THE JOURNAL OF
MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS
IN ITALY
[Illustration:
Art Repro Co.
_Tomb of Michel de Montaigne at Bordeaux._]
THE JOURNAL OF
MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS
IN ITALY BY WAY OF SWITZERLAND
AND GERMANY
IN 1580 AND 1581
TRANSLATED AND EDITED
WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
BY W. G. WATERS
AUTHOR OF “JEROME CARDAN,” ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. II
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1903
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
V. ITALY 1
VI. JOURNEY TO ROME 60
VII. ROME 73
VIII. ROME TO LORETO 180
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
VOL. II
MONTAIGNE’S TOMB (_Photogravure_) _Frontispiece_
VERONA _To face page_ 2
VENICE ” 14
VENICE ” 18
FOUNTAIN AT BOLOGNA ” 38
THE ROMAN FORUM FROM THE CAPITOL ” 74
CLOACA MAXIMA ” 94
THE VILLA OF MECÆNAS ” 98
TEMPLE OF JANUS ” 98
ISLAND ON THE TIBER ” 126
THE PANTHEON ” 156
TIVOLI ” 166
THE VILLA D’ESTE AT TIVOLI ” 166
LORETO ” 196
THE TEMPLE OF THE SIBYL AT TIVOLI ” 174
PALAZZO FARNESE ” 178
THE JOURNAL OF MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS IN ITALY
V
ITALY
[Illustration: VERONA
_Reproduced from Civitates Orbis Terrarum_
_To face p. 2_, vol. ii.
]
Verona is about the size of Poitiers, having a vast quay beside the
Adisse, which flows through it and is crossed by three bridges. I went
thither also with the baggage. Without the bulletins of health, which
had been issued at Trante and confirmed at Rovere, our party would
not have been admitted within the town; not that there was any talk
of danger of the plague, but this is always done by custom or by way
of tricking wayfarers out of a few coins. We went to the cathedral,
where M. de Montaigne remarked on the strange behaviour of those
present at High Mass on such a solemn day. They chattered in the
very choir of the church, standing with their hats on, and turning
their backs to the altar, and recking naught of the office except at
the time of elevation. There were an organ and violins, which gave
musical accompaniment to the mass. We visited other churches, but saw
nothing noteworthy, either in the ornaments or in the beauty of the
women present. Amongst others we went to the church of Saint George,
where the Germans have left divers marks of their presence and several
coats-of-arms, together with an inscription relating how certain German
noblemen in the train of the Emperor Maximilian, what time he came to
take Verona from the Venetians, placed a certain piece of work over
one of the altars. M. de Montaigne remarked that the government here
preserved the memory of its reverses, as it also preserved in their
integrity the beautiful tombs of the ill-starred Scaligers. It is a
fact that our host of the “Chevalet,” an excellent house, where we
found a superfluity of good fare and a bill one-fourth more than we
would have paid in France, enjoyed the privilege of burying his family
in one of the tombs aforesaid. We also visited, under the guidance
of the castellan’s lieutenant, the castle where the government keeps
on foot sixty soldiers; more, as M. de Montaigne was informed, as a
safeguard against the townsfolk than against foreign foes; and then
went to a religious house occupied by Jesuates de Saint Jerosme. These
are not priests, neither do they say mass or preach, being for the most
part ignorant, but they are skilful distillers of citron and other
sorts of water, both here and in other places. They wear white frocks,
small white caps, and over this a cloak of dark russet, and are very
fine young men. Their church is excellently appointed, as is also their
refectory, in which supper was already laid.
We saw likewise some very ancient masonry of the Roman period which
is said to be an amphitheatre,[1] and the people make great boast of
this, and also of certain other portions which have been uncovered
below. On returning to the monastery we found that the cloisters were
full of perfume, and afterwards they led us into a small room full of
phials and earthen vessels, where we also were perfumed. The finest
thing we saw, and what M. de Montaigne declared to be the grandest
building he had ever seen, was what they call the Arena. This is an
amphitheatre of oval shape which seems to be almost perfect; the seats,
the vaulting, and the surrounding walls are sound, save the extreme
outside portion. In fine, enough is there to give a vivid impression
of the form and of the use for which such buildings were constructed.
