Rome in the Footsteps of an XVIIIth Century Traveller

George Stillman Hillard (1808-1879), a lawyer and politician from Boston, visited Italy when he was forty. In describing his passing examinations by the police and the custom-house officers at his entrance to the Papal State he says of himself: A testy and impatient Englishman, with little French and no Italian and at the end of his Roman stay: I had not the fear of Murray and Vasi before my eyes. Some of his remarks on events he attended in Rome have a personal tone which shows he did not rely only on guidebooks. It is likely that Mark Twain built upon Hillard's Six Months in Italy which was published in 1853 for his 1869 The Innocents Abroad.
Excerpts from George Stillman Hillard's Six Months in Italy in 1847-1848 related to Rome.

• Porta Cavalleggeri
• Artists in Rome
• Bonaparte family
• S. Pietro
• Monument to Pius VII
• Piazza S. Pietro
• Papal Pomp
• Laocoon
• Palazzo Belvedere and Braccio Nuovo
• Statue of the Nile
• Sarcophagus of Scipio
• Raphael at S. Agostino
• Fontana di Trevi
• S. Maria sopra Minerva
• S. Giovanni in Laterano
• Pantheon
• Villa Mills
• Campo Vaccino
• Colonna di Foca
• Jewish Ghetto
• Certosa
• Palazzo Spada
• Villa Albani
• Villa Torlonia
• Villa Doria Pamphilj
• Gardens of Villa Borghese
• Palazzo Zuccari
• Castello della Magliana
• Tor de' Schiavi
• Head of St. Andrew
• Illumination of St. Peter
• End of the Visit

Porta Cavalleggeri We reached Rome at midnight, entering it by the Porta Cavalleggieri, in the immediate neighborhood of St. Peter's. The night was dark and stormy, and just before reaching the gate the clouds gathered for a storm of thunder and lightning, which lasted for a considerable time. As we drove by St. Peter's, the dome and colonnade were revealed by gleams of lightning and then shrouded in gloom, and the dash of its fountains was heard mingled with the pattering of the heavy rain-drops.

Artists in Rome The artists in Rome form a numerous body, social in their tastes and gregarious in their habits. The distinctions of blood and speech give way under the fusing influence of a common devotion to the same pursuits. (..) The outward appearance of the whole class expresses a pursuit of the picturesque under difficulties. The hair and heard are taught to curl and wave in such a manner as to give, if possible, a romantic and ideal character to commonplace features. (..) They generally dine at the Lepri, in the Via Condotti, and take their coffee in the Cafe Greco, in the same street, a dark and dirty hole, reeking with the fumes of bad tobacco. Many of them add music to their other accomplishments, and in the evening their voices often gratefully break the deep silence of the streets of Rome.

Bonaparte family The present Prince of Canino, well-known for his successful devotion to science, is the son of Lucien Bonaparte. He married his cousin, the daughter of Joseph Bonaparte, and has a numerous family. He has been a good deal mixed up with the political changes in Rome since the accession of Pius IX., and is reputed to have shown much more activity than wisdom in public affairs.

S. Pietro St. Peter's growth and history embrace nearly three hundred and fifty years, from the time of Nicholas V., who began it in 1450, to that of Pius VI, who built the sacristy in 1780; and it expresses, not only the will of different popes, the tastes of successive architects, but the changes and revolutions of time itself.

Monument to Pius VII The great name of Thorwaldsen will naturally attract attention to the monument of Pius VII.; but it is hardly worthy the genius of this illustrious artist. The figures are good, but, as a whole, the design is formal and rectangular, and leaves an impression on the mind that the sculptor had not put his heart into his work.

Piazza S. Pietro I have seen this incomparable piazza under all conditions; in the blaze of an Italian noon; at the silence of midnight; swarming with carriages and foot-passengers; occupied by soldiers at their drill; and, under all, it retained the same aspect and character. It never seemed crowded: it never seemed desolate.

