Audiit et Triviæ longe lacus, audiit amnis 2 En. vii. 514. The Nar, now called the Nera, is the southern boundary of Umbria, and traverses, in its way to Narni, about nine miles distant, a vale of most delightful appearance. The Apennine, in its mildest form, "coruscis ilicibus fremens," bounds this plain; the milky Nar intersects it, and fertility equal to that of the neighboring vale of Clitumnus, compressed into a smaller space, and of course placed more immediately within the reach of observation, adorns it on all sides with vegetation and beauty; so that it resembles a noble and extensive park, the appendage of some princely palace, laid out and cultivated to please the eye, and to amuse the fancy. The ancient Roman colony of Narni stands on the summit of a very high and steep hill, whose sides are clothed with olives, and whose base is washed by the Nera. At the foot of the hill we alighted, in order to visit the celebrated bridge of Augustus. This noble row of arches thrown over the stream and the defile in which it rolls, to open a communication between the two mountains, and to facilitate the approach to the town, was formed of vast blocks of white stone fitted together without cement. All the piers and one arch still remain; the other arches are fallen, and their fall seems to have been occasioned by the sinking of the middle pier otherwise a fabric of so much solidity and strength must have been capable of resisting the influence of time and of weather. The views towards the bridge on the high road and the plain on one side, and on the other through the remaining arch along the river, are unusually picturesque and pleasing. We proceeded through this dell, along the Nar tumbling and murmuring over its rocky channel, and then, with some difficulty, worked our way through the olives and evergreens that line the steep, up to the town. We were particularly struck with the romantic appearance of Narni. Its walls and towers spread along the uneven summit, sometimes concealed in groves of cypress, ilex, and laurel, and sometimes emerging from the shade, and rising above their waving tops; delightful views of the vales, towns, rivers, and mountains, opening here and there unexpectedly on the eye; a certain loneliness and silence, even in the streets; the consequence and sad memorial of ages of revolution, disaster, and suffering, are all features pleasing and impressive. -to her crooked horn, Adds all her breath; the rocks and woods around, And mountains tremble at th' infernal sound. The sacred Lake of Trivia from afar, The Veline fountains, and sulphureous Nar, Shake at the baleful blast, the signal of the war.-Dryden. Shaking the sounding forest on his sides.-Dryden, Few towns have suffered more than Narni, but its greatest wounds were inflicted by the hands, not of Goths or Vandals, of barbarians and foreigners, but of Italians, or at least of an army in the pay of an Italian government, of Venice itself, which at that time gloried in the title of the second Rome, the bulwark and pillar of Italian liberty and security. It is probable that this army was composed of mercenaries, banditti, and foreigners, and, like that of Charles V. which they were hastening to join, fit solely for the purposes of plunder, sacrilege, and devastation. But, of whatever description of men these troops were composed, they acted under the authority of the Venetians, when they destroyed Narni, and butchered its defenceless inhabitants. The site of this town, its extensive views, its dell, and the river, are happily described in the following lines of Claudian : Celsa dehinc patulum prospectans Narnia campum Non procul amnis adest urbi, qui nominis auctor, Inter utrumque jugum, tortis anfractibus albet. ' De Sext. Cons. Hon. 515. From Narni the road runs through the defile along the middle of the declivity, till suddenly, the opposite mountain seems to burst asunder, and opens through its shaggy sides an extensive view over the plain of the Tiber, terminating in the mountains of Viterbo. Here we left the defile and the Nar, but continued to enjoy mountain and forest scenery for some miles, till descending the last declivity, a few miles from Otricoli, for the first time in the midst of a spacious and verdant plain, we beheld clear and distinct, glittering in the beams of the sun, and winding along in silent dignity-the Tiber. Otricoli stands on the side of a hill, about two miles from the ancient Ocriculi, whence it takes its name. The remains of the Then Narnia, fam'd for spreading prospects, feels The trampling of th' imperial courser's heels. Hard by, a river of unwonted hue, From which her name th' adjacent city drew, By wood-crown'd hills, its whit'ning waters wind. Θύμβρις ἑλισσόμενος καθαρὸν ῥόον εἰς ἄλα βάλλει Dionys. ΠΕΡΙΗΓΗΣΙΣ. The lovely Tiber through the spacious plain Great Prince of streams, through mighty Rome that flows, And parts the Sov`reign City as he goes, Rome, wealth's abode, and empire's honor'd seat, The Queen of cities, and the World's retreat. latter lie spread, in the plain below, along the banks of the Tiber, and present a considerable heap of fragments, in which the vestiges of a theatre perhaps, and a few porticos may be perceived, while the principal features of the town are lost, and buried in a confused mass of ruins. We had now not only traversed the Apennines, but extricated ourselves from the various labyrinths and defiles which border the immense base of these mountains. The windings of the Tiber below Otricoli have been alluded to by Ariosto, who seems to have beheld one particular spot, a sort of peninsula formed by the meanderings of the stream, with partiality; but either his muse has shed supernumerary beauties around it, or the shades that adorned the banks in his time have disappeared; as it now presents a green but naked surface almost encircled by the waves. Ecco vede un pratel d' ombre coperto Che si d' un alto fiume si ghirlanda Che lascia a pena un breve spazio aperto, Un simil luogo con girevol onda Sott' Otricoli 'l Tevere circonda.