The government employs there the penal labour of criminals, and has
thus repaired a portion of the damage, but much yet remains to be
done before it will be in its ancient state,[2] and it is doubtful
whether the whole efforts of the city will be able to accomplish this
rebuilding. The place is oval in shape, and contains forty-three rows
of seats, each a foot or rather more in height, the measure of the
circumference at the highest point being some six hundred paces.[3] The
gentlefolk of the country still use it for jousting and other public
games.
M. de Montaigne also saw somewhat of the Jews, having visited their
synagogue and held long converse concerning their ceremonies. The
city has many fine squares and market-places, and from the castle,
which stands on high ground, we could discern Mantua, which lay some
twenty miles distant to the right of our road. Here there is no want
of inscriptions, seeing that they never renew a gutter, either in the
towns or along the highways, without inscribing thereupon the names of
the Podestà and of the artificer. Like the Germans they nearly all use
some armorial device, traders as well as others. In Germany indeed, not
only the towns, but also the larger portion of the villages lay claim
to exhibit their coats-of-arms.
We quitted Verona, and on our way out of the city we saw the church of
Our Lady of Miracles,[4] famous by reason of certain marvellous things
which have there come to pass. On account of these manifestations, the
church has been rebuilt after a beautiful circular design. Some of the
bell-towers are covered with brickwork laid crosswise. We traversed a
flat country of varied character, fertile here and barren there, the
mountains on our left hand being far distant, with some on the right
also, and rode thirty miles in one stretch to Vicenza where we supped.
This is a handsome town, somewhat smaller than Verona, and full of
noblemen’s palaces.[5] On the morrow we visited several churches and
saw the fair, which was at that time being held in the great square,
many shops having been built of wood especially for the occasion.[6] We
also visited the house of the Jesuates, which is a very handsome one,
and saw their store of distilled water, for the public sale of which
they keep a shop. We bought two bottles of scent for a crown. They make
likewise medicinal draughts for all sorts of maladies. The founder of
this order was P. Urb. S. Jan Colombin,[7] a noble of Siena, who made
the foundation in 1367, and it is at present under the protection of
the Cardinal de Peluco. They have thirty monasteries, all of which are
in Italy, and their house here is a very beautiful one. It is said they
scourge themselves every day, and they keep little chains in their
cells, where they pray without singing, and for a certain time during
the day they meet together.
At this place we failed to get old wine, which troubled me greatly on
account of M. de Montaigne’s colic; for he had to drink thick wine
instead of the good wine we had got up to this time. We thought of the
German wines with regret, though they are for the most part spiced and
diverse in their odour, and though they have a liquorish flavour like
sage; indeed, they call one of them _vin de sauge_, which is pleasant
enough when the palate is wonted thereto, seeing that it is also
good and generous. We set out from this place on the Thursday after
dinner by a road very level, wide, straight, ditched on both sides and
slightly raised above the plain. On either hand the country was very
fertile, and the mountains, as before, were in the far distance. After
a journey of eighteen miles we reached Padua in time for bed.
Here the hostelries can in no respect be compared with those of
Germany. Certes they are less costly by one-third, and resemble those
of France. The city is goodly, wide in extent, and in my opinion holds
within its bounds an area at least as big as that of Bordeaux; but
the streets are narrow and ugly, lacking both in people and in seemly
dwellings. Its situation is very pleasant, in an open plain stretching
wide on every side. We tarried here all the following day and saw the
schools of fencing, dancing, and equitation,[8] at which more than a
hundred French gentlemen were at this time seeking instruction. M.
de Montaigne deemed that it worked greatly to the detriment of these
young countrymen of ours that they should thus live together and
still practise the customs and language of their native land, letting
go the chance of making acquaintance with strangers. He was vastly
pleased with the church of St. Antony, the cupola of which is not
constructed whole in itself, but of several sections made into the form
of a dome; the church likewise contains much rare sculpture work in
marble and bronze. M. de Montaigne saw with much pleasure the portrait
bust of Cardinal Bembo,[9] which bears all the marks of a refined
character and an indefinable something testifying to the gracefulness
of his intellect. The hall where justice is dispensed is the largest
unsupported by pillars I ever saw, and at one end thereof is the head
of Titus Livius, figuring him an emaciated man of a studious and
melancholy temper.[10] This is an ancient work of which naught is known
save by tradition. His epitaph is there also, having been set, as was
its due, in a place of honour after its discovery. Over one of the
doors of this palace is a figure of Paul the jurisconsult,[11] but this
M. de Montaigne pronounced to be a modern work. A house standing on the
site of the ancient arena in a garden is worth a visit.
