Chapter VIII: Rome to Loreto 180 (4)

Pratolino was certainly built in rivalry with this place. In the richness and beauty of the grottoes Florence is far superior, but the gardens of the cardinal of Ferrara surpass Pratolino in abundance of water. As to the various diverting artifices produced by water-work, they are about the same, what though the Florentine designer may have produced a more elegant effect in laying out and ordering the ground. This palace certainly has the advantage in antique statues, and in the house itself. The Florentine erection, in the beauty of its site, and in the view over the adjacent country, is vastly superior to that of the cardinal of Ferrara. I should, however, have nothing but praise for the natural surroundings of the villa at Tivoli were it not that by ill-luck all the water therein, except that flowing from a fountain in a little garden high up, of some which is brought into one of the apartments of the palace itself, is the water of the Teverone, a branch of which the cardinal has manipulated and cut therefor a special canal for his own use. If this water were only clear and good to drink, instead of being turbulent and dirty, this place would stand beyond all comparison, especially with regard to the great fountain and its adjuncts, which in construction and aspect is the most exquisite work to be seen in this garden or in any other place. At Pratolino, on the other hand, all the water comes from springs, and is brought from afar. For the reason that the Teverone comes down from mountains still higher than those of Tivoli, divers of the people of the neighbourhood make what use they list of the river water, wherefore the cardinal’s handiwork seems less noteworthy, because others have done the same thing.

On the morrow I departed after dinner, and passed by a vast ruin on the right-hand side of the road, which is by report six miles in extent. This was formerly a villa, and known as the _prædium_ of the Emperor Adrian.[130] The road from Tivoli to Rome crosses a rivulet impregnated with sulphur. The banks of the stream are all white therewith, and the stench may be smelt half a league away, but no medicinal use is made of the water. In this stream may be found divers little substances compounded of the scum of the water, which are so much like our medicinal powder that few could tell the difference, and the people of Tivoli make out of this same material all sorts of medicaments, two boxes of which I bought for seven sous and six deniers. In Tivoli are divers antiquities, two terminal images of a very ancient shape, and the remains of a temple with several columns still perfect, which legend declares to have been the temple of the ancient Sibyl. However, on the cornice thereof there may still be seen five or six large letters; but this inscription seems to have been left unfinished, for the stonework beyond them is still intact. Whether any other letters preceded these I know not, as on that side the wall is ruined. All that are now visible run as follows: Ce ... Ellius L. F. What may be their signification I cannot say.

_To face p. 174_, vol. ii.
]

In the evening we arrived at Rome after a journey of fifteen miles. I travelled in a coach without any tedium or discomfort, a rare experience with me. The people here pay more careful heed to one particular usage than in any other place; that is to say, for the sake of health they find out the different characteristics of the various streets and quarters of the city, and even of the suites of apartments in their houses. This consideration is held to be of such high importance that they always change their residence according to the seasons. Even those who live in hired dwellings maintain at great cost three or four houses, so that they may shift at the proper season according to the advice of their physicians.

On the 15th of April I went to take leave of the Maestro del Sacro Palazzo[131] and his associate. They begged me “to pay no regard to the censures which had been passed upon my book; censures which, as certain Frenchmen had informed them, contained many ignorant statements: they declared that they honoured my purpose, my affection towards the Church, and my ability: that they rated my good breeding and conscientiousness highly enough to allow me at my own discretion to cut out of my book with my own hand, at the next reprinting of the same, any passages which might seem too plain spoken, and amongst others those remarks about Fortune.” It seemed to me that they were not ill pleased with me: moreover, to justify their careful examination of my book and their condemnation of the same in divers particulars, they instanced several contemporary books, written by cardinals and ecclesiastical personages of high repute, which had been censured for blots of a like character, the good name of the author and the book itself having been left quite scatheless thereby. They ended by begging me to give the Church the benefit of my eloquence (these are their usual _mots de courtoisie_) and to make my abode with them in this peaceful and untroubled city. Both of these men were of high authority and competent for the cardinalate.

We tasted artichokes, beans, and peas about the middle of March.

In April it is light at what they call ten hours,[132] and, as I well believe, at nine when the days are at their longest.

It was at this time that I made the acquaintance of a certain Pole, who had been the most intimate friend of Cardinal Hosius.[133] This man presented to me two copies of a book which he had written with great care concerning the cardinal’s death. The pleasure of a sojourn in this city becomes vastly greater by usage. I never breathed air more pleasant or more healthy to my temperament.

On the 18th of April I went to view the inside of the palace of Signor Giov. Giorgio Cesarini, which contains countless rare antiquities, the most noteworthy of which are the authentic busts of Zeno, Possidonius, Euripides, and Carneades, according to the very ancient Greek inscriptions which are thereon. I saw also portraits of the fairest Roman ladies of the present day and of the owner’s wife, the Signora Clælia Fascia Farnese, who, though she may not be the most beautiful, is assuredly the most amiable lady in Rome; or, for all I know, in the whole world.[134] This nobleman boasts descent from the race of the Cæsars, and by this right carries the banner of the Roman nobility. He is a rich man, and he bears for arms the column with the bear attached thereto, and above the column an eagle with outspread wings. The vineyards are amongst the most beautiful features of Rome, and these are in season in midsummer.

