red
little villa, which was once occupied by the late Queen Caroline: and
in the gardens adjoining it, we gathered oranges from the trees
ourselves for the first time. After passing Mount Soracte, of
classical fame, we took leave of the Apennines; having lived amongst
them ever since we left Bologna.

The costume of this part of the country is very gay and picturesque:
the women wear a white head-dress formed of a square kerchief, which
hangs down upon the shoulders, and is attached to the hair by a silver
pin: a boddice half laced, and decorated with knots of ribbon, and a
short scarlet petticoat complete their attire. Between Perugia and
Terni I did not see one woman without a coral necklace; and those who
have the power, load themselves with trinkets and ornaments.

_Rome, December 12._--The morning broke upon us so beautifully between
Civita Castellana and Nevi, that we lauded our good fortune, and
anticipated a glorious approach to the "Eternal City." We were
impatient to reach the heights of Baccano; from which, at the distance
of fifteen miles, we were to view the cross of St. Peter's glittering
on the horizon, while the postilions rising in their stirrups, should
point forward with exultation, and exclaim "ROMA!" But, O
vain hope! who can controul their fate? just before we reached
Baccano, impenetrable clouds enveloped the whole Campagna. The mist
dissolved into a drizzling rain; and when we entered the city, it
poured in torrents. Since we left England, this is only the third time
it has rained while we were on the road; it seems therefore
unconscionable to murmur. But to lose the first view of Rome! the
first view of the dome of St. Peter's! no--that lost moment will never
be retrieved through our whole existence.

We found it difficult to obtain suitable accommodation for our
numerous _cortege_, the Hotel d'Europe, and the Hotel de Londres being
quite full: and for the present we are rather indifferently lodged in
the Albergo di Parigi.

So here we are, in ROME! where we have been for the last five
hours, and have not seen an inch of the city beyond the dirty pavement
of the Via Santa Croce; where an excellent dinner cooked _a
l'Anglaise_, a blazing fire, a drawing-room snugly carpeted and
curtained, and the rain beating against our windows, would almost
persuade us that we are in London; and every now and then, it is with
a kind of surprise that I remind myself that I am really in Rome.
Heaven send us