lla, uninhabited, and
belongs to an old man and an old woman, who will neither live in
it nor let it. Though close to the Villa Borghese, which is
occupied by the malaria, this villa is quite free from it. The
malaria is inexplicable. If it was 'palpable to sight as to
feeling,' it would be like a fog which reaches so far and no
farther. Here are ague and salubrity, cheek by jowl. To the
Pamfili Doria, a bad house with a magnificent view all round
Rome; fine garden in the regular clipped style, but very shady,
and the stone pines the finest here; this garden is well kept.
Malaria again; Rome is blockaded by malaria, and some day will
surrender to it altogether; as it is, it is melancholy to see all
these deserted villas and palaces, scarcely one of which is
inhabited or decently kept. I don't know one palace or villa
which is lived in as we should live in England; the Borghese
Villa is the only one which is really well kept, but Prince
Borghese has L70,000 a year; he lives at Florence and never comes
here, but keeps collecting and filling his villa. The other
morning the ground here was in many parts covered by a thin red
powder, which was known to come from an eruption, and everybody
thought it was Vesuvius, and so travellers reported, but it turns
out to be from Etna or Stromboli. Naples was covered with it, and
the sun obscured, but it is much nearer. Rome must be 300 or 400
miles from Etna.

May 23rd, 1830 {p.371}

Went to three churches--Nuova, San Giovanni del Fiorentini, San
Agostino; in this latter is Raphael's fresco of the prophet
Isaiah, in the style of M. Angelo, but it did not particularly
strike me. There is a remarkable Madonna here, a great favourite;
her shrine is quite illuminated with lamps and candles, and
adorned with offerings which cover the columns on each side of
the church. Numerous devotees were kissing her gilt foot, and the
Virgin and Child were decked with earrings, bracelets, and jewels
and gold in every shape; the Child, which is of a tawny marble,
looked like some favourite little 'nigger,' so bedizened was he
with finery. She is a much more popular Madonna than my friend of
the Pantheon, to whom I went, as in honour bound, and hung up my
horse-shoe by a purple riband (my racing colour) round one of the
candlesticks on the altar, with this inscription--C.C.G.,
P.G.R.N. A.27, 1830.[5]

[5] [These letters appear to stand for the following votive
inscription: 'Charl