Papal Pomp The services in St. Peter's on Christmas day, in 1847, were attended by an immense concourse of people. Rome was at that time thronged by strangers from all parts of the world, and the zeal and interest of the native population were awakened anew by the universal enthusiasm inspired by Pius IX, at that time at the height of his short-lived popularity. It was indeed rather idolatry than popularity; and the wild hopes which he made to blossom in the susceptible hearts of his people were such as neither the highest capacity, nor the most favorable opportunities could have ripened into fruit. (..) The very defects of the church - its gay, secular, and somewhat theatrical character - were, in this instance, embellishments which enhanced the splendor of the scene. (..) In due season the pope appeared, seated in the "sedia gestatoria", a sort of capacious arm-chair, borne upon men's shoulders, flanked on either side by the enormous fan of white peacock feathers. He was carried up the whole length of the nave, distributing his blessing with a peculiar motion of the hand upon the kneeling congregation. It seemed by no means a comfortable mode of transportation, and the expression of his countenance was that of a man ill at ease, and sensible of the awkwardness and want of dignity of his position.

Laocoon There is something about the Laocoon which reminds one of Bernini; or of Bernini as he would have been had he been born a Greek.

Palazzo Belvedere and Braccio Nuovo Built at different periods, by various architects and for many purposes, it has no unity of plan and no uniformity of character. But no edifice presents so many fine architectural pictures; for such they may indeed be called, so wide are the spaces, so lofty the heights, so boundless the perspectives. (..) We learn here how noble is the effect produced by mere space. There is a perfect relation between the Vatican and its contents. (..) This noble hall is upwards of two hundred feet in length, and admirably lighted from a roof supported by Corinthian columns. It is impossible for works of sculpture to be better disposed, and, out of seventy-two busts and forty-three statues which are here, there is hardly one which is not excellent. (..) The first few visits to the Vatican leave the mind of the traveller in a state of whirl and confusion, producing at last entire exhaustion. (..) He naturally wishes to make a general survey of the whole, before descending to study the several details. He walks with resolute purpose right onward, hardly glancing at the innumerable objects of attraction around him, which are all postponed to a more convenient season; but, long before the great circuit is completed, his knees knock together with fatigue, and his worn brain refuses to receive any new impressions. But time and patience, which conquer all things, conquer the Vatican. At each visit something is gained.

Statue of the Nile The colossal group of the Nile is one of the most striking objects of this part of the museum. The principal figure is in a reclining posture, and represents a man in the ripe autumn of life, with a flowing beard and a grave expression, while around him sixteen children are sporting in every possible variety of attitude; some climbing on his knees; some clasping his neck; some nestling in his lap; some bestriding his arms; and some playing with his feet. Most of these little creatures are restorations, but they are very cleverly executed. They seem to be really enjoying the fun; and the "old gentleman" with whom they are frolicking appears like an indulgent grandpapa, surrendering himself to a game of romps with his grandchildren. The number sixteen is said to be in allusion to the sixteen cubits at which the rise of the river begins to irrigate the land.

Sarcophagus of Scipio In the room is one of the most interesting objects in Rome, - the sarcophagus of gray stone found in the tomb of the Scipios, the shape of which is so well known by the many copies which have been spread over the world. The works of the republic are not numerous in Rome; and this venerable monument attracts us as well by its antiquity, as by its association with the illustrious family whose name it bears. Impressive - as it is, it seemed out of place in this modern and airy room, so richly lighted and commanding so living a landscape. It was an exotic torn from its native soil. Half of its significance and meaning is lost by its being thrust upon the eye in the broad glare of noon, and surrounded by such different and exciting objects. How much better would it have been, had it been left in the gloom and silence of the vaulted niche for which it was prepared! How much more impressive would the simple inscription have been, if we had been compelled to spell it out, in sepulchral darkness, by the flickering light of a torch!

Raphael at S. Agostino In the church of San Agostino is also a fresco by Raphael, the prophet Isaiah between two angels. The prophet holds a roll in his hand, and the angels, a tablet; both containing inscriptions. This is not considered one of Raphael's happiest works. The shadow of Michael Angelo's genius was upon him at the time, and, in endeavoring to catch the peculiar style of his illustrious rival, he gave up some of his own characteristic traits without gaining a proper equivalent in return. He ceased, in some measure, to be Raphael, but did not succeed in becoming Michael Angelo.

