If from Veii the traveller follow the course of the Crémera for five or six miles, it will lead him to the Tiber, of which it is a tributary. In the cliffs of the lonely but beautiful ravine through which it flows he will observe in several places sepulchral caves, particularly at the end nearer Veii; and on reaching the mouth of the glen, he will have, on the right, the ruin-capt heights which are supposed by Nibby and Gell to have been the site of the Castle of the Fabii.

Exactly opposite the mouth of this glen, and on the other bank of the Tiber, rises the hill which was once crowned by the city of Fidenæ. This, though beyond the bounds of Etruria Proper, being on the left bank of the Tiber, was an Etruscan city, and in all probability a colony of Veii; for Livy speaks of the consanguinity of the inhabitants of the two cities. It seems at least to have been dependent on Veii, and was frequently associated with her in opposition to Rome. Its history, indeed, save that on several occasions it fell into the hands of the Romans, is almost identical with that of Veii.

The first acquaintance the traveller in Italy makes with Etruscan antiquities—the first time, it may be, that he is reminded of such a race—is generally at Fiesole. The close vicinity to Florence, and the report that some remains are to be seen there, far older than Roman days, attract the visitor to the spot. He there beholds walls of great massiveness, and a few other remains, but forms a very imperfect conception of the race that constructed them. He learns, it is true, from the skill displayed in these monuments, that the Etruscans could not have been a barbarous people; but the extent and character of their civilisation are still to him a mystery. It is not at Fiesole that this early people is to be comprehended.

Who, that has visited Florence, does not know Fiesole— the Hampstead or Highgate of the Tuscan capital—the Sunday resort of Florentine Cockneyism? Who does not know that it forms one of the most picturesque objects in the scenery around that most elegant of cities, crowning a height, three miles to the north, with its vine-shaded villas and cypress-girt convents, and rearing its tall Cathedral-tower between the two crests of the mount? Who has not lingered awhile on his way at Dante's mill, and, in spite of the exclusiveness of English proprietorship, who has not in imagination overleapt the walls of the Villa, hallowed by “The Hundred Tales of Love,” and beheld

Who that has seen has not hailed with delight the exquisite little lake of Vico, which lies in the lap of the Ciminian Mount, just above Ronciglione? Its own singular beauty is charm enough, but in English eyes it possesses the additional interest of similarity to some of our own island lakes. The first time I saw it was one evening when I had strolled up from Ronciglione, and had come upon it unexpectedly, not aware of its close proximity. The sun was sinking behind the hills, which reared their broad, purple masses into the clear sky, and shaded half the bosom of the calm lake with their hues—while the other half reflected the orange and golden glories of an Italian sunset. Not a sound broke the stillness, save the chirping of the cicala from the trees, whose song served but to make the silence heard—and not a sign of human life was there beyond a high column of smoke wreathing up whitely in front of the dark mountains.

Of the ancient history of Horta, we have no record, unless the notice by Virgil, the application of which to this town has been doubted, be received as historical. We know, however, from better authority than that of the Mantuan bard, namely, from its extant monuments, that Horta was an Etruscan city, and the archaic character of those remains even leads us to regard it as among the most ancient in the land. The only other mention of it is by Pliny, who cites it among the “inland colonies” of Etruria; but we learn from inscriptions that it was one of the military colonies of Augustus.

Orte lies on the right bank of the Tiber, about twelve miles above Ponte Felice, and crowns the summit of a long narrow isolated ridge of tufo rock. Beneath the walls of the town this ridge breaks into naked cliffs, and then sinks gradually in slopes clad with olives and vines to meet the Tiber and the plain. Viewed from the north or south its situation appears very similar to that of Orvieto, though far from being so elevated and imposing, but from the east or west it has a less commanding though more picturesque appearance. At the western end the ridge is particularly narrow, terminating in a mere long wall of cliff, called La Rocca, which communicates with the city by a viaduct.

