the Etruscan FidenÆ, is a conspicuous object.) (The direct road from the Ponte Molle is the ancient Via Cassia, which must be followed for some distance by those who make the interesting excursions to Veii, Galera, and Bracciano, each easily within the compass of a day's expedition. On the left of this road, three miles from Rome, is the fine sarcophagus of Publius Vibius Maximus and his wife Regina Maxima, popularly known as "Nero's Tomb.") Following the road to the left of the Ponte Molle, we turn up a steep incline to the deserted Villa Madama, built by Giulio Romano, from designs of Raphael for Cardinal Giulio de' Medici, afterwards Clement VII. It derives its name from Margaret of Austria, daughter of Charles V., and wife, first of Alessandro de' Medici, and then of Ottavio Farnese, duke of Parma; from this second marriage, it descended through Elisabetta Farnese, to the Bourbon kings of Naples. The neglected halls contain some fresco decorations by Giulio Romano and Giovanni da Udine. "They consist of a series of beautiful little pictures, representing the sports of Satyrs and Loves; Juno, attended by her peacocks; Jupiter and Ganymede; and various subjects of mythology and fable. The paintings in the portico have been of first-rate excellence; and I cannot but regret, that designs so beautiful should not be engraved before their last traces disappear for ever. A deep fringe on one of the deserted chambers, representing angels, flowers, Caryatides, &c., by Giulio Romano; and also a fine fresco on a ceiling, by Giovanni da Udine, of Phoebus driving his heavenly steeds, are in somewhat better preservation. "It was in the groves that surrounded Villa Madama, that the Pastor Fido of Guarini was represented for the first time before a brilliant circle of princes and nobles, such as these scenes will see no more, and Italy itself could not now produce."—Eaton's Rome. The frescoes and arabesques executed here by Giovanni One can scarcely doubt from the description of Martial that this villa occupies the site of that in which the poet came to visit his friend and namesake. "Juli jugera pauca Martialis, Hortis Hesperidum beatiora, Longo Janiculi jugo recumbunt. Lati collibus imminent recessus; Et planus modico tumore vertex Coelo perfruitur sereniore: Et, curvas nebula tegente valles, Solus luce nitet peculiari: Puris leniter admoventur astris CelsÆ culmina delicata villÆ. Hinc septem dominos videre montes, Et totam licet sestimare Romam." The Villa Madama is situated on one of the slopes of Monte Mario, which is ascended by a winding carriage-road from near the Porta Angelica. This hill, in ancient times called Clivus CinnÆ, was in the middle ages Monte Malo, and is thus spoken of by Dante (Paradiso, xv. 109). Its name changed to Mario, through Mario Mellini, its possessor in the time of Sixtus V. Passing the two churches of Sta. Maria del Rosario and Sta. Croce di Monte Mario, "The Monte Mario, like Cooper's Hill, is the highest, boldest, and most prominent part of the line; it is about the height and steepness too of Cooper's Hill, and has the Tiber at the foot of it, like the Thames at Anchorwick. To keep up the resemblance, there is a sort of terrace at the top of the Monte Mario, planted with cypresses, and a villa, though dilapidated, crowns the summit, as well as at our old friend above Egham. Here we stood, on a most delicious evening, the ilex and the gum-cistus in great profusion about us, the slope below full of vines and olives, the cypresses above our heads, and before our eyes all that one has read of in Roman History—the course of the Tiber between the hills that bound it, coming down from FidenÆ and receiving the Allia and the Anio; beyond, the Apennines, the distant and higher summits still quite white with snow; in front, the Alban Hills; on the right, the Campagna to the sea; and just beneath us the whole length of Rome, ancient and modern—St. Peter's and the Coliseum, rising as the representatives of each—the Pantheon, the Aventine, the Quirinal, all the well-known objects distinctly laid before us. One may safely say that the world cannot contain many views of such mingled beauty and interest as this."—Dr. Arnold. "Les maisons de campagne des grands seigneurs donnent l'idÉe de cette solitude, de cette indiffÉrence des possesseurs au milieu des plus admirables sÉjours du monde. On se promÈne dans ces immenses jardins, sans se douter qu'ils aient un maÎtre. L'herbe croÎt au milieu des allÉes; et, dans ces mÊmes allÉes abandonnÉes, les arbres sont taillÉs artistement, selon l'ancien goÛt qui rÉgnait en France; singuliÈre bizarrerie que cette nÉgligence du nÉcessaire, et cette affectation de l'inutile!"