Fontana di Trevi The several streams and jets are united, and, forming a fine cascade, flow over into a spacious basin, which is below the level of the piazza. This is the scene of the moonlight interview between Corinna and Oswald; (..) and, to this day, whenever the moon has touched the trembling waters with her silver rod, the mind's eye sees the shadows of the lovers resting upon the stream. (..) The Fontana di Trevi is in the heart of Rome. A mass of rocks is tumbled together at the base of the facade of an immense palace. In a large niche, in the centre of the facade, is a statue of Neptune in his car, the horses of which, with their attendant tritons, are pawing and sprawling among the rocks. On either side of Neptune, in a smaller niche, is an allegorical statue, and above the head of each of the statues is a bas-relief. All this is in bad taste, an incongruous blending of fact and fable, chilled by the coldest of allegories; but it sounds worse in description than it looks to the eye. (..) The water gushes up in sparkling and copious masses from the crevices between the rocks, spouts from the nostrils of the horses and the conchs of the tritons, and gives to the whole scene its own dancing and glittering beauty. The figures, human and animal, seem to be no more than men and horses enjoying their bath, and having a frolic at the same time. As we look, we begin with criticism, but we end with admiration.

S. Maria sopra Minerva Nothing recalling the sublime cathedrals of Germany, France, and England, is to be found in Rome. The only specimen of Gothic architecture - and that an indifferent specimen-- is the Church of Sta. Maria sopra Minerva.

S. Giovanni in Laterano The facade is of a style of architecture kindred to that of St. Peter's, but superior in beauty and simplicity; the perpendicular of the columns and pilasters, which support the massive entablature, being broken only by the horizontal line of the balconies, running across nearly in the middle. (..) The interior is rich and imposing, though not in the purest taste. The features of the basilica have disappeared; as the columns which once separated the nave from the aisles are imprisoned in piers, patched over with ornaments in stucco and marble. Twelve colossal statues of the apostles in marble - six on either hand - occupy niches scooped out of these piers.

Pantheon The interior is converted into a Christian church, a purpose to which its form and structure are not well adapted; and the altars and their accessories are not improvements in an architectural point of view. But in spite of this, (..) the interior still remains, with all its rare beauty essentially unimpaired. And the reason of this is that this charm is the result of form and proportion, and cannot be lost except by entire destruction. (..) The pavement of the Pantheon, composed of porphyry, pavonazzetto, and giallo antico, though constantly overflowed by the Tiber, and drenched by the rains which fall upon it from the roof, is the finest in Rome. There is an opening in the centre, through which the water entering by the dome is carried off into a reservoir. (..) The Pantheon has a peculiar interest in the history of art, as the burial place of Raphael. His grave was opened in 1833, and the remains found to be lying in the spot which Vasari had pointed out. Annibal Caracci and Cardinal Gonsalvi were also buried here.

Villa Mills The pert villa of an English gentlemen has intruded itself into the palace of the Caesars - as discordant an object to a sensitive idealist as the pink parasol of a lady's maid which put to flight the reveries of some romantic traveller, under the shadow of the great pyramid.

Campo Vaccino An unsightly piece of ground, disfeatured with filth and neglect, with a few ruins scattered over it, and two formal rows of trees running through it, is all that we see with the eye of the body. A few peasants wrapped in their mud-colored cloaks, a donkey or two, a yoke of the fine gray oxen of Italy, or, perhaps, a solitary wild-eyed buffalo, are the only living forms in a scene once peopled with wisdom, valor, and eloquence. Nothing gives a stronger impression of the shattering blows which have fallen upon the Eternal City than the present condition of the Forum. Mr. Cockerell, an English architect, has published a print which he calls the Restoration of the Forum, a crowded assemblage of temples, porticoes, and public structures, of rich and showy architecture; but, on the spot, I never could recall the past, nor see the natural relation between his architectural creation and the forlorn waste around me.

Colonna di Foca In the Forum, every foot of ground has been the field of antiquarian controversy. Every ruin has changed its name two or three times. (..) In all cases, indeed, accurate knowledge is not a gain. There is a solitary column in the Forum, which Byron calls 'the nameless column with a buried base', the history and origin of which were long unknown. Recent excavations have shown it to have been erected by the exarch Smaragdus to the Emperor Phocas, - the venal offering of a servile courtier to one of the most unmitigated monsters that ever stained the pages of history. Has not the column lost something of its charm? Before, there was a beauty and a mystery around it, - there was room for conjecture and food for fancy, - it was a voice that sounded from a dim and distant past, and therefore all the more impressive. But now the ideal light is vanished, and the column loses half its grace, since it speaks to us of the wickedness of tyrants and the weakness of slaves.