Students can live here cheaply at seven crowns a month for the master
and six for the servant in respectable boarding-houses. We left early
on the Saturday morning, traversing a very fine road beside the river,
and having on either hand fields very fertile with corn, and well
shaded by rows of trees, upon which the vines were trained. All along
the road fine pleasure houses had been built, and over the gate of one
of these belonging to the Contarini is an inscription telling how the
king[12] lodged here on his way back from Poland. After travelling
twenty miles we stopped for dinner at Chaffousine,[13] which is naught
but an inn, and here we took boat for Venice. Here they bring ashore
all the boats with machinery and pulleys worked by two horses after
the fashion of an oil mill. They move their boats by means of wheels
placed underneath, which run along planks and thereby convey them over
to the canal which runs into the sea on which Venice is situated. We
took dinner at Chaffousine, and, having embarked in a gondola, arrived
at Venice in time for supper after travelling five miles.
[Illustration: VENICE
_To face p. 14_, vol. ii.
]
On the morning of the morrow, Sunday, M. de Montaigne saw M. de
Ferrier,[14] the king’s ambassador, who welcomed him heartily and took
him to Mass and back to his house to dinner. On the Monday he and M.
d’Estissac again dined there. One remark let fall by the ambassador
amongst divers others seemed to him very strange, to wit, that he (the
ambassador) held no conversation with the people of the city, who
were of a humour so suspicious that should one of their number speak
to him only twice, this one would be looked upon askance.[15] M. de
Ferrier also informed him that the city of Venice brought an annual
income of fifteen hundred thousand crowns to the Signory.[16] With
regard to the curiosities of the place they are familiar enough, and
M. de Montaigne said that he had found Venice different from what he
had anticipated, and that, after he had made a diligent visitation of
the city, he was somewhat disappointed. The government, the situation,
the arsenal, the Place of St. Mark, and the vast crowds of foreigners,
seemed to him most worthy of remark of anything he saw. On Monday
November, 6, while he sat at supper, the Signora Veronica Franca,[17]
a noble Venetian lady, sent for his acceptance a little book of
letters which she had put together, whereupon he gave two crowns to
the bearer. On the Tuesday after dinner he had an attack of colic
which lasted two or three hours; it was not, as far as could be seen,
one of his worst, and before supper he passed two large stones, one
after the other. He failed to perceive in the women of Venice that
great beauty for which they are famed. He saw some of the highest
class of those who make a market of their charms, and this institution
appeared to him more marvellous than any other of the city, to see
such a vast number of them, some hundred and fifty, spending money
like princesses over furniture and attire, with no other source of
income than the traffic aforesaid. Again, divers of the nobles of the
city entertained courtesans at their own charges in the sight of every
one. M. de Montaigne hired for his use a gondola for day and night as
well at a charge of two livres, about seventeen sous, with no extra
expenditure for the boatman. Provisions are as dear here as in Paris,
but it is the cheapest town in the world for living, for a train of
servants is here quite useless, and every one goes about unattended.
The cost of apparel is in like degree moderate; moreover, no one has
occasion for a horse. On Saturday the twelfth of November we left and
returned to Chaffousine, a distance of five miles, and here we and
our servants and baggage got on board a boat, for which we paid two
crowns. M. de Montaigne was somewhat in fear of water transit, being
advised that it deranged his stomach;[18] and now, being minded to
ascertain whether the motion on this river, which indeed is most steady
and uniform provided that the boat be drawn by horses, would cause him
inconvenience, he made trial of it and found that he suffered no ill
effects therefrom. On this channel we had to pass one or two lock gates
which open and shut to the passers-by. After a voyage of twenty miles
by water we reached Padua in time for bed.