_Reproduced from Piranesi’s Views of Rome_

_To face p. 178_, vol. ii.
]

VIII

ROME TO LORETO

On Wednesday, April 19th, I quitted Rome after dinner, being escorted as far as the Ponte Molle by Messieurs de Marmontie,[135] De la Trimouille, Du Bellay, and divers other gentlemen. When we had crossed the bridge we turned to the right, leaving to our left the high-road to Viterbo by which we had entered Rome, and having on our right the Tiber and the mountains. We followed a road, exposed and very uneven, running through a barren country void of inhabitants, and passed the spot known as the _Prima porta_, _i.e._ the first gate, situated seven miles from Rome. Some hold that the ancient walls of Rome reached to this point, but I cannot see how this can be true. Along this road, which is the ancient Via Flaminia, are situated divers rare antiquities about which nought is known. After riding sixteen miles, we arrived at bedtime at Castel Nuovo.

This is a small village belonging to the Colonnas, lying buried amongst the low hills, in a situation which strongly reminded me of the fertile passes in our Pyrenees on the road to Aigues Caudes. On the next day, April 20th, we went on through the same sort of country, mountainous but very pleasing, fertile, and well peopled, till we arrived at a gorge beside the Tiber in which was situated Borghetto, a small village belonging to Duke Ottavio Farnese. We resumed our journey when we had dined, and, after traversing an exceedingly pleasant valley with low hills on either side, we crossed the Tiber at Corde,[136] where may still be seen vast piles of stone, the ruins of the bridge which Augustus caused to be built in order that the country of the Sabines, towards which we were travelling, might be united to that of the Faliscii on the other side of the river. We next came to Otricoli, a small village belonging to the cardinal of Perugia,[137] in front of which, in a very fine situation, are some large and important ruins. The country, mountainous and exceedingly pleasant of aspect, is everywhere broken and uneven, but very fertile and populous. On this road we passed an inscription which proclaimed how the Pope had made and levelled this road, which he called _Viam Boncompagnam_ after his own name. This custom, a common one in Italy and Germany, of thus setting up a written record as a testimony of works of this sort, is an excellent stimulus to urge on men of that temper which recks little of the public weal to execute some useful work, from the hope of gaining fame and reputation thereby. In sooth this road was formerly, for the most part of the way, uncomfortable to travel, whereas now it has been made level enough for coaches as far as Loreto. After travelling ten miles we arrived in time for bed at Narni, which in Latin is called _Narnia_.

This little town belongs to the Church. It stands on the top of a rock at the base of which flows the river Negra, or in Latin _Nar_, one side of the town being situated so as to overlook a pleasant plain through which the river goes joyously along and winds in marvellous fashion. In the public place is a very fine fountain. I went to see the cathedral, and remarked that the tapestry therein bears divers inscriptions and rhymes written in our old French tongue. I was not able to ascertain whence it came, although I learned from the people of the place that they had always been well disposed towards our nation. This tapestry shows forth the story of the Passion and occupies one entire side of the nave. For the reason that Pliny declares that in this country is found a certain sort of earth which softens with the heat and dries up in the rain, I made inquiries of the inhabitants concerning the same, but they could tell me nought thereof. About a mile distant there are some springs of cold water which work the same effects as our hot ones. Certain patients still make trial of them, but they are in no great repute. The inn, judged by the Italian standard, was a good one. We had no candles, all the house being lighted by oil.

Early on the morning of the 21st, we went down the very pleasant valley along which runs the Negra. This stream we crossed by a bridge at the very gates of Terni,[138] where in the public place, we remarked a very ancient column still upright. I found no inscription thereon, but at the side is an effigy of a lion in relief, below which is a dedication to Neptune in ancient characters, and also Neptune himself sculptured in marble with his customary train.[139] In this same place is an inscription in a prominent position in honour of a certain A. Pompeius A. F. The people of the town, which was known as _Interamnia_, because of the river Negra which passes close on one side and of a brook which flows on the other, erected a statue to this man in memory of the services which he had wrought, but it is no longer to be seen. I calculated the antiquity of the inscription aforesaid by the use made of diphthongs in writing _periculeis_ and other similar words. The town occupies a very pleasant site. At the bottom of the valley, by the road we had traversed, the level ground is very fertile, and farther on the sides of the hills are populous and well tilled, the abundance of olive trees making a picture as fair as the eye could wish, while here and there along these slopes arise tall mountains, which display themselves well cultivated and productive of all manner of fruits up to the very tops. For the last four-and-twenty hours I had been grievously tormented with colic, and at this moment the pain was at its worst, but I did not on this account fail to enjoy the beauty of the country around me.

After our departure we found ourselves in the passes of the Apennines, and then we were able to appreciate what a great and seemly and noble work the Pope has accomplished in the making of this new road at such a vast expense and labour. The neighbouring people were forced to give their labour in its formation, and they do not complain on this account so much as of the fact that all the land required for the road, whether arable, orchard, or aught else, was taken from them and no price paid therefor. On our right hand we perceived a little town placed on the summit of a pleasant elevation, called Colle Scipoli, or, according to ancient usage, _Castrum Scipionis_. The other mountains are lofty, arid, and rocky; and faring between these and what must be in winter the channel of a torrent, we arrived at Spoleto after travelling eighteen miles.

