CHAPTER XXIV.
_A beautiful Country.--Magnificent Scenery.--The Approach toAlbano.--Enthusiasm of the Boys.--Archaeology versus Appetite.--TheSeparation of the Boys.--The Story of the Alton Lake and theancient subterranean Channel._
As they rolled along the road on this last stage of their eventfuljourney, they were all in the highest spirits. On to Rome! wasthe watchword. It was a glorious day; the sun shone brightly froma cloudless sky; the air was pure, and brilliant, and genial, andit also had such a wonderful transparency that distant objectsseemed much nearer from the distinctness with which their outlineswere revealed. The road was a magnificent one,--broad, well paved,well graded,--and though for some miles it was steadily ascending,yet the ascent was made by such an easy slope, that it was reallyimperceptible; and they bowled along as easily and as merrily asif on level ground. Moreover, the scenery around was of the mostattractive character. They were among the mountains; and thoughthere were no snow-clad summits, and no lofty peaks lost amid theclouds, still the lowering forms that appeared on every side werefull of grandeur and sublimity. Amid these the road wound, and, atevery new turn some fresh scene of beauty or of magnificence wasdisclosed to their admiring eyes. Now it was a sequestered valley,with a streamlet running through it, and the green of its surfacediversified by one or two white cottages, or the darker hue ofolive groves and vineyards; again it was some little hamlet far upthe sloping mountain-side; again some mouldering tower would appear,perched upon some commanding and almost inaccessible eminence--theremains of a feudal castle, the monument of lawless power overthrownforever. Sometimes they would pass through the street of a town,and have a fresh opportunity of contrasting the lazy and easy-goinglife of Italy with the busy, energetic, restless, and stirring lifeof their own far-distant America.
On to Rome!
This day was to land them in the "Eternal City;" and though theyenjoyed the drive, still they were eager to have it over, and tofind themselves in that place which was once the centre of theworld's rule, and continued to be so for so many ages. Theirimpatience to reach their destination was not, however, excessive,and did not at all prevent them from enjoying to the utmost thejourney so long as it lasted. Uncle Moses was the only exception.He was most eager to have it over, and reach some place of rest.True, no accident had happened; but he had gone through enoughtribulation, both in body and in mind, to furnish the working,material for a dozen very serious accidents indeed; and the generaleffect produced upon him was precisely what might have resultedfrom a really perilous journey.
At length they arrived at the town of Albano, where they intendedto remain two hours, and afterwards resume their journey. The townstood on the side of a hill, and the hotel at which they drew upwas so situated that it commanded a boundless view.
Few places cherish a stronger local pride than Albano. Traditionidentifies this town with no less a place than Alba Longa, so famousin early Roman legends; for though, according to the old accounts,Tullus Hostilius destroyed the city proper of Alba Longa, yetafterwards another town grew on its site, and all around rose upthe splendid villas of the Roman nobility. Here, too, Tiberius andDomitian had palaces, where they sought relaxation from the caresof empire in a characteristic way.
On reaching this place, their first care was to order dinner, andthen, as there would be some time taken up in preparation for thatmeal, they looked about for some mode of pastime. The landlordrecommended to them a visit to a convent at the top of the hill.He informed them that it stood on the site of a famous temple, andthat it was visited every day by large numbers of travellers. On,referring to their guide-book, the boys learned that the templereferred to by the landlord was that of the Latian Jupiter.
As they had nothing else to do, they set out for the convent, andsoon reached it. Arriving there, they found spread out before thema view which surpassed anything that they had ever seen in theirlives. Far down beneath them descended the declivity of the Albanhill, till it terminated in the Roman Campagna. Then, far awaybefore their eyes it spread for many a mile, till it was terminatedby a long blue line, which it needed not the explanation of themonk at their elbow to recognize as the Mediterranean; and thisblue line of distant sea spread far away, till it terminated in aprojecting promontory, which their guide told them was the Cape ofTerracina. But their attention was arrested by an object which wasmuch nearer than this. Through that gray Campagna,--whose gray hue,the result of waste and barrenness, seemed also to mark its hoaryage,--through this there ran a silver thread, with many a windingto and fro, now coming full into view, and gleaming in the sun,now retreating, till it was lost to sight.
"What is this?" asked David.
"The Tiber!" said the monk.
At the mention of this august historic name, a thrill involuntarilypassed through them. The Tiber! What associations clustered aroundthat word!
Along this silver thread their eyes wandered, till at length itwas lost for a time in a dark, irregular mass of something. Theatmosphere just now had grown slightly hazy in this direction, sothat they could not make out what this was, exactly; whether ahill, or a grove, or a town; but it looked most like a town, andthe irregularities and projections seemed like towers and domes.Prominent among these projections was one larger mass, which roseup above all the others, and formed the chief feature in thatindistinct mass.