The best guide to the Etruscan antiquities of Viterbo and its neighbourhood, is Ruggieri, a caffetière of that city who, though a master-excavator himself, will condescend, for a consideration, to act the cicerone. As he happened to be on his travels, we provided ourselves with the secondbest guide Viterbo could afford, in the person of a meagre barber, Giuseppe Perugini by name, with none of the garrulity and vivacity of Figaro, that type of tonsorial excellence, but taciturn, solemn, and grave as a cat, if there be truth in the proverb—

Under his auspices we made several excursions to Castel d' Asso, an Etruscan necropolis, which has already been made known to the English public by the lively description of Mrs. Hamilton Gray. It is about five miles to the west of Viterbo, and can be reached by the light vehicles of the country, though more easily on horseback.

From the gate of Viterbo, the road descends between low cliffs, here and there hollowed into sepulchres. At the extremity of this cleft is a large cave, called Grotta di Riello, once a sepulchre, and a spot long approached with mysterious awe, as the depository of hidden treasure guarded by demons.

Siena can urge no pretensions to be considered an Etruscan city, that are founded either on historical records, or on extant remains. By ancient writers she is mentioned only as a Roman colony, and as there is no mention of her before the time of Cæsar, and as she is styled Sena Julia by the Theodosian Table, the probability is that a colony was first established here by Julius Cæsar, or by the second Triumvirate. Nor is there a trace of Etruscan antiquity visible on the site, though there are a few shapeless caves in the cliffs around, which seem to have been mistaken for tombs.

Siena, therefore, would not have been mentioned among Etruscan cities, but that it is situated in a district which, at various periods, has yielded treasures of that antiquity; and from its position in the heart of Tuscany, and on the high road from Florence to Rome, it might be made a convenient central point for the exploration of this region. It has two comfortable hotels—Le Armi d'Inghilterra and L'Aquila Nera—all-important in a city so full of medieval interest, whose glorious Cathedral alone might tempt the traveller to a lengthened stay, and whose inhabitants, in spite of Dante's vituperations, are all the stranger could wish to make his sojourn agreeable.

Sixteen miles north of Siena, on the road to Florence, is Poggibonsi, the Podium Bonitii of the middle ages. Between this and Castellina, a town about seven or eight miles to the east, Etruscan tombs have been found.

The necropolis of Perusia offers a rich field for research ; and of late years, since attention has been directed to excavations in Etruria, numerous tombs have been brought to light. This is principally owing to the archæological zeal of the Cavaliere Vermiglioli, to whom it is also due that many of these sepulchres, fortunately for the student of antiquity, remain in statu quo, with all their urns, just as they were discovered.

Grotta de'Voluoti.

First and foremost in magnitude and beauty, and rivalling in interest the most celebrated sepulchres of the land, is the “Tomb of the Volumnii,” which no one who visits, or even passes through Perugia, should omit to see. It is easy of accomplishment, for the high-road to Rome passes the very door. It lies about two miles from Perugia, in the slope of a low eminence, which rises at the base of the lofty height on which the city stands. The keys are kept at a house hard by the tomb.

You descend a long flight of steps to the entrance, now closed by a door of wood: the ancient one, a huge slab of travertine, which was placed against it—a mere “stone on the mouth of the sepulchre,”—now rests against the rock outside.

The neighbourhood of Viterbo is particularly rich in antiquities. It was not usual with the Etruscans to build on the summits of lofty mountains, or even on the higher slopes—therefore no remains are found on the Ciminian itself—but all along its base stood city after city, now for the most part in utter desolation, yet whose pristine magnificence can be traced in the sepulchres around them. The vast plain, also, north of the Ciminian, now in great part uncultivated, and throughout most thinly inhabited, is covered with vestiges of long extinct civilisation.