This is a famous and well-built city, situated in a hollow amongst the mountains. There we were compelled to show our _bolletta_, not by reason of the plague, of which all Italy was then free, but on account of a certain Petrino,[140] a citizen of the place, and the most notorious bandit of the country, of whom wonderful stories are told. The people of Spoleto and of all the towns round about were in great fear that they should be taken unawares by him. This country is thick set with taverns, even in places where there are no houses. These they make out of the boughs of trees, where you will find tables spread with boiled eggs and cheese and wine. They have no butter, but serve everything fried in oil.

On leaving the town this same day after dinner, we found ourselves in the valley of Spoleto, a plain lying between the mountains, and as fair a one as the fancy can picture, and two good Gascon leagues in width. We could likewise discern many houses on the crests of the adjacent hills. The road running through this plain is a continuation of the papal road I have just spoken of, being made like a high-road as straight as a line; and in our course we passed many towns on either hand--amongst others, on the right, was Trevi. Servius, in his comment on Virgil, declares that this is the place to which the poet refers in Book VII. as _olivifer æque Mutiscæ_, a view which certain other writers contradict. However this may be, it is a town built on the side of a high hill, occupying a site which reaches half-way up the slope, and most pleasantly situated, the mountain being covered throughout with olive trees. Pursuing this road, which was renovated three years ago and is now the finest that can anywhere be seen, we arrived in the evening at Foligno, after travelling twelve miles.

This is a fair town situated on a plain, which, as I neared it, reminded me strongly of the plain of St. Foi,[141] though it was beyond all comparison richer and the town more seemly and populous. It is situated on a rivulet called the Topino, and was formerly known as Fulignium or Fulcinia, being built on the site of the Forum Flaminium. On this road the inns are for the most part as good as those of France, except that they hardly ever provide other food than hay for the horses, and salt fish is almost always served in lieu of fresh. Moreover, all through Italy they eat beans raw, and peas and almonds green, and rarely cook their artichokes. The floors are paved with tiles. They hold in their oxen by the nose, by means of a piece of iron which pierces the division of the nostrils, the same as that used for buffaloes. Their baggage mules, which are excellent and very plentiful, are not shod before in our fashion, but with a round shoe, which is larger than the foot and goes all round it. At divers spots there are monks whose wont it is to give holy water to travellers, and to look for an alms in return; and crowds of children who beg for money, and promise to say a dozen paternosters on the beads which they hold in their hands in return for what may be given to them. The wines are poor.

On the morning of the morrow, after quitting this beautiful plain, we once more set out along the mountain road, on which we encountered many fine level spaces, some on high ground and some on low. In the early part of the morning we enjoyed for a time a most exquisite view of a thousand varied hills, clad everywhere with the finest shady trees or by fruit trees of all sorts, or by the richest cornfields, the ground being often so steep and broken that it seemed a marvel how horses could find their way thither. These lovely valleys, the countless brooks, and the houses and villages on every side, reminded one of the roads near Florence, except that here are no palaces or houses of consequence, and round Florence the land is arid and barren for the most part, unlike these hills where scarce a span of vacant ground is to be seen. Certes, I saw it at its best in the spring-time. Often we could espy one village far up over our heads and another beneath our feet, each well fitted with the conveniences of life. What made the prospect all the more delightful was that, beyond these fertile hills, we could distinguish the rugged and inaccessible summits of the Apennines, and the torrents descending therefrom, which, when they have lost their primal impulse, come down into the valleys as gracious and gentle brooks. While traversing these hills we could see, both on the heights and down below, many fertile level fields, some of them wider than the eye could cover on account of a slight slope in the distance, the landscape being of a beauty and richness beyond the power of a painter to imitate. Onward hence the aspect of our road took a varied character, but the highway was always easy and level; and, after a twenty-mile journey, we came, in time for dinner, to La Maccia, a little town on the river Chiento.

We kept along the road, which took an easy course at the base of the mountains, and here I had a dispute with the _vetturino_ and gave him a box on the ear, which the custom of this country rates as a violent outrage; as is exemplified by the case of the _vetturino_ who, for a similar assault, killed the Prince of Tresignano. As I saw that the fellow had left our company, and felt some apprehension lest he should make a charge against me or work other mischief, I changed my plan, which was to push on to Tolentino, and halted for supper at Val Chimara, a small village at the end of the eighth mile, situated on the bank of the Chiento. On the morrow, Sunday, we kept along the valley between fertile and cultivated mountain slopes, as far as the little town of Tolentino, through which we passed, and then came to a more level region. Now on either side the hills were small and easy of access, the whole region reminding me strongly of L’Agenois[142] in the fairest part thereof beside the Garonne, except that here, as in Switzerland, no castles or gentlemen’s houses are to be seen, but many villages and towns are built on the hill sides. We made our journey along the Chiento over a very fine road, the latter part of which was paved with brick, for twenty-eight miles, and reached Macerata for dinner.

This is a fine town, about the size of Libourne, built in circular form on a hill, and rising equally on all sides towards its centre. It contains very few houses of consequence, but I remarked one palace of hewn stone enriched outside with square diamonds rising to a point like the palace of the Cardinal d’Este at Ferrara,[143] a design which gives a very pleasing appearance. At the entrance of this town is a new gate with the inscription, _Porta Boncompaigno_, written in letters of gold, which gate stands on one of the roads which the reigning Pope has reinstated. The town is the residence of the legate for the Marches. On these routes they serve the travellers with wine that has been boiled, their custom being to boil it until it shall have shrunk one-half, in order to improve it. By this time we were advised by the crowds of people going and coming that we were on the road to Loreto. Besides many single pilgrims, were troops of rich people going on foot in pilgrim garb, some of these companies being distinguished by a flag and by a crucifix, which was carried in front, and by a particular sort of dress. After dinner we traversed an uninteresting country, now passing over plains and small rivers and now over gentle hills, but all the way the land was very fertile and the road for the most part paved with tiles set on edge. We passed through Recanati, a straggling town on high ground, which adapts itself to the hills and hollows of its site, and arrived in the evening at Loreto, having gone fifteen miles.