"What is all that?" asked David, in a hesitating way, like one whosuspects the truth, but does not feel at all sure about it.
"Dat," said the guide, "dat is Rome; and dat black mass dat yousee is de Church of St. Peter's. It's not clear to-day--some timewe can see it all plain."
At this the boys said nothing, but stood in silence, looking uponthe scene. It was one which might have stirred the souls of eventhe least emotional, and among this little company there were two,at least, who were quick to kindle into enthusiasm at the presenceof anything connected with the storied past. These were David andClive, who each, though from different causes, now felt himselfprofoundly moved by this spectacle. David's enthusiasm was thatof a scholar; Clive's was that of a poet; yet each was keen in hissusceptibility, and eloquent in the expression of his feelings.
As for Frank and Bob, they were far less demonstrative; and thoughthey had plenty of enthusiasm of their own, yet it was not oftenexcited very violently by either poetic feeling or classicalreminiscences. The scene before them certainly moved their feelingsalso, on the present occasion; but they were not in the habit ofindulging in exclamatory language, and so they looked on in quietappreciation, without saying anything.
Not so the other two, David and Clive. Each burst forth in hisown way.
"How magnificent!" cried Clive. "What a boundless scene! Howfortunate we are to have our first view of Rome! I don't believethere is such another sight in all the world. But what a scene musthave appeared from these heights when Rome was in its glory!"
"Yes," said David, chiming in, "such a place doesn't exist anywhereelse in all the world. It's the cradle of history, and moderncivilization. Here is where the mighty Roman empire began. Thereis the Rome of the kings and the consuls; and down there is thearena, where they fought out that long battle that arranged thecourse of future ages."
"Besides," said Clive; "there is the scene of all the latter partof the Aeneid, and of all the immortal legends that arose out ofthe early growth of Rome. What a place this would be to readMacaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome!--
"Hail to the great asylum! Hail to the hill-tops seven! Hail to the fire that burns for aye! And the shields that fell from heaven!"
At this moment Frank's attention was attracted to a place not veryfar away, where the sheen of some silver water flashed forth fromamid the dark green hue of the surrounding hills.
"What is that?" he asked of the guide. "It looks like a lake."
"It is de Alban Lake."
"The Alban Lake!" cried David, in a fresh transport of enthusiasm;"the Alban Lake! What, the lake that the Romans drained at thesiege of Veii?"
"It
is de same," said the guide.
"Is it really? and is the canal or tunnel still in existence?
"It is."
"Is it far away?"
"Not ver far."
"Boys, we must go there. It is the greatest curiosity of the countryabout here."
"Well," said Frank, "I'm in for any curiosity. But how long willit take for us to see it?"
"It will take more dan one hour," said the guide.
"More than an hour!" said Frank. "Hm--that won't do--we've got togo back at once to get our dinner. It's ready by this time, andthen we must leave for Rome."
"Well, it's a great pity," said David, sadly. "I think I should bewilling to go without my dinner, to see that wonderful tunnel."
"I shouldn't, then," said Frank, "not for all the tunnels inthe world."
"Nor should I," said Bob.
"But what a magnificent effect the lake has when embraced in ourview!" said Clive. "How finely is the description in Childe Haroldadapted to this scene--
'And near, Albano's scarce divided waves Shine from a sister valley; and afar The Tiber winds, and the broad ocean laves The Latian coast, where sprung the Epic war, "Arms and the man," whose reascending star Rose o'er an empire; but beneath thy right Fully reposed from Rome; and where yon bar Of girdling mountains intercepts thy sight, The Sabine farm was tilled, the weary bard's delight.'
"Clive," said David, who had waited patiently for him to finishhis poetical quotation, "you'll come--won't you?"
"Come? Come where?"
"Why, I want to visit the tunnel of the Alban Lake, and it'll takean hour to do it. If we go, we'll lose our dinner. What do you say?You don't think a dinner's the most important thing in the world?"
"Of course not," said Clive. "Besides, we can pick up some scrapswhen we return, and eat them in the carriage."
"That's right," said David. "Boys," he continued, appealing toFrank and Bob, "you'd better come."
"What! and lose our dinners?" cried Frank, scornfully. "Catch usat it. No. We require more substantial food than poetry and oldruins. Don't we, Bob?"
"Certainly," said Bob. "For my part poetry and old ruins never werein my line. As for 'Arms and the man' and the 'Sabine farm,' why,all I can say is, I always hated them. I detested Virgil, andHorace, and Cicero, and the whole lot of them, at school; and whyI should turn round now, and pretend to like them, I don't know,I'm sure. Horace and Virgil, indeed! Bother Horace and Virgil, Isay."
