The Traveller.

Otago Witness, Issue 1596, 24 June 1882, Page 27

The Traveller.

ROME.

The approach to Rome from tho south, over a portion of the pampagna, is very impressive. On the right rise tho grand masses of the Alban and the Sabine Mountains, sprinkled with towns and villages lying among their spurs, or climbing up. their shaggy sides, or pitched upon their summits; while above them are visible'the snowy poaks of the Appenines, glittering like polished silver in the sun.' Par away to the left stretches the green plain of the Campagna, wearing its most winning robe of 'spring verdure, dotted with herds of the large mouse>culdured and long-horned oxen which ai s e peculiar to this region ; and darkened In places by masses of brown masonry-^tho ruins of the magnificent aqueduct constructed by the Emperor Claudius, 52 years after the death' of Christ, for the purpose of bringing water into Rome from Subiaco,,up among the hills, a distance of (52 miles. In the distance rises the august dome of St. Peter's ; no other object in the city is visible. Its towers and temples, its palaces and campaniles dojnof break the lino of the horizon. It is interrupted and dominated by 1 the masterly creation of the genius of Michael Angelo, which fixes your attention and fills your thoughts, '■> Arrived at the railway-station, you find yourself in New Rome— another city which has grown up' on three, of its hills (the Esquilines, the Vinikalis,' a*nd. the Quirinalis) during the last 20' years. Broad, rectangular streets, composed' of lofty buildings five, six, or seven well paved and well lighted, with tramway-cars, omnibuses, private carriages, and nacres filling the 'busy thoroughfare, and' the broad footpaths teeming with passengers, cause you to ask yourself, "Is it possible that lam in Rome ?" But the question is effectively answered next morning ' when you sally out from your hotel and descend into the heart of the city through the Piazza Barberini. Then you .plunge into a labyrinth of narrow streets, without footpaths, and with barely room enough for two vehicles to pass abreast, flanked .by tall houses, churches, monasteries, palaces, theatres, shops, cafe's, dining-rooms, &c, among which it is almost certain you will lose iyour' way, even with the aid of 'a good map. ,The Via del 'Corso, which runs in a riortheiiy direction from a spacious and irregularly-shaped •piazza in about the centre of the city, is one of ■the very few straight ' streets in' old Rome. a mile" long, it is' of irregular width— jbroadening insome places and contracting in pothers— with extremely narrow footpaths, and .'is lined with the best shop's in the place ; ;so ' that it is" at once the Cheapside, jthe Fleet street, arid, the ' Regent street of ' Rome. ' Its terminus is the Piazza jdel 'Popolo, upon which als'd converge the Via jdel Babuinao, running info the Piazza del ■Spagna, which 'is the centre of the artists' iquarter, the Via di Ripetta, which follows the -course of the Tiber as far as the Borghese 'Palace: The Piazza del Popolo' is one of the 1 jmost remarkable localities in Rome. You lenter it ,fr6'm the Corso, between the "twin those of St. [Maria, in Monte 1 Santo, 'iand St; Maria 1 de Miracb'li, eadh of, 1 which, with fits dome and vestibule, is 1 the counterpart of tthe other. In the centre of the square rises the i large obelisk 'of red granite j nearly a hundred 1 feet high, which formerly adorned the Temple |of the Sun at Heliopohs ' in Egypt. At its (base are four lions spouting water into a large' ? basin. Sylla is 1 buried beneath this square,' | and through' the' gate on the opposite side to' 'where we are stahding came' Constantino in • triumph from the battle of Pons Milvius, ;and' Galba with' 'his Spanish legions, and 2 Vitellius from GauL There spread the ancient jCampus Martitis, and where, on the right hand I side of the gate, the , Church of St. Maria' del i Popolo now stands, the infamous men, found a 1 dishonourable graVe. On the same side is a ] succession of terraced gardens' and zig-zag s drive's conducting 1 to 1 the' beautiful Pincean j Hill, 'facing which • are two columns adorned i with rostra, removed hither from the Temple s of Venus and Roma, near the 1 Colosseum; ! above them a row of statues representing cap- • tive Daceans ; and higher still a copious fountain, 'flowing from an antique basin ; and above this a handsome loggia, containing, an equestrian 'statue of Victor Emmanuel^ and the . parapet of this serves as the low wall of the ; terrace of the lovely Pincean gardens, with their groves of > oak and ilex ; then green lawns and flowery pastures ; then pavilionß and the busts of illustrious Italians which fringe the parks. There a fine military band plays on Sunday and Thursday afternoons, and the place is a favourite drive of the Queen and of the Roman nobility, and a popular resort for all classes. The view from the gardens embraces nearly the whole of the city, with the green valley of the Tiber and the villacovored hills beyond. What you look upon is mostly mediaeval Rome, although tho Castle of St. Angelo, which bulks so large in the middle distance, dates from the time of the Emperor Hadrian, who erected it as a mausoleum for himself. If you descend to the piazza below, and take a three-halfpenny omnibus to San ( Lorenzo, in Lucina, half-way up the Corso, you can then enter another omnibus, by which you will reach St. Peter's. After having crossed the bridge of St. Angelo you approach the Cathedral by a mean and narrow street, known as the - Borgo Vecchio ; and entering the Piazza Rusticucci, you see be* fore you what Gibbon called "the most glorious temple ever raised to religion." It is, indeed, one of those majestic edifices which exceed, instead of disappointing, expectation. It has been planned and executed on such a scale of colossal magnitude— everything in and around it is so grandiose— the majestic colon- i nade, the enormous obelisk in the centre, the stupendous fountains at the side, the flights of I .steps leading to the portico, the magnificent ! proportions of the dome, and the gigantic statues 'on the summit of the faQade— that you feel as if you were looking upon the architectural bequest of a nobler and a larger race of men. Nothing more true than that which I Byron wrote of it >:— Butthon, of temples old or altars now, Standest alone, with nothing like lo theo - Worthiest of God, the holy and the true. Nor is it until you begin to reflect upon the fact that the pillars of the gilt bronze balj Jacehino underneath the dome— a .structure which appears bo ainall when looked down upon from the lautorn— arc higher than the Tanese Palace, one of the loftiest structures of the kind in Romn, that you can form even an approximately accurate estimate of the vastness of St. Peter's and of everything connected with it. Classic Rome lies for the mciht part upon the other aide of the Tiber, with Palatine Hill as itb centre, and the capitol, the E.squilino, the Avertine, and Mount Calius as its circumference.. You can scarcely call it venerable, in its dilapidation and decay, [ts romaiud have, bi\m v> despoiled of their splendour and be.uify, so de,f.icod by time, so battered by the hand o) man, and so wasted and weather-stained by tho elements, as to j v/oov a shabby, a din'?-/, and ;i. dirty look, j TheU^laceof the C^sara is an nj^io^ationof , onnrmouy ju"<imU '.|<on lb; ..i-a.^K ? o/ which , onuigo U'<?Cb Uos-koo and iioar friul, ,->, nd gardens oiler Choir tribulu o£ frttgttuiou'aud colour j