_From Civitates Orbis Terrarum_

_To face p. 196_, vol. ii.
]

Loreto is a small village enclosed with walls and fortified against attack by the Turks,[144] and built on a slightly elevated plain. It overlooks a very fair stretch of country, and is not far from the shores of the Adriatic Sea or Gulf of Venice; indeed they say that in fine weather the Sclavonic mountains on the other side may be seen. The town contains few inhabitants except those who serve the needs of the religious devotees, some as innkeepers--and their lodgings are dirty enough--and some as traffickers, that is, vendors of tapers, images, paternosters, Agnus Dei, Saviours, and wares of this sort, many of these dealers having fine and well-furnished shops, in which I, personally, left behind some fifty good crowns. The priests and church officials and the College of Jesuits are all lodged together in a large modern palace, where lives also the governor, a cleric, to whom, as representative of the legate and the Pope, all applications must be addressed.

The holy place is a little house, very old and mean, built of brick,[145] and much greater in length than in width. At the upper end thereof a barrier has been constructed, having on either side a gate of iron, and between these an iron grating, the whole fabric being rude and old and lacking in all richness of furniture. The iron grating aforesaid fills up the space between the two doors, and through it the spectator can see to the end of the recess, and the extreme end, the shrine, occupies about a fifth part of the space thus enclosed. This is the spot of the highest sanctity. There may be seen on the upper part of the wall the image of Our Lady, made, so the story goes, of wood. All the residue of the shrine is so thickly covered with rich _ex votos_ given by divers cities and princes that, right down to the ground, there is not an inch of space which is not covered with some device of gold or silver. With great difficulty and as a high favour done to me, I was able to find a place whereon I could fix a memorial device, in which were set four silver figures, that of Our Lady, my own, my wife’s, and my daughter’s. On the base of mine was engraved on the silver the inscription, “Michael Montanus Gallus Vasco, Eques Regii Ordinis, 1581.” On my wife’s, “Francisca Cassaniana, uxor,” and on my daughter’s, “Leonora Montana, filia unica.” These three are all kneeling in a row before Our Lady, who is set somewhat higher. The chapel has another entrance besides the two of which I have spoken, and any one entering it thereby will find my tablet on the left-hand side, opposite the door in the corner, the same having been very carefully fixed and nailed to the wall. I had caused a chain and ring of silver to be fitted thereto, so as to let it hang from a nail, but the chapel officials preferred to fasten it to the wall itself.[146] In this small enclosure is the fireplace of the cottage, and this they exhibit by drawing aside some ancient tapestries which hang before it. Very few persons are allowed to enter here, indeed there is a notice over the door forbidding admission to any one not furnished with the leave of the governor. These doors are of metal, very richly worked, and an iron grating is fixed in front of them.

Amongst the other rich and rare offerings left there I saw a candle recently sent by a Turk who had made a vow to Our Lady when he was in sore straits, and ready to seize upon any rope which might offer help in gaining safety. The other and the larger portion of the cottage serves as a chapel, but no daylight finds its way thereinto, and the altar is placed beneath the grating and against the partition already alluded to. In it neither ornaments, nor benches, nor chairs, nor paintings, nor wall-hangings are to be found, for it is itself a shrine. No swords or arms of any sort may be taken therein, and no respect is paid to a man because of his high rank. We partook of the Eucharist there, a privilege not granted to all, as another chapel is provided for this function on account of the vast crowds of people who commonly present themselves. So great is the throng every day in this chapel that it is necessary to be there in good time to find standing room. When I communicated a German Jesuit said mass. People are forbidden to pare off bits of the masonry; indeed were they permitted to carry away aught of the same the whole fabric would disappear in three days. They tell of innumerable miracles in relation to the place, for details of which I refer the reader to the books dealing with the same, but many have happened in recent times; also for an account of the mishaps which have befallen those who, out of devotion, have abstracted fragments of the building, even with the Pope’s warrant. Also they show a little bit of brick which had been taken away while the Council of Trent was sitting, and was brought back by miraculous agency. The cottage itself has been cased outside and strengthened by a square fabric of the most sumptuous character made of the finest marble and carved all over.[147] Few rarer or more exquisite works can be seen elsewhere. Around and above this structure is a large and beautiful church with many fine chapels and tombs, amongst which is that of the Cardinal d’Amboise,[148] which the cardinal of Armaignac[149] caused to be erected. The cottage itself serves as the choir of this church, which, however, has a choir of its own, but this is set in a corner. The whole of this great church is covered with pictures, frescoes, and painted legends,[150] and we saw therein divers rich ornamental gifts, but I was surprised not to find more, considering how ancient is the fame of this church. I have a suspicion that they melt down the old silver plate and put it to other purposes; in any case it is estimated that their annual offerings amount to ten thousand crowns of coined money. No other place I have ever visited makes so great a show of religion. All property which is lost there--and I speak of articles of silver or others not only worth picking up, but worth appropriating by people thus inclined--is deposited by the finders in a certain public receptacle provided for the purpose. Any one who may be so minded may abstract whatsoever he may desire from this receptacle without any cognisance being taken thereof. When I was there I saw many articles thus displayed, paternosters, handkerchiefs, and purses, such as none would own, all at the disposal of the first claimant. With regard to such things as you may buy and leave behind you for the sake of the church, none of the artificers thereof will accept any payment for his labour, for these craftsmen reckon that, by charging only for the silver or the wood, they themselves share the benefit of the act; anything like almsgiving or treating they steadily refuse. Likewise the church officials, who are most attentive to those who wish to confess or to partake of the communion, and in every other respect, will accept nothing for their services. The custom is to give to some one or other of them a sum of money to be distributed amongst the poor in your name after your departure. Whilst I was in the _sacrarium_ there came a man who offered to the first priest he met a silver cup because of a vow he had made; and because he had vowed an offering of the value of twelve crowns, and had laid out less than this on the cup, he paid the balance on the spot to the aforesaid priest, who had put in a plea for the payment of this sum of money as the strict due of the church, and necessary for the perfect and conscientious fulfilment of the vow. When this was done the priest led the man into the _sacrarium_ so that he might himself offer the cup to Our Lady and say a short prayer, the money being dropped into the common alms-box. Instances like this occur daily. Gifts are received in a very off-hand fashion, indeed the acceptance of them is reckoned a favour conferred.