-Canto xiv. 38. We crossed the Tiber by the Ponte Felice, changed horses at Borghetto, and arrived, when dark, at Civita Castellana. From Civita Castellana we passed over a tract of forest country, enjoying beautiful views of the Montes Cimini, with their towns, villas, and villages to the right, and an occasional glimpse of Soracte to the left, and having passed the river Falisco, which anciently gave its name to the people and territory of the Falisci, came to Nepi, a small but very ancient episcopal town, whose cathedral, built on the site of a temple, was consecrated, if we may believe an inscription over one of the doors, by the blood of the townsmen, in the early period of the year 150. Another inscription may record, with more certainty, though perhaps posterity may be as little inclined to credit it, that the same pile was deluged with the blood of its clergy, and almost entirely destroyed by the French army in the year 1798. From Nepi we proceeded to Monte Rosi. The inhabitants of all this territory, who derived their names from its towns, some of which still remain, are enumerated in the following lines of Silius : His mixti Nepesina cohors, æquique Falisci, A mead he spies, with trees o'erarching crown'd, So girded by a circling river round, That scarce a narrow isthmus may remain, Ere the broad waters downward turn again : Such spot below Otricoli we find, Where Tiber's tortuous waves in mazes wind, Stagna tenent, Ciminique lacum; qui Sutria tecta Lib. viii. 489. Many authors suppose that the road hence, or rather from Ponte Felice, was lined by a succession of magnificent edifices, obelisks, and palaces, adorned with statues, and conducted under triumphal arches, to the gates of the imperial city. Claudian indeed seems to encourage this supposition, in the well-known lines, Inde salutato libatis Tibride nymphis, De Sext. Cons. Hon. 520. If this description be accurate, it is singular that no trace should now remain of all these splendid monuments. No mounds nor rėmnants of walls, no mouldering heaps of ruins, scarce even a solitary tomb, has survived the general wreck. On the contrary, beyond Nepi, or rather, beyond Monte Rosi the next stage, the Campagna di Roma begins to expand its dreary solitudes; and naked bills and swampy plains rise and sink by turns, without presenting a single object worth attention. It must not, however, be supposed, that no vegetation decorates these dreary wilds. On the contrary, verdure but seldom interrupted, occasional corn fields, and numerous herds and flocks, communicate some degree of animation to these regions otherwise so desolate; but descending from mountains the natural seat of barrenness, where still we witnessed rural beauty and high cultivation, to a plain in the neighborhood of a populous city, where we might naturally expect the perfection of gardening and all the bustle of life, we were struck with the wide waste that spreads around, and wondered what might be the cause that deprived so extensive a tract of its inhabitants. But neatness and population announce the neighborhood of every common town; they are the usual accompaniments of capitals, and excite no interest. The solitude that encircles the fallen Metropolis of the world, is singular and grand; it becomes its majesty; it awakens a sentiment of awe and melancholy, and may perhaps after all, be e more consonant both to the character of the City, and to the feelings of the traveller, than more lively and exhilarating scenery. With these the just Fallsci troop'd along, Hawkins' Translation. .. On the heights above Baccano the postilions stopped, and pointing to a pinnacle that appeared between two hills, exclaimed, "Roma!"—That pinnacle was the cross of St. Peter's. The "ETERNAL CITY" rose before us! CHAPTER X. Reflections-Rome-St. Peter's-The Capitol. As the traveller advances over the dreary wilds of the Campagna, where not one object occurs to awaken his attention, he has time. to recover from the surprise and agitation, which the first view of Rome seldom fails to excite in liberal and ingenuous, minds. He may naturally be supposed to inquire into the cause of these emotions, and at first he may be inclined to attribute them solely to the influence of early habits, and ascribe the feelings of the man, to the warm imagination of the schoolboy. Without doubt the Rome echoes in our ears from our infancy; our lisping tongues are tuned to her language; and our first and most delightful years are passed among her orators, poets, and historians. We are taught betimes to take a deep interest in her fortunes, and to adopt her cause, as that of our own country, with spirit and with passion. Such impressions made at such an age are indelible, and it must be admitted, are likely to influence our feelings and opinions during life. But the prejudices instilled into the mind of the boy, and strengthened by the studies of the youth, are neither the sole nor even the principal causes of our veneration for Rome. The Mistress of the World claims our respect and affection, on grounds which the Christian and the philosopher must admit with grateful acknowledgment. In addition to her ancient origin and venerable fame, to her mighty achievements and vast empire, to her heroes and her saints, to the majesty of her language, and the charms of her literature; "habe ante oculos hanc esse terram quæ nobis miserit jura, quæ We may apply to every youth of liberal education, the beautiful lines addressed by Claudian to Honorius: To thee, as youth advanc'd, more dear appear'd,—Hawkins' Translation. |