[Illustration: VENICE
_To face p. 18_, vol. ii.
]
M. de Caselis here parted company with us and tarried in Padua on a
pension of seven crowns a month for good food and lodging. He might
have taken his valet for five crowns; the pensions here are of the
highest class and frequented by the best of company, for instance the
Sieur de Millan, son of M. de Salignac. As a rule the guests have no
servants of their own, but are served by the valet of the house, or by
women. Each guest has an excellent room, and finds his own fuel and
light; the catering, as we had reason to know, being very good. Living
in this manner is exceedingly cheap, and this in my opinion is the
reason why so many strangers who are no longer students resort hither.
It is not the custom to ride through the streets or to be attended by
servants. In Germany we noted that all men down to the hand workers
carried swords, a practice not adopted in this country. After dinner
on Sunday, November 12, we went to see the baths to the right of the
city, going to Abano[19] direct. This is a small village at the very
foot of the mountains. Three or four hundred paces beyond it is a
rocky plateau, somewhat higher than the ground adjacent, and on this
elevation, which is of considerable extent, several springs of hot
water issue from the rocks, which water cannot be used at the source
for the bath--and much less for drinking--on account of its great
heat. Wherever it runs it leaves a grey trace like burnt cinder and a
heavy deposit which resembles petrified sponge, its taste being salt
and sulphurous. Indeed the whole region is perfumed thereby, for the
brooks, which run in all directions over the level ground, convey to a
great distance the heat and the smell aforesaid.
Two or three small houses, ill enough furnished, serve the needs of
the patients, the water being brought to the baths in the houses by
channels from the springs. Exhalations rise not only from the water
itself, but also from every crack and crevice of the rocks, which give
out heat everywhere, so that the people there have dug out certain
places in which a man may lie down and get the heat of the exhalations
and fall into a sweat. M. de Montaigne took a little of the water in
his mouth, after it had lost its excessive heat by standing awhile, and
found it tasted more of salt than of anything else.
Furthermore to the right of this place we perceived the abbey of Praie,
noted for its wealth, its beauty, and its liberal and courteous
reception of strangers. M. de Montaigne would not go there, having
settled with himself that it behoved him to revisit all these parts,
and especially Venice, at his leisure, and that this present visit was
as nothing.[20] He had simply gone to see Venice, attracted by the
exceedingly great renown of the city, and affirmed that he would tarry
neither at Rome nor elsewhere in Italy without having paid another
visit to Venice. Reckoning on this event, he left at Padua, in charge
of M. François Bourges, a Frenchman, the works of Cardinal Cusan[21]
which he had purchased in Venice. From Abano we went to a place called
S. Pietro,[22] lying low, and as we went we had the mountains close
to us on our right hand. This is a land of meadows and pasturage, but
the air is thick in certain spots with the vapour of the hot springs,
some boiling hot and some lukewarm: some springs indeed are quite cold.
The taste is somewhat flatter and more insipid than that of the other
springs, and there is less of the odour of sulphur and the taste of
salt. We came upon some traces of ancient buildings, and two or three
mean hovels for the lodging of guests; but in truth the place is very
barbarous, and I would be sorry to send thither any friend of mine. The
report is that the Signiory sets little store by such places, and looks
askance at the prospect of an influx thither of gentlefolk from foreign
parts. M. de Montaigne said that these last-named baths reminded him of
those of Preissac[23] near to Aix. The water thereof leaves a reddish
trace, and a deposit like mud on the tongue. He could detect no special
taste, and fancied it was charged with iron.