Jewish Ghetto At this moment there are nearly four thousand of them crowded together in this twisted knot of streets, where of sun and air they have not enough, and of water only too much; being always the first and greatest sufferers in those frequent inundations by which the Tiber vindicates its old reputation for turbulence and insubordination. (..) To this day, several times in the course of a year, a Jewish congregation is gathered together in the church of S. Angelo in Pescheria, and constrained to listen to a homily from a Dominican friar, to whom, unless his zeal have eaten up his good feelings and his good taste, the ceremony must be as painful as to his hearers. In the same spirit of vulgar persecution, there is upon the gable of a church, opposite one of the gates of the Ghetto, a fresco painting of the Crucifixion, and, underneath, an inscription in Hebrew and Latin, from the second and third verses of the sixty-fifth chapter of Isaiah: "I have spread out my hands all the day unto a rebellious people, which walketh in a way that was not good, after their own thoughts; a people that provoketh me to anger continually to my face."

Certosa The convent of the Certosa, with its spacious cloisters running round four sides of a square, and enclosing an open space of considerable extent. These cloisters are among the things for which we have reason to envy the old world. They are merely arcades, or piazzas, round a quadrangle, and seem to have been designed for the benefit of monastic institutions in hot climates; so that their inmates might have the advantage of air and exercise, without exposure to the sun. They are a proof of how much may be done in architecture by adherence to simplicity and loyalty to nature. (..) To a man of scholarly habits and imaginative temperament, these walks would be a constant source of refreshment and inspiration. The roof, the pavement, the wall, and the open arches, which look out into the quadrangle, afford ample scope to architectural invention; and the quadrangle itself may be a flower-garden, or a patch of green turf with a fountain in the centre. These cloisters blend together the beauty of art and the beauty of nature; the solemn monotony of stone and marble with the bloom and verdure which the touch of every spring renews. As the musing dreamer paces along, the enclosed landscape which he sees through the arched loopholes of his retreat assumes every moment a new aspect, and prevents the sense of sight from becoming torpid and unobservant by constantly falling upon the same combination of objects. In the centre of the square around which the cloisters of this church are built, is a fountain; and, overshadowing the fountain, is a group of three cypresses, which are said to have been planted by the hands of Michael Angelo. There were originally four, but one has been destroyed by lightning. They are of immense size, and strikingly picturesque; all the more so from the fact that they begin to show, in their broken outlines and in the gaps made in their verdurous bulk, the marks of time and decay. Dark, solitary, and motionless, they are vegetable monuments carved in green. The breeze does not bend their spiry tops, and they have no share in the life that beats in the pulses of the mountain pine. They look like a group of monks standing in bodily proximity, but mental isolation.

Palazzo Spada In the cortile is a curious piece of architectural jugglery, a covered portico with Doric columns, gradually diminishing in height, thus enhancing the real effect of the perspective. The success of the experiment is quite complete, for, though only about thirty feet in length, the portico seems to the eye to be at least twice as long; and, after walking through it and ascertaining its exact dimensions, we feel a little as if we had been imposed upon, somewhat in the same mood as when we learn that our compassion has been roused by a feigned tale of distress.

Villa Albani I visited this villa on the twenty-second day of February, with a numerous party prepared to enjoy and not to criticize. The day was of rare beauty, and the air full of that dreamy softness so characteristic of an Italian spring. The distant hills stood up in the clear air, with their waving outlines distinctly cut against the warm, blue sky. The sunshine turned the spray of the fountains into a substance dazzling as itself. Many flowers were already in bloom, and the day was warm enough to make the shadows attractive to the eye, and the sound of flowing and falling water musical to the ear. All of the party would have frankly confessed, I think, that the charm of the garden outweighed that of the collection. We lingered often and long, sometimes over a knot of violets, sometimes by a fountain, sometimes on the brink of a fairy lake to look at the mimic heaven reflected in its depths, sometimes under a tent-like roof of a foliage; and we left the scene with slow steps and oft-reverted glances.

