Travels Through France And Italy by Tobias Smollett (fastest ebook reader .txt) 📕

Insolence And Importunity: For This Is Not So Disagreeable As

Their Revenge Is Dangerous. An English Gentleman At Florence Told

Me, That One Of Those Fellows, Whom He Had Struck For His

Impertinence, Flew At Him With A Long Knife, And He Could Hardly

Keep Him At Sword's Point. All Of Them Wear Such Knives, And Are

Very Apt To Use Them On The Slightest Provocation. But Their Open

Attacks Are Not So Formidable As Their Premeditated Schemes Of

Revenge; In The Prosecution Of Which The Italians Are Equally

Treacherous And Cruel.

This Night We Passed At A Place Called Radicofani, A Village And

Fort, Situated On The Top Of A Very High Mountain. The Inn Stands

Still Lower Than The Town. It Was Built At The Expence Of The

Last Grand-Duke Of Tuscany; Is Very Large, Very Cold, And

Uncomfortable. One Would Imagine It Was Contrived For Coolness,

Though Situated So High, That Even In The Midst Of Summer, A

Traveller Would Be Glad To Have A Fire In His Chamber. But Few,

Or None Of Them Have Fireplaces, And There Is Not A Bed With

Curtains Or Tester In The House. All The Adjacent Country Is

Naked And Barren. On The Third Day We Entered The Pope's

Territories, Some Parts Of Which Are Delightful. Having Passed

Aqua-Pendente, A Beggarly Town, Situated On The Top Of A Rock,

From Whence There Is A Romantic Cascade Of Water, Which Gives It

The Name, We Travelled Along The Side Of The Lake Bolsena, A

Beautiful Piece Of Water About Thirty Miles In Circuit, With Two

Islands In The Middle, The Banks Covered With Noble Plantations

Of Oak And Cypress. The Town Of Bolsena Standing Near The Ruins

Of The Antient Volsinium, Which Was The Birth-Place Of Sejanus,

Is A Paultry Village; And Montefiascone, Famous For Its Wine, Is

A Poor, Decayed Town In This Neighbourhood, Situated On The Side

Of A Hill, Which, According To The Author Of The Grand Tour, The

Only Directory I Had Along With Me, Is Supposed To Be The Soracte

Of The Ancients. If We May Believe Horace, Soracte Was Visible

From Rome: For, In His Ninth Ode, Addressed To Thaliarchus, He

Says,

Vides, Ut Alta Stet Nive Candidum

Soracte--

You See How Deeply Wreathed With Snow

Soracte Lifts His Hoary Head,

But, In Order To See Montefiascone, His Eyesight Must Have

Penetrated Through The Mons Cyminus, At The Foot Of Which Now

Stands The City Of Viterbo. Pliny Tells Us, That Soracte Was Not

Far From Rome, Haud Procul Ab Urbe Roma; But Montefiascone Is 

Fifty Miles From This City. And Desprez, In His Notes Upon

Horace, Says It Is Now Called Monte S. Oreste. Addison Tells Us

He Passed By It In The Campania. I Could Not Without Indignation

Reflect Upon The Bigotry Of Mathilda, Who Gave This Fine Country

To The See Of Rome, Under The Dominion Of Which No Country Was

Ever Known To Prosper.

About Half Way Between Montefiascone And Viterbo, One Of Our

Fore-Wheels Flew Off, Together With A Large Splinter Of The Axle-Tree;

And If One Of The Postilions Had Not By Great Accident Been

A Remarkably Ingenious Fellow, We Should Have Been Put To The

Greatest Inconvenience, As There Was No Town, Or Even House,

Within Several Miles. I Mention This Circumstance, By Way Of

Warning To Other Travellers, That They May Provide Themselves

With A Hammer And Nails, A Spare Iron-Pin Or Two, A Large Knife,

And Bladder Of Grease, To Be Used Occasionally In Case Of Such

Misfortune.

The Mountain Of Viterbo Is Covered With Beautiful Plantations And

Villas Belonging To The Roman Nobility, Who Come Hither To Make

The Villegiatura In Summer. Of The City Of Viterbo I Shall Say

Nothing, But That It Is The Capital Of That Country Which

Mathilda Gave To The Roman See. The Place Is Well Built, Adorned

With Public Fountains, And A Great Number Of Churches And

Convents; Yet Far From Being Populous, The Whole Number Of

Inhabitants, Not Exceeding Fifteen Thousand. The Post-House Is

One Of The Worst Inns I Ever Entered.

After Having Passed This Mountain, The Cyminus Of The Antients,

We Skirted Part Of The Lake, Which Is Now Called De Vico, And

Whose Banks Afford The Most Agreeable Rural Prospects Of Hill And

Vale, Wood, Glade And Water, Shade And Sun-Shine. A Few Other

Very Inconsiderable Places We Passed, And Descended Into The

Campania Of Rome, Which Is Almost A Desert. The View Of This

Country In Its Present Situation, Cannot But Produce Emotions Of

Pity And Indignation In The Mind Of Every Person Who Retains Any

Idea Of Its Antient Cultivation And Fertility. It Is Nothing But

A Naked Withered Down, Desolate And Dreary, Almost Without

Inclosure, Corn-Field, Hedge, Tree, Shrub, House, Hut, Or

Habitation; Exhibiting Here And There The Ruins Of An Antient

Castellum, Tomb, Or Temple, And In Some Places The Remains Of A

Roman Via. I Had Heard Much Of These Antient Pavements, And Was

Greatly Disappointed When I Saw Them. The Via Cassia Or Cymina Is

Paved With Broad, Solid, Flint-Stones, Which Must Have Greatly

Incommoded The Feet Of Horses That Travelled Upon It As Well As

Endangered The Lives Of The Riders From The Slipperiness Of The

Pavement: Besides, It Is So Narrow That Two Modern Carriages

Could Not Pass One Another Upon It, Without The Most Imminent 

Hazard Of Being Overturned. I Am Still Of Opinion That We Excel

The Ancient Romans In Understanding The Conveniences Of Life.