On our departure from this place we passed a very fine house belonging
to a Paduan gentleman, where M. le Cardinal d’Este[24] was then
sojourning. He was sick with gout and had been there more than two
months for the sake of the baths, but more on account of the near
vicinity of the ladies of Venice and all sorts of diversion. Thence
we travelled eight miles to Bataille,[25] where we arrived in time
for bed. This is a small village on the canal of Fraichine[26] which,
having not more than two or three feet of water, is navigated by boats
of a very strange fashion. There we were served on earthen dishes and
on plates of wood and not of pewter, but otherwise we did not fare
badly. On the Monday morning I myself[27] went on ahead with the mule
while the others visited the baths[28] situated some five hundred
paces distant along the bank of the canal. From M. de Montaigne’s
description, they found there only one bath-house, with ten or twelve
chambers. In May and August a number of visitors come, but these for
the most part lodge in the village or in the castle of Seigneur Pic,
where also lodged M. le Cardinal d’Este. The bathwater comes down from
a small mountain ridge, and runs through channels into the houses
below. The patients do not drink thereof but rather of the water of S.
Pierre[29] which is fetched for them. The water in its descent from the
ridge runs beside other channels of good sweet water, and it is hotter
or colder in ratio to the length of its course. M. de Montaigne was
for investigating the source up above, but no one could point it out
to him, and indeed it appeared that it had a subterraneous origin. He
found that it left little taste in the mouth, like that of S. Pierre,
and that it was scarcely sulphurous or salt at all; moreover, that
its effect when drunk would resemble that of the water aforesaid. In
the bath-house there are other chambers where the water only comes in
by drops under which any affected member is placed, and they told M.
de Montaigne that the forehead was the part most often treated for
ailments of the head. At certain points on these channels small cabins
of stone have been constructed, to which the patients may repair, and
having opened the hole communicating with the channel, they quickly
fall into a sweat through the exhalations and heat of the water. There
are also rooms for dry heat, made in various fashions, but mud baths
are what they chiefly use. This treatment is practised in a large
bath below the bath-house and open to the sky, fitted with a machine
by which the mud is pumped up to the house adjacent. Here are provided
divers appliances of wood made to fit each limb--legs, arms, thighs
and other parts--wherein the member to be treated is placed and the
appliance filled with mud, which is renewed as often as is needed.
This mud is as black as that of Barbotan, but less full of grains
and more greasy, moderately hot and quite odourless. The nearness to
Venice is the only advantage which any of these baths possesses, all
the surroundings being gross and unrefined. Near this spot we[30]
came to the bridge over the canal which is known as the Canal of the
Two Thoroughfares, which pass both below and above it. Here they have
constructed causeways, which on the outside are on a level with the
roads along which the traffic passes, and on the inside slope down to
the level of the waterway. Here is built a stone bridge of two arches
over which the canal is carried, and above this bridge is built another
from one bank to the other, for the service of those who may want to
cross the canal, and under it go the boats which traverse the waterway.
Here also descends from the mountains a large stream, which, after
flowing through the plain, crosses the course of the canal; and it was
to compass this passage without any interruption to the navigation that
the first-named two-arched bridge was constructed. The stream, which
itself is of volume sufficient to float small boats, here passes under
the canal, its sides being faced with wooden planks. So that, reckoning
this stream, and the canal itself, and the bridge crossing the same,
there are three routes in use one over the other.
From hence onwards, the canal being left on the right hand, the road
passed by a small town called Montselise which, though it lies very
low, was enclosed by a wall carried almost to the top of the mountain.
Within this wall stood an ancient castle belonging to the former
lords of the place and now a heap of ruins. At this point, leaving the
mountains to the right, we kept to the left along a fine level raised
road, which at certain seasons of the year must be well shaded. On
either side lay a very fertile plain, the several cornfields thereof
being thickly planted with rows of trees from which hung the vines, as
is the usage in this country. Hereabout so many great grey oxen are
seen that their presence did not cause in us the surprise we had felt
at the sight of those belonging to the Archduke Fernand.
We found ourselves now upon a high bank made beside the river, with
marshes on either side more than fifteen miles in extent, and as wide
as the eye could compass. In other days there were extensive swamps
which the Signiory attempted to drain and bring under cultivation. In
some places success has been achieved, but in very few. At present the
view is over a muddy sterile country, thick set with cane growth, the
attempt to change its character having resulted in loss rather than
gain. We crossed the Adisse[31] on a floating bridge which was placed
on two small boats, and was capable of carrying fifteen or twenty
horses; passing over by a rope fastened to a point some five hundred
paces distant in the water. To keep this rope aloft several small boats
are stationed here and there and fitted with forked poles which hold up
the long cord. After a journey of twenty-five miles we arrived in time
for bed at Rovigo, a small town belonging to the Signiory aforesaid.