Villa Torlonia The Villa Torlonia, about a mile beyond the Porta Pia, belongs to the great banker who taxes all the world that comes to Rome. The casino is a Grecian structure of some architectural pretension, but with the appearance of having been hastily and slightly built. The interior, with a singular disregard of the requisitions of a Roman climate, is cut up into a multitude of small, low rooms, which are lavishly adorned with costly marbles and mosaics, and with frescoes which are not exactly good, but undoubtedly the best that money can buy. Compared with the noble apartments, the spacious corridors, and the stately terraces of the Villa Albani, the general effect is poor and mean. (..) The large hall is a showy room, with marble columns and a mosaic copied from one at Palestrina, representing an inundation of the Nile. (..) In the grounds, which are not very extensive, are a great variety of objects, - an artificial ruin, two granite obelisks, a column, fountains, an amphitheatre, a Gothic stable, and a grotto with artificial stalactites. Wealth has been lavished with the most reckless profusion, but the expenditures of good taste have been upon a very parsimonious scale. There is a want of harmony, fitness, and proportion. Discordant objects are huddled together, as in the landscapes of a china teacup; and the whole effort suggests the combination of the wealth of a millionaire and the tastes of a cockney. (..) In a building in the garden is a theatre, quite pretty and tasteful in its arrangements, and large enough to accommodate an audience of eight hundred or a thousand persons.

Villa Doria Pamphilj The Villa Pamphili-Doria, beyond the Porta S. Pancrazio, is the most extensive of all the Roman villas; the grounds being nearly six miles in circumference. The principal building I never visited, and I believe it contains nothing very remarkable. The grounds around it form a very attractive place of resort, to which strangers are freely admitted at all reasonable hours. They are laid out with terraces, clipped avenues, walks of box, and formal beds of flowers; but the artificial character gradually disappears, and, in the more distant portions, the growth of bushes and trees is careless and natural. The surface of the soil is irregular, rising into elevations and depressed into valleys. From an open space, at no great distance from the casino, is one of the finest views of St. Peter's and the Vatican. The unsightly facade is on the other side and out of the way; the whole height of the church from the base to the dome, is taken in at a glance; and the dome itself puts on its grandest and sublimest aspect. Within the grounds is an artificial lake, ornamented by statues, and a mimic waterfall. The banks of this lake, on one side at least, are varied in surface and covered with what seems a natural growth of trees and underwood; and a pleasanter spot to dream away an hour in cannot be found in the neighborhood of Rome. The reverie inspired by the genius of the place will rarely be broken by the approach of human footsteps, but the falling water and the rustling foliage will supply sound and movement enough to awaken a sense of companionship, and quicken the flow of thought. But the ?nest ornaments of these grounds is a noble grove of pines, -- lofty and venerable, - whose spreading tops are so interwoven as to form a plain of sombre verdure high in the air.

Gardens of Villa Borghese The grounds, which are three miles in circuit, are thrown open to the public as freely as if they belonged to it. (..) As a place of resort, it is more popular with persons of modest condition among the Romans than with the favored classes. It was pleasant to note that the hospitality of the prince was never abused. Often as I was there, I never saw the smallest act of spoliation or indecorum. (..) Every one seemed to feel that the bounty thus extended involved a corresponding obligation, and comported himself accordingly. In these extensive grounds, every variety of taste will find its appropriate gratification. They contain many remains of ancient art scattered through them, such as sepulchral monuments, vases, statues whole or broken, and bas-reliefs, a temple, a hippodrome, or circus, a mock ruin, a pretty lake near the entrance, with a mimic waterfall, the delight of children indigenous and exotic, and two or three fountains. The sketcher and the lover of nature will be attracted by the rich masses of oak and laurel, the lines of funereal cypresses, and the broad, spreading canopies of the stone pine.

Palazzo Zuccari The house which stands at the point where the Via Sistina and the Via Gregoriana unite their converging lines was built and occupied by the brothers Zuccari. It is a spacious dwelling, beautifully situated, and at this moment one of the most desirable habitations in Rome.

Castello della Magliana About five miles from Rome, on the road to Ostia, is the Villa Magliana, a castellated building of somewhat striking aspect, with battlemented walls and a tower. The courtyard, adorned with a fountain, is entered through an imposing portal. Inscriptions upon the fountains and walls recall the names of Innocent VIII, and of Julius II, by whom the villa was built, and with whom it was a favorite place of resort. Leo X was also fond of it, and it is said that his death was caused by a cold caught here. (..) This villa, once the luxurious retreat of popes, is fallen from its high estate, and is no more than a humble farm-house. Its spacious rooms were filled with grain and other agricultural produce. Men in the garb of common laborers were lounging about; the courtyard was littered with straw and filth; and barn-door fowls were pecking and scratching around the fountain. Though I was there on a bright morning in spring, nothing could be more unattractive than the whole aspect of the place and its immediate neighborhood. The Tiber flowed near by through a monotonous country, and the dreary plains beyond presented nothing of interest to the eye.