I tarried the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning, and went away after mass. To declare my experience which I gathered in this place, where I was vastly entertained and interested, I may say that my visit coincided with that of M. Michel Marteau, Seigneur de la Chapelle, a rich young Parisian[151] travelling with a large following. I received from him and from certain of his suite a careful and detailed account of the cure of a diseased leg, which he affirmed had been brought about during a former visit of his to this place, and the account given to me of this miracle was as exact as could be. All the surgeons of Paris and Italy had been baffled, the patient had spent more than three thousand crowns, and his knee had been swollen, powerless, and very painful for the last three years. It grew worse, and more inflamed and red, so that he was thrown into a fever. For several days he had ceased to use any medicament or remedy; when, having fallen asleep, he dreamt all of a sudden that he was healed, and that a flash of light seemed to shine around him. He awoke, cried out that he was cured, called for his servants, arose from his bed, and began to walk for the first time since he had been seized with this infirmity. The swelling of the knee disappeared, the shrivelled and half-dead skin got well from that time without any further remedy. Being now completely cured, he had come back to Loreto, his cure having been worked about a month earlier, while he was here. He had been in Rome while we were staying there. These were all the authentic facts I could collect from the discourse I had with him and with his people.

The story of the miracle of the transference of this house, which is held to be the actual birthplace of Jesus Christ at Nazareth, and of its conveyance first into Sclavonia, next to a spot close hereto, and finally to this very place, is set forth on large marble tablets fixed along the pillars of the church, and written in Italian, Sclavonic, French, German, and Spanish. In the choir I saw hanging a standard of our sovereign, the only king’s device in the place. They told me that great crowds of Sclavonians are wont to come here to worship, and moreover, that as soon as they catch sight of the place from their barks at sea they set up a cry, which they let continue in the town itself, with many protestations and promises added, and beg Our Lady to return to their land, pouring out their regrets that they should have given her reason for deserting them; which thing seemed to me very marvellous.

I was told that the journey from Loreto to Naples, one I was fain to take, might be made along the sea-coast in eight easy days’ travel. I should have to go by Pescara to Chieti, whence a carrier set out for Naples every Sunday. I offered money to several of the priests, but nearly all refused to accept it, and those who took it made all sorts of demur and difficulty. In Loreto they keep their grain in vaults under the streets. On the 25th of April I presented my _ex voto_. Our journey of four days and a half from Rome to Loreto cost six crowns of fifty soldi each, for the horses, for the men who let them to us and fed them, and for ourselves. This is a bad sort of bargain to make, seeing that they always hurry you along for the sake of saving their own outlay, and treat you in very niggardly fashion.

On the 26th I went to see the Port, three miles distant, which I found to be a very fine one, and a fort overlooking it which belongs to the town of Recanati. Don Luca Giovanni, the _Beneficiale_, and Giovanni Gregorio da Cailli, _Custode della Sagrestia_, gave me their names when I was leaving, so that, in case I should need their services for myself or for others, I might write to them; moreover, I received many other courteous attentions from the aforenamed. The former is in chief authority over the small shrine, and refused all the gifts I offered him. I shall always feel under obligation to them for their courtesies of word and deed.

END OF VOL. II.

Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. Edinburgh & London

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Montaigne evidently refers to the Roman theatre situated between the Castello San Pietro and the river. Its destruction began early, as it is described as ruined in a decree of King Berengarius dated 895. Much of it remained up to the sixteenth century.

[2] Coryat, who saw it in 1608, describes it as greatly ruined and put to base uses. Much of the marble had been taken away to other buildings; but the damage was being repaired by the Veronese noblemen, who had already spent sixty-six thousand crowns over the restoration. To build it in England, he estimates, would cost two million pounds.

[3] Modern measurements are 502 feet by 401, and 98 feet high.

[4] Madonna di Campagna, one of the finest works of Sammicheli.