Here they gave us salt in lumps, which the people take as if it were
sugar. There is as great abundance of provision here as in France,
in spite of what has been said to the contrary. They do not lard
their roast meat, but the savour thereof is not much affected by this
omission. The chambers in the matter of glass windows and shutters are
inferior to our own, but the beds are better made and smoother, with an
abundant supply of mattresses. They are fitted, however, almost always
with small ill-fashioned canopies, and the supply of white sheets
is meagre. Of these, indeed, a solitary traveller, or one with mean
equipage, would most likely go lacking altogether. Charges were the
same, or perhaps a trifle higher than in France. In this town was born
the good Celius, surnamed _Rodoginus_.[32] It is a very handsome place
with a fine square, and the river Adisse flowing through it.
On the morning of Tuesday, November 15, we departed, and after going
some long distance along a causeway like the one at Blois, we crossed,
first the Adisse and then the Po on floating bridges like that of
the day antecedent, save that on the bridges last-named are cabins
where they take payment for the transit according to the printed and
prescribed regulations, and, moreover, stop the raft in the middle of
the stream to do their reckoning and exact payment from all passengers
before suffering them to land. After disembarking on a low-lying plain,
over which the road must be impassable in rainy weather, we journeyed
in one spell to Ferrara, arriving there at eventide, after travelling
twenty miles.
Here on account of the Manifest and bill of health we were kept a
long time at the gate, a delay which had also happened to us at other
places. The city is about the size of Tours and lies in a very level
country. The palaces are numerous; the greater part of the streets are
wide and straight and very scantily peopled. On the Wednesday morning
M. de Montaigne and M. d’Estissac went to kiss the duke’s[33] hands;
their intention having been made known to him, he sent a gentleman of
the court to receive them and conduct them into his cabinet, where he
was with two or three others. We went through several private chambers,
in which we saw divers well-dressed gentlemen, and then entered the
duke’s presence. We found him standing by a table awaiting us. He
raised his hand to his cap when we entered and remained uncovered
during the whole of the conversation, which was somewhat lengthy. First
of all he asked of M. de Montaigne whether he could speak the language
of the country, and, being answered affirmatively, he said in most
eloquent wise, speaking Italian, that it pleased him greatly to see
gentlemen of our nation, he himself being the very obedient servant of
his most Christian Majesty. They conversed together on several other
matters, and then we retired, the duke having kept himself uncovered
all through the interview.
In one of the churches we saw an effigy of Ariosto,[34] the face being
somewhat fuller than in the one given in his works. He died at the age
of fifty-nine on June 6, 1533. Here they served us fruit on plates.
The streets are all paved with bricks, but the arcades, which are
everywhere to be found in Padua, and are vastly convenient for walking
at all times under cover and free from mire, are wanting. In Venice
the streets are paved in similar fashion and on the slope, so there is
never any mud. I forgot to remark that the day we quitted Venice we met
a number of boats filled with fresh water, the contents of a boat being
worth a crown in Venice, where it is used for drinking or dyeing cloth.
After we got to Fusina we saw how the water was raised from a stream
and turned into a canal by means of a wheel kept going without ceasing
by horses. The boats aforesaid lie beneath the mouth of the canal and
are there loaded with water.
We spent all this day at Ferrara and visited there many fine churches,
gardens, and private houses, and all that was by report worth seeing;
amongst other things, a rose bush at the monastery of the Jesuates
which flowers all the year round, and even now they found thereon
a rose which they gave to M. de Montaigne. We saw likewise the
_Bucentaur_, which the duke, in emulation of the one at Venice, had
caused to be built for his new wife,[35] who is fair and far too young
for him, in order that she may sail in the same on the river Po. Next
we visited the duke’s arsenal, where there is a piece of ordnance
thirty-five spans in length and having a bore one foot in diameter.
