Or If It Was, The Circuit Of The Walls Is
So Extensive, That It Would Require A Garrison Of Twenty Thousand
Men.
The only appearance of a fortification in this city, is the
castle of St. Angelo, situated on the further bank of the Tyber,
to which there is access by a handsome bridge:
But this castle,
which was formerly the moles Adriani, could not hold out half a
day against a battery of ten pieces of cannon properly directed.
It was an expedient left to the invention of the modern Romans,
to convert an ancient tomb into a citadel. It could only serve as
a temporary retreat for the pope in times of popular commotion,
and on other sudden emergencies; as it happened in the case of
pope Clement VII. when the troops of the emperor took the city by
assault; and this only, while he resided at the Vatican, from
whence there is a covered gallery continued to the castle: it can
never serve this purpose again, while the pontiff lives on Monte
Cavallo, which is at the other end of the city. The castle of St.
Angelo, howsoever ridiculous as a fortress, appears respectable
as a noble monument of antiquity, and though standing in a low
situation, is one of the first objects that strike the eye of a
stranger approaching Rome. On the opposite side of the river, are
the wretched remains of the Mausoleum Augusti, which was still
more magnificent. Part of the walls is standing, and the terraces
are converted into garden-ground. In viewing these ruins, I
remembered Virgil's pathetic description of Marcellus, who was
here intombed.
Quantos ille virum, magnum mavortis ad urbem.
Campus aget gemitus, vel que Tyberine, videbis
Funera, cum tumulum, preter labere recentem.
Along his Banks what Groans shall Tyber hear,
When the fresh tomb and funeral pomp appear!
The beautiful poem of Ovid de Consolatione ad Liviam, written
after the ashes of Augustus and his nephew Marcellus, of
Germanicus, Agrippa, and Drusus, were deposited in this
mausoleum, concludes with these lines, which are extremely
tender:
Claudite jam Parcae nimium reserata sepulchra;
Claudite, plus justo, jam domus ista patet!
Ah! shut these yawning Tombs, ye sister Fates!
Too long unclos'd have stood those dreary Gates!
What the author said of the monument, you will be tempted to say
of this letter, which I shall therefore close in the old stile,
assuring you that I ever am, - Yours most affectionately.
LETTER XXXI
NICE, March 5, 1765
DEAR SIR, - In my last I gave you my opinion freely of the modern
palaces of Italy. I shall now hazard my thoughts upon the gardens
of this country, which the inhabitants extol with all the
hyperboles of admiration and applause. I must acknowledge
however, I have not seen the famous villas at Frascati and
Tivoli, which are celebrated for their gardens and waterworks. I
intended to visit these places; but was prevented by an
unexpected change of weather, which deterred me from going to the
country.
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