From Bædeker, 1867:
Departure. On quitting the harbour, the steamboat commands a beautiful retrospect of the town. To the W. the island of Gorgona rises abruptly from the sea. The vessel now proceeds in a S. direction, and the island of Capraja soon appears; in the distance the dark outlines of Corsica. To the E. the coast continues visible, to the N.E. the Apennines. The steamer then threads its way between the island of Elba, with the Porto Longone and the islands of Palmajola and Cerboli and the Punta di Piombino, a beautiful passage. The retrospect of the small rocky islands, furnished like the numerous promontories of the coast with lighthouses, is particularly picturesque. Somewhat later the island of Pianosa is passed; farther S. Giglio and Argentaro with the beautifully-formed Monte Argentario, rising immediately from the sea; farther off is the small island of Giannutri.
The coast becomes flat. Civitavecchia, situated picturesquely on an eminence, soon becomes visible in the distance.
Leghorn to Civita Vecchia
One of these fat bare-footed rascals [Dominican Friar]came here to Civita Vecchia with us in the little French steamer. There were only half a dozen of us in the cabin. He belonged in the steerage. He was the life of the ship, the bloody-minded son of the Inquisition! He and the leader of the marine band of a French man-of-war played on the piano and sang opera turn about; they sang duets together; they rigged impromptu theatrical costumes and gave us extravagant farces and pantomimes. We got along first-rate with the friar, and were excessively conversational, albeit he could not understand what we said, and certainly he never uttered a word that we could guess the meaning of.
Civita Vecchia
This Civita Vecchia is the finest nest of dirt, vermin and ignorance we have found yet, except that African perdition they call Tangier, which is just like it. The people here live in alleys two yards wide, which have a smell about them which is peculiar but not entertaining. It is well the alleys are not wider, because they hold as much smell now as a person can stand, and of course, if they were wider they would hold more, and then the people would die. These alleys are paved with stone, and carpeted with deceased cats, and decayed rags, and decomposed vegetable-tops, and remnants of old boots, all soaked with dish-water, and the people sit around on stools and enjoy it. They are indolent, as a general thing, and yet have few pastimes. They work two or three hours at a time, but not hard, and then they knock off and catch flies. This does not require any talent, because they only have to grab--if they do not get the one they are after, they get another. It is all the same to them. They have no partialities. Whichever one they get is the one they want. They have other kinds of insects, but it does not make them arrogant. They are very quiet, unpretending people. They have more of these kind of things than other communities, but they do not boast. They are very uncleanly--these people--in face, in person and dress. When they see any body with a clean shirt on, it arouses their scorn. The women wash clothes, half the day, at the public tanks in the streets, but they are probably somebody else’s. Or may be they keep one set to wear and another to wash; because they never put on any that have ever been washed. When they get done washing, they sit in the alleys and nurse their cubs. They nurse one ash-cat at a time, and the others scratch their backs against the door-post and are happy.
The Papal States
All this country belongs to the Papal States. They do not appear to have any schools here, and only one billiard table. Their education is at a very low stage. One portion of the men go into the military, another into the priesthood, and the rest into the shoe-making business. They keep up the passport system here, but so they do in Turkey. This shows that the Papal States are as far advanced as Turkey. This fact will be alone sufficient to silence the tongues of malignant calumniators. I had to get my passport vised for Rome in Florence, and then they would not let me come ashore here until a policeman had examined it on the wharf and sent me a permit. They did not even dare to let me take my passport in my hands for twelve hours, I looked so formidable. They judged it best to let me cool down. They thought I wanted to take the town, likely. Little did they know me. I wouldn’t have it. They examined my baggage at the depot. They took one of my ablest jokes and read it over carefully twice and then read it backwards. But it was too deep for them. They passed it around, and every body speculated on it awhile, but it mastered them all.
A Touch of Burlesque
It was no common joke. At length a veteran officer spelled it over deliberately and shook his head three or four times and said that in his opinion it was seditious. That was the first time I felt alarmed. I immediately said I would explain the document, and they crowded around. And so I explained and explained and explained, and they took notes of all I said, but the more I explained the more they could not understand it, and when they desisted at last, I could not even understand it myself. They said they believed it was an incendiary document, leveled at the government. I declared solemnly that it was not, but they only shook their heads and would not be satisfied. Then they consulted a good while; and finally they confiscated it. I was very sorry for this, because I had worked a long time on that joke, and took a good deal of pride in it, and now I suppose I shall never see it any more. I suppose it will be sent up and filed away among the criminal archives of Rome, and will always be regarded as a mysterious infernal machine which would have blown up like a mine and scattered the good Pope all around, but for a miraculous providential interference. And I suppose that all the time I am in Rome the police will dog me about from place to place because they think I am a dangerous character.