The thick new wine which we drank and the turbid water drawn from the
river made M. de Montaigne fear an attack of colic. On the door of
every room in the inn is an inscription, “_Ricordati della boletta_,”
and immediately a stranger arrives he must needs send his name and the
number of his attendants to the magistrate, who will then give orders
for lodgment, but if this be not done no one will take them in. On the
Thursday morning we set forth[36] over a level, very fertile country,
and one hard to be traversed by foot passengers should the ways be
miry, because the soil of Lombardy is very sticky. Moreover, the
roads being banked on either side, there is not space enough to allow
foot travellers to escape the mud by walking on the unbroken ground,
wherefore many of the country folk go shod with shoes half a foot high.
We arrived at Boulougne[37] in the evening, after travelling thirty
miles without a halt.
[Illustration: FOUNTAIN AT BOLOGNA
_To face p. 38_, vol. ii.
]
This is a fine handsome town, larger and much more populous than
Ferrara. At the same house in which we lodged the young Seigneur de
Montluc had arrived an hour sooner than ourselves, having come from
France to this city to learn riding and the use of arms. On the Friday
we witnessed some sword play by a certain Venetian, who boasted of
having discovered some new tricks in the art of fencing, all the others
following his lead; in sooth his style differs vastly from the ordinary
sword exercise. The best of his pupils was a young Bordelais named
Binet. We saw there a square clock tower, very ancient, which leaned
over so much that it threatened to fall in ruins; also the School of
Sciences, which is the finest building devoted to such uses I ever
beheld. On the Saturday after dinner we saw a play by the comedians,
with which M. de Montaigne was highly pleased, but from this, or some
other cause, he was troubled afterwards with headache, a distemper
which had not molested him for several years, but it passed away
during the night. Moreover at this time he professed to be freer of
pain in the kidneys than for a long while, and rejoiced in digestive
powers as sane as when he returned from Banieres.
This city is everywhere adorned with fine rich porticoes and a
multitude of beautiful palaces. The cost of living here was very cheap,
about the same as at Padua, but the city is turbulent in some of the
older parts, which are divided between the ancient families of the
city, some of whom favour the French[38] and others the Spaniards,
who abound. In the great square is a very beautiful fountain.[39] On
Sunday M. de Montaigne had made up his mind to take the left-hand road
towards Imola, the March of Ancona and Loreto, on the way to Rome,
but a certain German told him that he had been plundered by outlaws
in the duchy of Spoleto,[40] so he followed the highway to the right
to Florence. We found ourselves at once on a rough road and in a
mountainous country. After a sixteen-mile journey we rested for the
night at Loyan,[41] a small and disagreeable village. In this place
are only two hostelries, and these are famous all through Italy for
the ill-faith there kept with travellers; how the host regales them
with fair promises of all sorts of good cheer before they alight, and
afterwards, when the strangers are at his mercy, will laugh in their
faces. Concerning this are some well-known proverbs. We left early
next morning and travelled till evening over a road which, certes, was
the only bad one we had yet met with. The mountains too gave more
trouble than in any other part of our journeying. We lay that night,
after riding four-and-twenty miles, at Scarperia, a small village of
Tuscany. Here they sell cases of needles and scissors and other similar
wares. M. de Montaigne was there greatly diverted over the dispute of
the innkeepers. These people are wont to despatch lackeys distances of
seven or eight leagues to meet strangers, and to urge them to alight
at their employer’s inn. It is no rare thing to find the host himself
on horseback, and often a troop of men finely clad will follow on your
track. All along this road M. de Montaigne was fain to jest with them,
being vastly amused at the various offers every one of them made to
him, and there was nothing they would not promise. One went so far as
to offer the gift of a hare if only he would patronise a particular
inn. This wrangle and grabbing ceased whenever we reached the town
gates, beyond which they dare not say a word on the subject.
