DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.785#0369
CHAP. XVII.]
A SECOND ANCIENT BRIDGE.
265
lives and properties of his tenants, being supreme judge
of both civil and criminal causes—in a country, be it
remembered, where trial by jury is unknown. His rule,
however, seemed based on love, rather than on fear—more
akin to that of the chief of a clan than to feudal seignory,
on the one hand, or to the authority of an English squire
over his tenantry, on the other.
The Count courteously proposed to act as our cicerone
to the antiquities of the neighbourhood, and mounted his
steed to accompany us.
Our first object was an ancient bridge of three arches,
which lay in the ravine to the west of the town. The
Count led the way down the descent, through a narrow
cleft, sunk some twenty feet in the tufo, with a channel or
furrow in the middle, so deep and narrow that the horses
could scarcely put one foot before the other, yet we were
obliged to adhere to the Horatian maxim, in medio tutissi-
mus, lest our legs should be crushed against the walls of
rock.
On emerging from this cleft, the triple-arched bridge
stood before us. The central arch was a true semi-
circle, thirty feet in span; the side arches were only
ten feet wide, and stilted. All were formed of rusticated
blocks, with edges so sharp and fresh that it was difficult
to believe it the work of two hundred years since, much
less of two thousand; but the first step I set on the
bridge convinced me of its high antiquity. The central
arch has been split throughout its entire length, probably
by an earthquake; the blocks, being uncemented, have
been much dislocated, but few have fallen. It is clear
that this split occurred at an early period ; for in crossing
the bridge, passengers have been obliged to step clear of
the gaps, which in some parts yawn from one to two feet
wide, and, by treading in each other's footsteps, have worn
A SECOND ANCIENT BRIDGE.
265
lives and properties of his tenants, being supreme judge
of both civil and criminal causes—in a country, be it
remembered, where trial by jury is unknown. His rule,
however, seemed based on love, rather than on fear—more
akin to that of the chief of a clan than to feudal seignory,
on the one hand, or to the authority of an English squire
over his tenantry, on the other.
The Count courteously proposed to act as our cicerone
to the antiquities of the neighbourhood, and mounted his
steed to accompany us.
Our first object was an ancient bridge of three arches,
which lay in the ravine to the west of the town. The
Count led the way down the descent, through a narrow
cleft, sunk some twenty feet in the tufo, with a channel or
furrow in the middle, so deep and narrow that the horses
could scarcely put one foot before the other, yet we were
obliged to adhere to the Horatian maxim, in medio tutissi-
mus, lest our legs should be crushed against the walls of
rock.
On emerging from this cleft, the triple-arched bridge
stood before us. The central arch was a true semi-
circle, thirty feet in span; the side arches were only
ten feet wide, and stilted. All were formed of rusticated
blocks, with edges so sharp and fresh that it was difficult
to believe it the work of two hundred years since, much
less of two thousand; but the first step I set on the
bridge convinced me of its high antiquity. The central
arch has been split throughout its entire length, probably
by an earthquake; the blocks, being uncemented, have
been much dislocated, but few have fallen. It is clear
that this split occurred at an early period ; for in crossing
the bridge, passengers have been obliged to step clear of
the gaps, which in some parts yawn from one to two feet
wide, and, by treading in each other's footsteps, have worn