Tor de' Schiavi The Torre di Schiavi, on one day in the year, is disturbed from its usual propriety of solitude and silence. It is the custom of the German artists resident in Rome to make this spot the scene, or rather the starting point, of an annual spring festival; combining the character of a picnic and a masquerade. Here is their place of rendezvous in the morning, and of gathering for their return in the evening. Here their first and last songs are sung, and the edicts of their leader are promulgated. On these occasions, the waste region puts on the gayest aspect, and blossoms like a bed of tulips. Some of the artists come in carriages, some on horseback, and some on donkeys. The number and variety of the costumes surpass the wildest visions of an inspired tailor. Every garment that was ever shaped or painted, from a Roman toga to an hussar's jacket, hats of all possible forms, colors, and decorations, and forests of gay banners, enliven the scene. The day is spent in the wildest and most exuberent frolic; rarely or never, however, degenerating into vulgar license or coarse excess, but preserving the flavor of wit and the spice of genuine enthusiasm.

Head of St. Andrew In March 1848, there was great consternation throughout Rome at the discovery that one of the treasures of St. Peter's Church, the head of St. Andrew, had been stolen, and evidently by some one familiar with the internal arrangements of the church. Such an event, in an ecclesiastical capital in which there was so little of business or politics to talk about, created as much sensation as the overthrow of the Bunker Hill Monument by an earthquake would, in Boston. Besides the horror which so sacrilegious an act awakened in every good Catholic, the theft involved a considerable pecuniary loss, for the head was enclosed in a silver case, set with jewels, valued at about twenty thousand dollars. A liberal reward was offered for the restoration of the relic, which was found on the last day of March, buried in a vinevard outside of the walls. The silver case and most of the jewels were also recovered. This happy event was ascribed by the common people to a miracle, but the clue to the discovery was undoubtedly given in the confessional. The next day, the bells all over the city rang out a peal of triumph, and in the evening there was a partial illumination of the dome of St. Peter's. But this was not a sufficient expression of gratitude, for, on the fifth of April, in the following week, the restored treasure was borne from the Church of St. Andrea della Valle to St. Peter's, with all the state and splendor which the Romish Church could command. The procession was as numerous and imposing, to say the least, as any that has been seen in modern times; for, besides the civil and ecclesiastical dignitaries who always appear officially on such occasions, it was increased by many who simply wished to gratify the Pope; since it was generally understood that he had been greatly disturbed at the loss, and equally rejoiced at its restoration. The relic was placed in a' glass case, on a kind of car, under a silken canopy. The chief place in the procession was occupied by the college of cardinals, with the Pope himself at their head. Besides these, there were the Roman nobles, the various religious orders, the parochial clergy, the members of the ecclesiastical colleges, the municipality of Rome, the guard of nobles, the newly organized civic guard, various recently formed clubs and associations, and, what was most characteristic of the general tone of feeling and most novel in a Roman procession, a band of ladies, of noble birth, dressed in black, their heads covered with veils, and carrying lighted tapers in their hands. The weather was fine; and as the splendid procession, so rich in variety and color, passed through the piazza of St. Peter's, which was filled with spectators on foot and in carriages, the effect was in the highest degree beautiful and imposing. The length of the procession, the superb costumes defying the most piercing power of daylight, the grand dimensions of the piazza itself, the noble architectural forms on either side, and the animation and interest which glowed in every countenance, covered and concealed the theatrical element, and left only a stately symbol, in which the grateful sense of a religious community put on an outward form, such as suited their susceptible temperament and their ever-hungry senses.