Five miles north of Viterbo, on the left of the road to Monte Fiascone, and near the Ponte Fontanile, is a remarkable assemblage of ruins, commonly called Le Casacce del Bacucco. One is an edifice of two stories, by some thought a temple of Serapis, most probably because they fancied they could trace a corruption of this word in its name, Bagni delle Serpi. It is more vulgarly called La Lettighetta, or the Warming-pan. Then there are several quadrilateral buildings, evidently baths; one retaining traces of some magnificence, being surmounted by an octagon which originally supported a cupola. From the character of these ruins, and the abundance of thermal springs in this district, it has been with great probability supposed that this is the site of the Aquæ Passeris of antiquity.

It is a distance of nine miles from Bolsena to Monte Fiascone, and the road on the long ascent commands superb views of the lake and its richly-wooded shores. That the lake, notwithstanding its vast size, was once the crater of a volcano, seems proved by the character of its encircling hills; and in one spot, about a mile from Bolsena, there is strong evidence in a cliff of basaltic columns, of irregular pentagons, hexagons, and heptagons, piled up horizontally. The quarries, for which these shores were anciently renowned, have not yet been recognised.

Though the lake anciently took its name from Volsinii, the principal city on its shores, yet, as the ager Tarquiniensis stretched up to its waters on the west, it was sometimes called the Tarquinian Lake. In all ages something of the marvellous seems to have attached to it. The blood-flowing wafer, and the foot-prints of the virginmartyr, have already been mentioned. Its islands are described as floating groves, blown by the wind, now into triangular, now into circular forms, but never into squares. Shall we not rather refer this unsteady, changeful character to the eyes of the beholders, and conclude that the propagators of the miracle had been making too deep potations in the rich wine of its shores?

the most northerly city of Etruria was Luna. It stood, indeed, on the very frontier, on the left bank of the Macra, which formed the north-western boundary of that land. And though at one time in the possession of the Ligurians, together with a wide tract to the south, even down to Pisa and the Arno, yet Luna was originally Etruscan, and as such it was recognised in Imperial times. It was never renowned for size or power; its importance seems to have been derived chiefly from its vast and commodious port, truly “worthy of a people who long held dominion of the sea,” and which is now known as the Gulf of Spezia.

But its size and security are the least of its charms. To the tranquil beauty of a lake it unites the majesty of the sea. No fairer bay could poet sigh for, “to float about the summer-waters.” Never did purer wave mirror more glorious objects. Shining towns—pine-crested convents— luxuriant groves—storm-defying forts—castled-crags— proud headlands—foam-fretted islets — dark heights, prodigal of wine and oil—purple mountains behind,—and naked marble-peaked Apennines over all,

About three miles from Sarzana, on the high-road to Lucca and Pisa, and just before reaching the modern frontier of Carrara, the traveller will have on his right a strip of low grassy land, interveningbetween him and the sea.

About twelve miles east of Viterbo, on the same slope of the Ciminian, is the village of Bomarzo, in the immediate neighbourhood of an Etruscan town where extensive excavations have been carried on of late years. The direct road to it runs along the base of the mountain, but the excursion may be made more interesting by a détour to Férento. Both roads are quite impracticable for vehicles.

From Férento the path leads across a deep ravine, past the village of Le Grotte di Santo Stefano, whose name marks the existence of caves in its neighbourhood, and over the open heath towards Bomarzo. But before reaching that place, a wooded ravine, Fosso della Vezza, which forms a natural fosse to the Ciminian, has to be crossed, and here—Chi va piano va sano—must be borne in mind. A more steep, slippery, and dangerous track I remember not to have traversed in Italy. Stiff miry clay, in which the steeds will anchor fast; rocks shelving and smoothfaced, like inclined planes of ice, are the alternatives. Let the traveller take warning, and not pursue this track after heavy rains. It would be advisable, especially if ladies are of the party, to return from Férento to Viterbo, and to take the direct road thence to Bomarzo.

This is a village of considerable size situated on a wooded cliff-bound platform, with an old castle of the Borghese family at the verge of the precipice.