The Grand Tour Says, That Within Four Miles Of Rome You See A

Tomb On The Roadside, Said To Be That Of Nero, With Sculpture In

Basso-Relievo At Both Ends. I Did See Such A Thing More Like A

Common Grave-Stone, Than The Tomb Of An Emperor. But We Are

Informed By Suetonius, That The Dead Body Of Nero, Who Slew

Himself At The Villa Of His Freedman, Was By The Care Of His Two

Nurses And His Concubine Atta, Removed To The Sepulchre Of The

Gens Domitia, Immediately Within The Porta Del Popolo, On Your

Left Hand As You Enter Rome, Precisely On The Spot Where Now

Stands The Church Of S. Maria Del Popolo. His Tomb Was Even

Distinguished By An Epitaph, Which Has Been Preserved By

Gruterus. Giacomo Alberici Tells Us Very Gravely In His History

Of The Church, That A Great Number Of Devils, Who Guarded The

Bones Of This Wicked Emperor, Took Possession, In The Shape Of

Black Ravens, Of A Walnut-Tree, Which Grew Upon The Spot;

From Whence They Insulted Every Passenger, Until Pope Paschal Ii.,

In Consequence Of A Solemn Fast And A Revelation, Went Thither

In Procession With His Court And Cardinals, Cut Down The Tree,

And Burned It To Ashes, Which, With The Bones Of Nero, Were

Thrown Into The Tyber: Then He Consecrated An Altar On The

Place, Where Afterwards The Church Was Built. You May Guess

What I Felt At First Sight Of The City Of Rome, Which,

Notwithstanding All The Calamities It Has Undergone, Still

Maintains An August And Imperial Appearance. It Stands On

The Farther Side Of The Tyber, Which We Crossed At The Ponte

Molle, Formerly Called Pons Milvius, About Two Miles From The

Gate By Which We Entered. This Bridge Was Built By Aemilius

Censor, Whose Name It Originally Bore. It Was The Road By Which

So Many Heroes Returned With Conquest To Their Country; By Which

So Many Kings Were Led Captive To Rome; And By Which The

Ambassadors Of So Many Kingdoms And States Approached The Seat Of

Empire, To Deprecate The Wrath, To Sollicit The Friendship, Or

Sue For The Protection Of The Roman People. It Is Likewise Famous

For The Defeat And Death Of Maxentius, Who Was Here Overcome By

Constantine The Great. The Space Between The Bridge And Porta Del

Popolo, On The Right-Hand, Which Is Now Taken Up With Gardens And

Villas, Was Part Of The Antient Campus Martius, Where The

Comitiae Were Held; And Where The Roman People Inured Themselves

To All Manner Of Exercises: It Was Adorned With Porticos,

Temples, Theatres, Baths, Circi, Basilicae, Obelisks, Columns,

Statues, And Groves. Authors Differ In Their Opinions About The

Extent Of It; But As They All Agree That It Contained The

Pantheon, The Circus Agonis, Now The Piazza Navona, The Bustum

And Mausoleum Augusti, Great Part Of The Modern City Must Be

Built Upon The Ancient Campus Martius. The Highway That Leads

From The Bridge To The City, Is Part Of The Via Flaminia, Which

Extended As Far As Rimini; And Is Well Paved, Like A Modern

Street. Nothing Of The Antient Bridge Remains But The Piles; Nor

Is There Any Thing In The Structure Of This, Or Of The Other Five 

Roman Bridges Over The Tyber, That Deserves Attention. I Have Not

Seen Any Bridge In France Or Italy, Comparable To That Of

Westminster Either In Beauty, Magnificence, Or Solidity; And When

The Bridge At Black-Friars Is Finished, It Will Be Such A

Monument Of Architecture As All The World Cannot Parallel. As For

The Tyber, It Is, In Comparison With The Thames, No More Than An

Inconsiderable Stream, Foul, Deep, And Rapid. It Is Navigable By

Small Boats, Barks, And Lighters; And, For The Conveniency Of

Loading And Unloading Them, There Is A Handsome Quay By The New

Custom-House, At The Porto Di Ripetta, Provided With Stairs Of

Each Side, And Adorned With An Elegant Fountain, That Yields

Abundance Of Excellent Water.

We Are Told That The Bed Of This River Has Been Considerably

Raised By The Rubbish Of Old Rome, And This Is The Reason Usually

Given For Its Being So Apt To Overflow Its Banks. A Citizen Of

Rome Told Me, That A Friend Of His Lately Digging To Lay The

Foundation Of A New House In The Lower Part Of The City, Near The

Bank Of The River, Discovered The Pavement