by the Tiber itself, still a very noble river. We passed it, a little after sun-set, and began to ascend the mountains of Perugia, where we arrived about ten o'clock. I need not inform the reader that on crossing the Tiber we re-entered Etruria. Perugia, anciently Perusia, is one of the most ancient and most distinguished cities of Etruria; the era of its foundation long preceded that of Rome, and like the origin of Clusium Cortona, &c. is almost lost in distance of time. In conjunction with all the other Etrurian states it long resisted the Romans, and when subjected, or rather reconciled to them, it became a faithful and a courageous ally; it defied the power of Hannibal, and flourished in peace and opulence till the reign of Augustus, when unfortunately it engaged in the rebellion of Lucius Antonius, uncle of the Triumvir, and under his command shut its gates against Augustus who took it, and as it is reported, wished to spare it; but one of its principal citizens setting fire to his own house, which he intended as a funeral pile for himself and his family, the flames communicated to the neighbouring buildings, and spreading rapidly around, reduced the city to ashes. Perugia however rose immediately from its ruins; and on its restoration, by a strange inconsistency, chose for its patron Vulcan, a divinity to whom it seems to have had very few obligations, as the god had spared his own temple only in the general conflagration. In the Gothic war it displayed much spirit, and stood a siege of seven years against these barbarians. It afterwards with the whole Roman state submitted to the Pope, and with some intervals of turbulent independence has remained ever since attached to the Roman See. Perugia is now a large, clean, well-built, and well-inhabited city. Seated on the summit of a mountain, it commands from its ramparts, and particularly from its citadel, an extensive view over a vast range of country, fertile, varied with hill and dale, and enlivened with villages and towns. In this rich landscape the plain which we had traversed made a very conspicuous figure, watered by the Clitumnus, and bounded by the Apennines. There are many churches, convents, and palaces in this city, most of which were adorned with the paintings of Pietro Perugino, the master of Raffaello; of these the French carried off a considerable number, and defaced others, particularly such as were painted on walls and could not be removed. The cathedral is in itself a very indifferent edifice, and its deformity is increased by the bad taste that seems to have prevailed in its repair and decorations. Several other churches merit attention, particularly that of S. Pietro, belonging to a Benedictine abbey; it is supported by eighteen pillars of fine marble, and adorned with an altar of the same materials very rich and well disposed. Perugia has an university supplied with able professors, and several academies, all of which can boast of illustrious names, and it is upon the whole an interesting city, capable of entertaining the curious and inquisitive traveller for several days. The road from hence is over a hilly country, planted principally with olive trees, and of course not very shady. Descending the high hill of Magiona we first discovered, gleaming through a wood of oaks, the lake Trasimenus, and at the village of Torricelli at the foot of the hill we found ourselves on its banks. This lake is a very noble expanse of water, about ten miles in length and about seven in breadth. Three little islands rise in it, the largest and the least about a mile from the northern shore, the other near the southern extremity. The name of this island is Polvese. The two others are denominated from their size Minore and Maggiore; the latter is adorned with a church. The banks of the lake ascend gradually, but in some places rapidly, from its margin; and as they are clad with wood and speckled with villages form an outline both bold and lively*. But if in extent and beauty the lake Trasimenus yield to many, in celebrity it is inferior to none; the fall of fifteen thousand Romans and the death of a consul ennoble its name, and cast an awful solemnity over its scenery. From Torricelli the road winds along the margin of the lake to a village called Passignano, which occupies a very narrow defile, closed on one side by the lake, on the other by a rocky precipice. Beyond this defile the road crosses a plain, bounded by the lake on the left, and on the right by a semicircular ridge of hills and mountains. This ridge, which falls back in the centre, advances again on the sides, and closes on the lake. at Passignano in a precipice; and at Borghetto in a lofty acclivity. The plain thus enclosed is about six miles in length, that is, from the former to the latter of these places, and about four in breadth from the lake to the mountains. Hannibal could not have discovered or even have desired a situation more favorable to stratagem and ambush. In the centre of this plain he encamped at the head of his African and Spanish troops; the Baleares and light armed forces he placed in the recesses of the mountains all around, while his cavalry were commissioned to occupy the defile on the rear of the Romans, as soon as they had passed through it. The consul entered by Borghetto with his characteristic rashness and impetuosity, and hastened to attack the army which he beheld in front; when a sudden shout bursting around informed him that he was beset on all sides; a thick mist rising from the lake darkened the air; noise, confusion, dismay, defeat, and slaughter followed. The return of sunshine shewed the ground strewed with the bodies of the Romans, and the lake crimsoned with their blood*. A streamlet, which nearly intersects the plain in the middle, still retains the name of Sanguineto or Fossa del Sangue, is supposed to water the spot where the consul fell, and is said by the peasants to have rolled a torrent of blood to the Trasimenus, and impurpled its waters to a considerable distance. This rill is the most popular and perhaps the most permanent memorial of this disastrous battle; it is known and pointed out by every peasant and driver, and contemplated by all with some degree of horror. To throw a certain gloom and melancholy over the scenes of human destruction is natural to the mind, and usual in all countries. It is reported, that after sunset a sound like the clashing of shields and the onset of distant armies is heard on the plain of Marathon at Neerwindent a countryman assured me that strange * Livius XXII. 4, 5, 6-for a poetical description see Sil. lib. v. + Near Louvain, where the French under Dumourier were defeated by the noises were often heard on the plains at night; and near Tewkesbury, a close where the greatest number of the Lancastrians were massacred, is still called the bloody field, and supposed by the people to be haunted by spectres. Ingemuisse putes campos, terramque nocentem Lucan vII. 769. The Sanguineto, when we passed it, was the dry bed of a torrent, lined with vines above the road; and below it, toward the lake, shaded with poplars. About two miles farther we turned from the lake, and began to ascend the bold wooded hill of Gualandro. From its summit we enjoyed a beautiful and extensive view, behind, of the lake, its islands, and its wooded borders; and before, of the plain of Arezzo, the Valle de Chiana, and the hills of Viterbo, with the truncated cone of Monte Pulciano. This wide and varied view was lighted by the richest and softest tints of an Italian summer's evening. Descending the declivity we passed through the village of Ossaia, said, like the Fossa del Sanguine, to take its name from the slaughter of the battle, and the bones dug up by the peasantry in the neighbouring fields. An inscription over the door of a house announces the origin Austrians, commanded by the Prince of Saxe Cobourg, in the month of March, 1793. |