—Mad. de StaËl. (Behind the Monte Mario, about four miles from Rome, is the church of S. Onofrio in Campagna, with a curious ossuary.) Just outside the Porta Angelica was the vineyard in which Alexander VI. died. "This is the manner in which Pope Alexander VI. came to his death. "The cardinal datary, Arian de Corneto, having received a gracious intimation that the pontiff, together with the Duke Valentinos, designed to come and sup with him at his vineyard, and that his Holiness would bring the supper with him, the cardinal suspected that this determination had been taken for the purpose of destroying his life by poison, to the end that the duke might have his riches and appointments, the rather as he knew that the pope had resolved to put him to death by some means, with a view to seizing his property as I have said,—which was very great. Considering of the means by which he might save himself, he could see but one hope of safety—he sent in good time to the pope's carver, with whom he had a certain intimacy, desiring that he would come to speak with him; who, when he had come to the said cardinal, was taken by him into a secret place, where, they two being retired, the cardinal showed the carver a sum, prepared beforehand, of 10,000 ducats, in gold, which the said cardinal persuaded the carver to accept as a gift and to keep for love of him, and after many words, they were at length accepted, the cardinal offering, moreover, all the rest of his wealth at his command—for he was a very rich cardinal, for he said that he could not keep the said riches by any other means than through the said carver's aid, and declared to him, 'You know of a certainty what the nature of the pope is, and I know that he has resolved, with the Duke Valentinos, to procure my life by poison, through your hand,'—wherefore he besought the carver to take pity on him, and to give him his life. And having said this, the carver declared to him the manner in which it was ordered that the poison should be given to him at the supper, but being moved to compassion he promised to preserve his life. Now the orders were that the carver should present three boxes of sweetmeats, in tablets or lozenges, after the supper, one to the pope, one to the said cardinal, and another to the duke, and in that for the cardinal there was poison: and thus being told, the said cardinal gave directions to the aforesaid carver in what manner he should serve them, so as to cause that the box of poisoned confect which was to be for the cardinal, should be placed before the pope, so that he might eat thereof, and so poison himself, and die. And the pope being come accordingly with the duke to supper on the day appointed, the cardinal threw himself at his feet, kissing them and embracing them closely; then he entreated his Holiness with most affectionate words, saying, he would never rise from those feet until his Holiness had granted him a favour. Being questioned by the pontiff what this favour was, and requested to rise up, he would first have the grace he demanded, and the promise of his Holiness to grant it. Now after much persuasion, the pope remained sufficiently astonished, seeing The wine of the Vatican hill has had a bad reputation even from classical times. "If you like vinegar," wrote Martial, "drink the wine of the Vatican!" (Here, also, is the entrance of the Val d' Inferno, a pleasant winter walk, where, near the beginning of the Cork Woods, are some picturesque remains of an ancient nymphÆum.) The Porta Angelica, built by Pius IV. (1559—1566), leads into the Borgo, beneath the walls of the Vatican. Those who return from hence to the English quarter in the evening, will realize the vividness of Miss Thackeray's description:— "They passed groups standing round their doorways; a blacksmith hammering with great straight blows at a copper pot, shouting to a friend, a young baker, naked almost, except for a great sheet flung over his shoulders, and leaning against the door of his shop. The horses tramp on. Listen to the flow of fountains gleaming white against the dark marbles,—to the murmur of voices. An old lady, who has apparently hung all her wardrobe out of window, in petticoats and silk hankerchiefs, is looking out from beneath these banners at the passers in the streets. Little babies, tied up tight in swaddling-clothes, are being poised against their mother's hips; a child is trying to raise the great knocker of some feudal-looking arch, hidden in the corner of the street. Then they cross the bridge, and see the last sun's rays flaming from the angel's sacred sword. Driving on through the tranquil streets, populous and thronged with citizens, they see brown-faced, bronze-headed Torsos in balconies and window-frames; citizens sitting tranquilly, resting on the kerb-stones, with their feet in the gutters; grand-looking women resting against their doorways. Sibyls out of the Sistine were sitting on the steps of the churches. In one stone archway sat the Fates spinning their web. There was a holy family by a lemonade-shop, and a whole heaven of little Coreggio angels perching dark-eyed along the road. Then comes a fountain falling into a marble basin, at either end of which two little girls are clinging and climbing. Here is a little lighted May-altar to the Virgin, which the children have put up under the shrine by the street-corner. They don't beg clamorously, but stand leaning against the wall, waiting for a chance miraculous baioch?"—Bluebeard's Keys. |
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