[5] Palladio had died a short time before Montaigne’s visit, i.e. August 19, 1580. Vicenza was at this time at the height of its beauty, all the noteworthy buildings, except the Teatro Olimpico, having been completed.

[6] The fairs of Vicenza were amongst the largest in Italy, and were instituted in the thirteenth century. During their continuance all the shops in the city had to be closed. Fairs were held up to the middle of the present century.

[7] The founder was the chief magistrate of the city, and is said to have been moved to religious enthusiasm by reading the life of S. Mary of Egypt. Montaigne is wrong in giving 1367 as the date of the foundation of the order; it was the year of Colombini’s death. The members of the order were originally laymen, and chiefly occupied in preparing drugs. Urban V. placed them under the Augustinian rule. In 1606 they were allowed to be ordained, and in 1660 were suppressed by Clement IX.

[8] It is singular that Montaigne makes no mention of the University. Italy was then the great school of fencing, as he notices in the _Essais_, ii. 27.

[9] Coryat notices this bust, and gives the inscription written by Paolo Giovio: “Petri Bembi Cardinalis imaginem Hieronymus Quirinus Ismerii filius in publico ponendam curavit: ut cujus ingenii monumenta æterna sint, ejus corporis quoque memoria ne a posteris desideretur. Vixit annos 76, M. 7, D. 29. Obiit 15 Calend. Februarii anno 1547.” Writing of the other tombs Coryat says: “Amongst others in the Cloyster I observed one that made me even lament, the monument of a certaine English Nobleman, namely, Edward Courtney, Earle of Devonshire, who was buried here in the time of Queen Mary; he died there in his youth, and was the sonne of Henry, Earle of Devonshire and Marquesse of Exceter, who was beheaded in the time of King Henry the Eighth. This Edward Courtney was afterward restored by Queen Mary. Truely it strooke great compassion and remorse in me to see an Englishman so ignobly buried, for his body lieth in a poore woodden Coffin placed upon another faire monument, having neither epitaph nor any other thing to preserve it from oblivion, so that I could not have knowne it for an Englishman’s Coffen, except an English gentleman, Mr. George Rooke, had told me of it.”--_Crudities_ (1776), vol. i. p. 176.

[10] Coryat says: “He is represented according to his olde age: for his face is made very leane and shaved.” The inscription under it, “Ve T. Livius Liviæ I. F. Quartæl. Halys concordialis Patavi sibi et suis omnibus,” has probably no reference to Livy at all. It was discovered in 1363 near the church of San Giustina and removed to the Sala della Ragione. This is the one which Montaigne mistakes for Livy’s epitaph. Another inscription records the gift of Livy’s arm-bone to Alfonso the Magnanimous in 1450. Coryat mentions a second statue of Livy, made of freestone, and says that this was the effigy brought, together with an inscription underneath, “from Saint Gustinae’s Church.” The monument at the end of the hall was erected in 1547.

[11] Julius Paulus, who wrote in the time of Alexander Severus.

[12] Henry III. He fled secretly from Cracow on hearing of the death of Charles IX. in 1574, but once clear of Poland he was in no hurry to get back to France. He spent two months in traversing Lombardy, and was regaled sumptuously by all the petty princes and nobles. The Emperor Maximilian and the Doge of Venice gave him much excellent advice, but he was only impressed by the processions and dances and fine dresses, which he proposed to reproduce in France.

[13] Fusina.

[14] Arnaud du Ferrier was a distinguished French jurisconsult. Henry II. made him President of the Chambre des Enquêtes. He represented France at the Council of Trent, and by a violent anti-Roman speech he raised a great uproar and was sent as ambassador to Venice in quasi disgrace, and there Montaigne met him. According to Brantôme he used to repair to Padua and there lecture on law. The king was greatly displeased at this and recalled him. Henry of Navarre invited him to his court and he became a Protestant. He died in 1585.

On the margin of the MS. Montaigne has written: “Ce viellard, qui a passé septante cinq ans, à ce qu’il dit, jouit d’un eage sein & enjoué. Ses façons & ses discours ont, je ne sçay quoi de scholastique, peu de vivacité et de pouinte. Ses opinions panchent fort evidamment, en matiere de nos affaires, vers les innovations Calviniennes.”

[15] A decree of the Council of Ten, July 12, 1380, ordains: “Si quis nobilis vel civis acciperet literas ab aliquo de extra de re spectante ad statum nostrum, illas capitibus Consilii tenerentur subito presentare, et Capita debeant inquirere diligenter principium talis praticæ, ut nostri cives omnino starent separati ab omni pratica et commercio dominorum et comunitatum, et ab omni pratica rei spectantis ad statum.”

[16] Fynes Moryson writes (Part iv., ed. 1903, p. 128): “I find the generall Revenue of this State valued at two millions of gold yearly, though Monsr. Villamont attributes so much to the citty of Venice alone ... and for particular cittyes these relations record, that Padoa brings yearly into the Treasure of Venice thirteene thousand Ducates; Vicenza thirtye two thousand; Verona nyntye thousand; Brescia (besydes many extraordinary Subsidyes) one hundred thousand four hundred and fyfty; Bergamo fyfty thousand; Vdane twenty fyve thousand; Trevigi fourskore thousand.” But farther on he says: “A late writer hath published in print that the generall Revenue of Venice amounts yearely to two millions of gold crowns: that the Townes yield yearely eight hundred thousand Crownes.”--A great disparity. Montaigne probably refers to the share of Venice alone.