Illumination of St. Peter In the evening, a finer and fuller illumination of St. Peter's took place than on the previous week. This is one of those sights of which the reality surpasses all previous imagination. An illumination is always beautiful, but the enormous size of St. Peter's makes it sublime. The defects of the building are lost, and only its majestic outlines are traced in horizontal and perpendicular lines of fire. It looks like a glorified and transfigured structure, - such as paints itself upon the mind's eye after reading Bunyan's description of the New Jerusalem, - all made of light, and rising up to the sound of celestial music. The two points from which the illumination is seen to the greatest advantage are, the piazza in front of the church and the Pincian Hill. From the former, the magnificent spectacle is viewed in all its details and dimensions. Little is left for the imagination but every thing is addressed to the eye, that, bathed in a food of soft light, in which the whole space embraced within the colonnades is as bright as a noon-day sun, runs over with the keenest satisfaction the glowing lines which charm without dazzling. But, when viewed from the Pincian Hill, the effect is quite different. The imagination is impressed in proportion as the eye loses. The luminous dome becomes an aerial vision, floating between heaven and earth, - an arrested meteor, - which throws upon the dark sky the crimson light of a conflagration. The tremulous movement given to the flames of the lamps by the wind adds greatly to the effect. It seems as if a shower of stars had fallen upon the building, and were yet quivering and trembling with the shock. It was altogether like an exquisite vision, -something not of the earth,- and had we seen the radiant mystery slowly mounting upward and passing into the sky, it would have seemed no more than its natural and appropriate close.

End of the Visit My last days in Rome were darkened by the thought that the time of my departure was near at hand; and the striking points and localities, which had now become so familiar to me, seemed touched with gentler and softer lights, when I was about to see them no more. This was not all to be ascribed to the effect of custom and usage in toning down the thoughts, till they had become in unison with the grave strain of outward life. Something was due to that influence of the vernal season which is so distinctly felt in a city so surrounded with gardens, vineyards, and broad, green spaces. Besides, I had come to have the comfortable feeling of a boy who had ciphered through the arithmetic. I had not the fear of Murray and Vasi before my eyes. I was not haunted by visions of churches that had not been seen, and galleries that had not been visited. I could let the hours hear me where they would, and suffer the reins to drop from my hands. My last week was spent mostly in long walks around the city and its immediate neighborhood, with no other object than that of fastening to the memory as strongly as possible the forms which were so soon to be lost to the sight. I strolled through the grounds of the Villa Pamphili and Villa Borghese, which were now bright with the green, and starred with the blossoms, of spring, and heard for the last time the voices of the aerial spirits that live in their venerable pines.

Travellers covered in this section

• Introductory page
• Gregory Martin's "Roma Sancta", a description of Christian Rome in 1581
• Fynes Moryson's An Itinerary: Containing His Ten Years Travel .. in Italy .. in 1594
• John Evelyn's Diary and Correspondence related to his stay in Rome in 1644
• Francis Mortoft's Journal of his travels in France and Italy in 1659
• John Ray's Observations (..) made in a journey through part of (..) Italy in 1663
• Richard Lassels' The Voyage of Italy, or a Compleat Journey through Italy in ca 1668
• Joseph Addison's Remarks on several parts of Italy, in the years 1701, 1702, 1703
• Jonathan and Jonathan Richardson's Account of Some of the Statues, etc. in Italy - 1722
• Edward Wright's Observations made in France, Italy &c. in the years 1720, 1721 and 1722.
• Excerpts from John Dyer's The Ruins of Rome written in 1740
• Thomas Gray's Letters from France and Italy in 1739-1741
• James Boswell's Letters on the Grand Tour in 1765
• Tobias Smollett's Travels through France and Italy in 1765
• John Moore's View of Society and Manners in Italy (in 1775) - publ. 1781
• John Chetwode Eustace's Classical Tour of Italy (in 1802) - publ. 1813
• Joseph Forsyth's Remarks on Antiquities, Arts, and Letters in Italy in 1802-1803
• John Cam Hobhouse's Dissertations on the Ruins of Rome in 1818
• Henry Matthews' Diary of an Invalid (in 1817-1818)
• Anna Jameson's Diary of an Ennuyée (in 1821-1822) - publ. 1826
• William Hazlitt's Notes of a Journey Through France and Italy in 1824-1825
• Samuel Rogers' Italy - publ. in 1830 with illustrations by J.M. William Turner
• Hans Christian Andersen's The Improvisatore - 1834 (Engl. translation 1845)
• George Stillman Hillard's Six Months in Italy in ca 1847-1848

Read What Dante Saw.
Read What Goethe Saw.
Read What Lord Byron Saw.
Read What Charles Dickens Saw.
Read What Henry James Saw.
Read What Mark Twain Saw.
Read What William Dean Howells Saw.
Read Dan Brown's Spaghetti Bolognaise (excerpts from Angels and Demons)