At such flippancy as this both David and Clive looked too muchpained to reply. They turned away in silence, and spoke to theguide.
"So you're not coming back to dinner?" said Frank.
"No," said David; "we want to see that tunnel."
"Well, you'll lose your dinner; that's all."
"Of course. We don't care."
"At any rate, don't go and forget about us. We want to leave, forRome after dinner, and you ought to be back in one hour, at thevery farthest."
"O, yes; the guide says it'll only take an hour. We don't intendto spend any more time there than we can help."
"Well, I think you ought to come back," said Bob; "you know verywell how poor old Uncle Moses will fidget and worry about you."
"O, no; it's all right. Tell him that the guide is with us,you know."
After a few more words, Frank and Bob, who were ravenously hungry,hurried back to the hotel, and David and Clive, who were also, totell the truth, equally hungry, resisted their appetites as wellas they were able, and accompanied their guide to the Lake Albano.
Most boys are familiar with the story of the Alban Lake; butfor the benefit of those who may not have heard of it, or who,having heard, have forgotten, it may be as well to give abrief account of the famous tunnel, which was so very attractiveto Clive and David.
The city of Veii had been besieged for nine years, without success,by the Romans; and at length, in the tenth year, a great prodigyoccurred, in the shape of the sudden rising of the waters of theAlban Lake to an extraordinary height, without any apparent cause.The Romans, in their bewilderment, sent a messenger to the oracleof Delphi to inquire about it. Before this messenger returned, theyalso captured a Verentine priest, who informed them that there werecertain oracular books in Veii, which declared that Veii couldnever perish unless the waters of the Alban Lake should reachthe sea. Not long afterwards the messenger returned from Delphi,who brought back an answer from the oracle at that place to thesame effect. Upon this, the Romans resolved to draw off thewaters of the lake so as to let them flow to the sea. Such anundertaking was one of the most laborious kind, especially in anage like that; but the Romans entered upon it, and worked at itwith that extraordinary tenacity of purpose which alwaysdistinguished them. It was necessary to cut a tunnel throughthe mountain, through rock of the hardest possible description.But the same age had seen the excavation of other subterraneanpassages far larger than this, and in the same country, preeminentlythe Grotto of Posilipo, at Naples, and that of the Cumaean Sibyl,and at length it was accomplished. The people of Veii heard ofit, and were filled with alarm. Ambassadors were sent to Rome,with the hope of inducing the Romans to come to some other termsless severe than the surrender of the city; but they weredisappointed, and according to the legend, could only comfortthemselves by announcing to the Romans a prophecy in the oracularbooks of Veii, to the effect that, if this siege should be carriedthrough to the capture of the city, Rome itself should be takenby the Gauls soon after. This prophecy, however, had no effect.whatever upon the stern resolution of the Romans.
The subterranean passage to the lake was also supplemented byanother, which led to the citadel of Veii. As the time approachedfor the final assault, the Roman Senate invited all the Roman peopleto participate in it, and promised them a share of the booty. Thispromise induced a vast multitude, old and young, to go there. Thetime at last came. The water of the Alban Lake was let out intothe fields, and the party that entered the subterranean passage tothe citadel were led by Camillus, while, at the same time, a generalassault was made upon the walls by the rest of the army. At thatmoment the king of Veii happened to be sacrificing in the Templeof Juno, which was in the citadel, and Camillus, with his Romans,were immediately beneath, close enough to hear what he said. Ithappened that the attendant priest declared that whoever shouldbring the goddess her share of the victim should conquer. Camillusheard the words, and at once they burst forth upon the astonishedVeientans, seized upon the altar, offered the sacrifice, and thusperformed what had been declared to be the conditions of victory.After this they held the citadel, and sent a detachment to openthe gates to the assaulting army outside. Thus Veil fell; and thisis the legend which, like many others belonging to early Romantimes, is more full of poetry than of truth.
The tunnel still remains, and is one of the chief curiosities leftfrom ancient times. It is about two miles long, six feet high, andthree and a half feet wide.
To this place the guide led David and Clive, and entertained themon the way with the account of its origin, which accorded in mostparticulars with that which is given above; and though both of theboys were familiar with the story, yet it was not unpleasant tohear it again, told by one who lived in the neighborhood of theplace, and had passed his life amid these scenes. It seemed to themto give a certain degree of authenticity to the old legend.
There was not much to see, except an opening in the rock, the mouthof the tunnel, with rushes, and mosses, and grasses, and shrubberygrowing around it. Having seen it, they were satisfied, and turnedto go back to the hotel. After a short distance, the guide showedthem where there was a path turning off through the fields, whichformed a short cut back. Upon this they paid him for his trouble,and he went back to the convent, while they went along the path bywhich he had directed them.