[17] There is a life of this lady by Tassini--_Veronica Franco celebre letterata e meretrice veneziana_. She was married in her youth to one Paniza, a physician, but she left him to take up the career of a courtesan. Her name appears in that extraordinary document which the late Earl of Orford printed for private circulation in 1870: “Catalogo di tutte le principal et piu honorate Cortegiane di Venetia, il nome loro, et il nome delle loro pieze, et le stantie ove loro habitano, et di piu ancor vi narra la contrata ove sono le loro stantie, et etiam il numero de li dinari che hanno da pagar quelli gentil homini, et al che desiderano entrar nella sua gratia.” Her description runs: “204, Veronica Franca, a Santa Maria Formosa, pieza so mare 2 scudi.” In 1574 she gave up her profession, and by her wit and beauty gained a status not unlike that of her forerunners in Athens. She certainly enjoyed the friendship of divers men of note, Domenico and Marco Veniero, Marcantonio della Torre and Tintoretto. Henry III. visited her when passing through Venice and took away her portrait. In middle life she devoted herself to religion and good works, and tried to induce the Signoria to found an asylum for penitent women. She died in 1591, aged forty-five. The book she sent to Montaigne was probably _Lettere famigliari a diversi_, dedicated to Cardinal Luigi d’Este. Lord Orford evidently had not read Tassini’s book or Montaigne’s _Voyage_, otherwise he would have been able to give a more precise date to the _Catalogo_, which he puts down vaguely to the sixteenth century. According to Fynes Moryson, “the tribute to the State from the Cortizans was thought to exceede three hundreth thousand Crownes yearely.”

[18] “Il me semble avoir veu en Plutarque rendant la cause du souslevement d’estomach, qui advient à ceux qui voyagent en mer, que cela leur arrive de crainte: après avoir trouvé quelque raison, par laquelle il prouve, que la crainte peut produire un tel effet. Moy qui y suis fort sujet, sçay bien, que cette cause ne me touche pas. Et le sçay, non par argument mais par nécessaire expérience. Sans alleguer ce qu’on m’a dit, qu’il en arrive de mesme souvent aux bestes, specialement aux porceaux hors de toute apprehension de danger.... Or je ne puis souffrir longtemps ny coche, ny littière, ny bateau, et hay toute autre voiture que de cheval. Mais je puis souffrir la lictière moins qu’un coche; et par même raison plus aisément une agitation rude sur l’eau, d’où se produit la peur, que le mouvement qui se sent en temps calme. Par cette legère secousse, que les avirons donnent, desrobant le vaisseau sous nous, je me sens brouiller, je ne sçay comment, la teste et l’estomach: comme je ne puis souffrir sous moi un siège tremblant. Quand la voile ou le cours de l’eau, nous emporte esgalimët, ou qu’on nous rouë, cette agitation unie, ne me blesse aucunement. C’est un remuëment interrompu, qui m’offence: et plus, quand il est languissant. Je ne sçaurois autrement peindre sa forme. Les medecins m’ont ordonné de me presser et sangler d’une serviette le bas du ventre, pour remedier à cet accident: ce que je n’ay point essayé, ayant accoustumé de lucter les defauts qui sont en moy, et les dompter par moy-mesme.”--_Essais_, iii. 6.

[19] These baths were famous in Roman times--_Fons Aponus_. Livy, Valerius Flaccus, and Pietro d’Abano, the great mediæval physician, were born here. The baths have been restored, and are now crowded in the season.

[20] This statement helps to account for the curious brevity of Montaigne’s stay in Venice. The abbey in question is Praglia, a Benedictine house of great repute for its wealth and liberality.

[21] Nicola di Cusa, a learned mathematician, a German by birth. His work deals chiefly with statics, or rather with the weight of bodies in water. He also put forth an ingenious hypothesis as to the motion of the earth. His works were published at Basel in 1565.

[22] San Pietro Montagnon, a bath still in use. There is another San Pietro in Bagno near Cesena.

[23] Probably Prèchac, a bath much frequented, lying near Dax in Navarre. Munster, _Cosmog._, i. 375, commends the baths of this region.

[24] Luigi d’Este, brother of Alfonso II. of Ferrara. He was one of Tasso’s earliest patrons, and took him to Paris in 1570. He was only in deacon’s orders, and, from Montaigne’s remarks, was evidently a free liver. In 1561 he was made cardinal, and died in 1586.

[25] Battaglia, about five miles beyond Abano.

[26] Frassine, a canalised river, which joins the Fratta and runs parallel with the Adige to the sea.

[27] The secretary.

[28] The baths of S. Elena. They were probably known to the Romans, but their modern use dates from the middle of the fifteenth century, when they were brought to notice by Giov. Dondi. Later on, in the seventeenth century, Il Dottore Selvatico restored the bath-houses, and greatly increased the repute of the place.

[29] San Pietro Montagnon, near Abano.

[30] The secretary seems to have been still absent at this point, as the narrative is written in the third person, but for the sake of coherence it seems better to keep to the first.

[31] Adige.

[32] Luigi Ricchieri, one of the first of the Humanists.

[33] Alfonso II., son of Ercole II. and Renée of France. D’Estissac was the bearer of letters of commendation from Henry III. and the Queen Mother to the Duke of Ferrara.