to the sun ;">hile, far below, tiers upon tiers of vaulted chambers have been excavated. In some of these the frescoes are still visible on the'walls, while the mosaic pavements remain intact. And so with the enormous baths of Diooletian, Titus, Caracalla, and the rest, in one of which from two to three thousand persons could bathe at once. They are for the most part shapeless masses of bricks and mortar, stripped of their marble coverings and their sumptuous ornaments in statuary, frescoes, and mosaics, and conveying nothing to the mind but an impression of their former vasiaiess. Thus it is, also, with the Colosseum. It is the skeleton of a Titan, imposing in his monstrous dimensions, but donuded of all that imparted an air of grandeur to his overpowering bulk. And one may well echo the exclamation — Alas ! developed, opens the r'eeay Wheu the colossal fabric's form is raised, It will not bear the brightness of the day, Which streams too much in all years man havo reft away. ' ' ( Elsewhere, in all sorts >of unsuspected' placos, and often in the most miserable neighbourhoods, fragments of old Eomo stare you in the face. Here you find blacksmiths' forges burrowing, as it were, in the blackened walls of the Theatre of Marcellus, hard by tho Piazza Montanara, where the peasants from the country congregate on Sunday mornings. Elsewhere you nnd the stately Mausoleum of Augustus converted into a modern circus. In one place you see old women frying fish or roasting chestnuts between two sunken • pillars, of which the _ capitals still attest their former elegance, and in another •you will perceive a donkey-driver who ;has brought ' in a track-load of Alpine straw berries from the far-oil' hills; "watering hi« animal at a marble • trough which once served as the bath of a Roman beauty in the time of .the Caesars. Then, again, you will come upon a huge square tower, erected for offensive and defensive purposes in the Middle Ages. And as for churches, their name is legion : the Virgin Mary alone has upwards' of 40 erected in her honour. And ' as to fountains, they abound in every quarter of the city. It 'is not "water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink," as in the "Ancient Mariner," but a profusion of the pure element always flowing forth, alwaysjaccessible, always cool, and always whispering to you, 1 in its brightness, and freshness, and purity, of its distant sources high I up in the mountains, where the snow lies in the winter months, and the cold earth gives forth :in perennial streams a precious supply of sparkIling water for the use of the 300,000 inhabitants i of the Eternal City. .'•'''