Nothing to do or see
It is fearfully hot in Civita Vecchia. The streets are made very narrow and the houses built very solid and heavy and high, as a protection against the heat. This is the first Italian town I have seen which does not appear to have a patron saint. I suppose no saint but the one that went up in the chariot of fire could stand the climate. There is nothing here to see. They have not even a cathedral, with eleven tons of solid silver archbishops in the back room; and they do not show you any moldy buildings that are seven thousand years old; nor any smoke-dried old fire-screens which are chef d’oeuvres of Reubens or Simpson, or Titian or Ferguson, or any of those parties; and they haven’t any bottled fragments of saints, and not even a nail from the true cross. We are going to Rome. There is nothing to see here.
Journey to Rome, Bædeker, 1867:
The Railway from Civitavecchia to Rome (express in 2, ordinary train in 3"/2 hrs. ; fares see p. 11.; views to the r. till Rome is approached, when a seat on the l. should if possible be secured) traverses a dreary tract, running parallel with the ancient Via Aurelia near the sea-coast as far as Palo. On clear days the Alban and Volscian mountains are visible in the distance, and still farther off the promontory of Circeii. The first stat. Santa Marinella possesses a mediaeval castle rising above a small bay, in the garden of which a date-palm flourishes. Stat. Rio Fiume; then the picturesque baronial castle of Santa Severa (stat.), formerly the property of the Galera, afterwards of the Orsini family, now of the Hospital Santo Spirito at Rome. Here in ancient times was situated Pyrgos or Pyrgi, harbour of the once powerful Etruscan city Caere, formerly termed Agylla or the “circular city” by the Phoenicians, with whom the town carried on a flourishing trade, now Cervetri (p. 350), situated on the height 6 M. farther to the l. Stat. Furbara. The solitary towers on the shore were erected during the middle ages for protection against the dreaded Turkish Corsairs.
Stat. Palo (poor railway-restaurant), with a château and villa of the Odescalchi, occupies the site of the ancient Alsium, where Pompey and Antoninus Pius possessed country-residences. Relics of antiquity now scanty. Stat. Palidoro, on the river of that name, which rises on the heights by the Lago di Bracciano. The line now approaches the plantations of Maccarese (stat.) to the r., believed to be the ancient Fregenae, situated near the mouth of the Arrone, a river which descends from the Lago di Bracciano. The Lago di Ponente or Stagno di Maccarese is now skirted. Stat. Ponte Galera, beyond which the line runs in the vicinity of the Tiber.
Beyond stat. Magliano a more unbroken view is obtained of the extensive Campagna di Roma and the Alban Mts., at the base of which glitter the white houses of Frascati (p. 316), and of the Sabine Mts. in the background; in the foreground the hand some Benedictine monastery of S. Paolo fuori le mura with its sumptuous new basilica. To the l. is disclosed a view of Rome, the Aventine (p. 217), the Capitol (p. 195) and Trastevere (p. 261). The train crosses the Tiber by a new iron bridge and slowly approaches the walls of Rome, of which the S.E. side is skirted.
Above the wall rises Monte Testaccio (p. 219); adjacent is the Pyramid of Cestius (p. 218) with the cypresses of the Protestant cemetery; in the vicinity, the Porta S. Paolo, farther distant the Aventine with S. Sabina (p. 219). The line then traverses gardens and unites with the railway from Naples. The Porta S. Sebastiano, approached by the Via Appia (p. 305), is visible. The latter having been crossed, the Lateran (p. 232) appears with the numerous statues of its façade; then the monastery of S. Croce in Gerusalemme (p. 165), with lofty Romanesque tower. The train now enters a tunnel beneath the aqueduct of the Acqua Felice and passes the Porta Maggiore (p. 165), which is crossed by two ancient water-conduits. The line then intersects the city-wall; to the l. a decagonal ruin, usually termed a Temple of Minerva Medica, two stories in height. A view is next obtained of S. Maria Maggiore (p. 160), a handsome edifice with two domes and Romanesque tower. To the r. insignificant remnants of the ancient Wall of Servius, discovered and destroyed by the construction of the railway. The train now enters the station at the N.W. extremity of the town, opposite the Thermae of Diocletian and the traveller is in the Imperial City (p. 99).