[34] In the church of S. Benedetto. It is now removed to the library.

[35] Margherita Gonzaga, whom Alfonso married in 1579. She was the daughter of Guglielmo, Duke of Mantua.

[36] It is strange that Montaigne should have made no allusion in his journal to a visit which he paid to Tasso, who had been imprisoned the year before in the hospital of S. Anna at Ferrara. In _Essais_ ii. 12 he writes: “Platon dit les mélancholiques plus disciplinables et excellens; aussi n’en est-il point qui ayent tant de propension à la folie. Infinis esprits se treuvent ruinez par leur propre force et soupplesse. Quel saut vient de prendre de sa propre agitation et allegresse, l’un des plus judicieux, ingenieux, et plus formez à l’air de cette antique et pure Poësie, qu’autre Poëte Italien aye jamais este? N’a-il pas de quoy sçavoir gré à cette sienne vivacité meurtrière? à cette clarté qui l’a aveuglé? à cette exacte et tenduë apprehension de la raison, qu’il a mis sans raison? à la curieuse et laborieuse queste des Sciences, qui l’a conduict à la bestise? à cette rare aptitude aux exercises de l’ame qui l’a rendu sans exercise et sans ame? J’eus plus de dépit encore que de compassion de le voir à Ferrare en si pitieux estat, survivant à soy mesme, mescognoisant et soy et ses ouvrages; les quels sans son sçeu et toutefois à sa veuë, on a mis en lumière incorrigez et informe.”

[37] Bologna.

[38] The Collegio di Spagna, the only separate college which still exists, was founded by Cardinal d’Albornoz in 1364. There was doubtless a French college for students at the time of Montaigne’s visit.

[39] This fountain was built while Cardinal Borromeo was legate. It was designed by Lauretti, a Sicilian, the statues being the work of Gian Bologna.

[40] Spoleto and the Bolognese territories as well were greatly overrun with brigands at this period. Large bands of armed ruffians ranged the country, nominally fighting one another, but really robbing and murdering the helpless peasants. One band, that of Sassomolari, was estimated to number four or five hundred men. Brigandage was not put down till the pontificate of Sixtus V.

[41] Lojano.

[42] I fuochi di Pietramala. There are emanations of coal gas from the rocks. At Acqua Buja, about a mile distant, the gas rises through the water of a small lake and ignites if fire be applied to it.

[43] Pratolino, a villa built in 1573 by Francesco dei Medici, Grand Duke of Florence. Little now remains of it save some out-buildings, the colossal statue of L’Appennino, and some of the waterworks in which Montaigne found so much to admire. It was built from the design of Bernardo Buontalenti, but some portions--not the statue aforesaid--were the work of Gian Bologna. The villa seems to have been in existence at the beginning of the present century. The park now belongs to Prince Demidoff.

[44] This alley is still in existence.

[45] L’Appennino, erroneously attributed to Gian Bologna. It was repaired in 1877 by Prince Demidoff.

[46] These were in the Piazza S. Marco. They were built by Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, in 1515. In 1550 Cosimo transferred to an adjoining site the wild animals which had been hitherto kept in the Palazzo Vecchio. The Grand Duke alluded to was Francesco, son of Cosimo I.

[47] This was the Strozzi whose tomb Montaigne had recently visited at Epernay (vol. i. p. 31). He was defeated by the Spaniards and Imperialists at Lucignano in 1554.

[48] The statues in the Medici Chapel.

[49] In _Essais_, iii. 5, he writes in a more charitable strain: “Ceux qui connoissent l’Italie, ne trouveront jamais estrange, si pour ce sujet je ne cherche ailleurs des examples. Car cette nation se peut dire regente du reste du Monde en cela. Ils ont plus communément de belles femmes, et moins de laides que nous: mais des rares et excellentes beautez, j’estime que nous allons à pair.”

[50] “L’hostelerie de l’Ange,” probably now “L’albergo dell’ Agnolo” in the Borgo S. Lorenzo.

[51] Members of both these families had migrated to France.

[52] The battle of Marciano. The great hall in the Palazzo Vecchio was painted by Vasari to celebrate the triumphs of Cosimo I.

[53] The notorious Bianca Capello. The Grand Duke had married her the preceding year. The almost simultaneous death of these two at Poggio a Cajano in 1587 is one of the mysterious crimes of history.

[54] _De ma taille._ Although the secretary is writing the comparison is evidently with Montaigne himself.

[55] Ferdinando, son of Cosimo I. He renounced his orders and succeeded his brother in 1587. He also was at Poggio when the tragedy happened, and it was commonly believed that Bianca intended to poison him, but Duke Francesco inadvertently drank the poisoned wine. The younger brother was probably Giovanni, a son of Cosimo I. by Eleanora d’Albizzi, born in 1562. The tragic fate of this prince and of his brother Garcia is one of the mysteries of Italian family crime.

[56] Petraja.

[57] The image of the Chimera, now in the Etruscan Museum. It was dug up at Arezzo in 1559.

[58] Catherine dei Medici.

[59] This is probably one of those traveller’s hasty generalisations which Montaigne occasionally lets drop. In his second visit he modified several of his earlier statements, and a very slight inquiry would have served to show him that letters still flourished in Florence, though not so freely as in the golden time of the earlier Medici. The _Accademia Fiorentina_ was founded in 1540, and the year following his visit saw the beginning of the Della Crusca.