A general practice with all innkeepers is to offer at their own charges
a guide on horseback to show the way, and to carry some portion of the
baggage to the lodging taken. I know not whether they are obliged by
law to do this on account of the insecurity of the highways. At Lojano,
and in travelling from Boulougne, we always made a bargain as to price
paid and accommodation received, and now, on account of the urgency of
the innkeepers and others, M. de Montaigne sent forward always some
one or other of the company to inspect the rooms, the provisions, and
the wines, and to gather knowledge as to how he would fare, before he
should get off his horse. Then he would go to the house of which he
got the best report. But the most careful specification will not guard
entirely against the knavery of these people, for they will keep you
short either of wood, or candles, or linen, or of horse provender,
which you may have forgotten to mention. Many travellers pass along
this route, as it is the high road to Rome. I was informed of a
foolish omission on my part, to wit, that I had neglected to visit, ten
miles on this side of Lojano and two miles off the road, the summit
of a mountain from which, in times of rain and storm or in the night,
lofty flames may be seen to issue.[42] My informant told me that at
certain times it sent forth with a mighty shock small pieces of metal
of the shape of coins. This is a sight which ought not to have been
missed.
On the morning of the morrow we left Scarperia with our host as guide,
traversing a fine road through poplars and well-tilled slopes. At the
second mile we turned off the road to the right to see the palace
which the Duke of Florence has been building for the last two years,
using all the five senses in its embellishment. It seems as if he had
advisedly chosen an inconvenient, sterile, and monotonous site--for
instance, there is no water--in order that he might have the honour
of fetching the same five miles’ distance, and his sand and lime
another five. The site is nowhere level, and gives a view of several of
those small hills which are everywhere a feature in this region. The
palace itself is called Pratellino.[43] Seen from afar, the building
has a mean aspect, but a close inspection shows it very fair, but not
equal to the finest of our French mansions. They say it contains a
hundred-and-twenty furnished chambers, and ten or twelve of the finest
of these we saw, the furniture being pretty but not magnificent. There
are several curiosities, a grotto constructed with divers niches and
apartments which exceeds anything of the kind we have seen elsewhere.
It is encrusted and modelled all through with a certain material
brought from the mountains, the joints being fastened together with
invisible nails. Not only is music and harmony made to sound by water
power; statues move and doors open, animals dive and drink, and other
similar results are caused by the same force. By a single movement the
whole grotto can be filled with water, and all the seats will squirt
water over your breech; then, as you flee from the grotto and run up
the staircase into the mansion on the other side, a pleasant trick will
make the water stream from two of the steps in a thousand jets which
drench you till you reach the top. The beauty and splendour of this
place cannot be set forth properly by details. Below the mansion is an
alley, fifty feet wide and about five hundred paces in length, which at
great cost has been made almost level.[44] On either side are long and
very beautiful benches of worked stone, every five or every ten paces.
Along by these benches are built in the wall the mouths of artificial
fountains, so that all down the alley are jets of water. At the end is
a fair fountain discharging itself into a great basin through a marble
statue, carved in the similitude of a woman starching linen. She is
represented wringing a tablecloth, fashioned in marble, and it is in
dripping from this cloth that the water finds its way out. Below is
another vessel to contain the hot water for making the starch.
In a chamber of the mansion is a marble table with places for six, each
of which is fitted with a cover to be raised by a ring. Beneath each of
these covers is a basin with a supply of fresh water, wherewith each
guest might cool his glass, and in the middle of the table a large
space for the bottle. We saw also great holes in the ground where a
large quantity of snow was kept all through the year. It is set upon
litter of broom and then covered with straw in high pyramidal form
like a small barn. There are a thousand reservoirs; and the duke was
at this time busied in making a colossus, the eye-socket of which is
three cubits in width and all the rest in proportion.[45] The thousand
reservoirs and pools are supplied from two springs through a vast
number of earthen pipes. In a large and beautiful bird-cage we saw some
little birds resembling goldfinches, with two long tail feathers like
large capons; and there is also a curious hothouse. We tarried some two
or three hours in this place, and then, having resumed our journey,
we went for seventeen miles along the crest of divers small hills and
arrived at Florence.
This is a smaller town than Ferrara, placed in a plain and surrounded
by a vast number of well-cultivated hills. The Arno, which is crossed
by divers bridges, runs through it and the walls of the town have no
ditches. This day M. de Montaigne passed two stones and a large amount
of gravel without perceiving anything more than a slight pain in the
lower part of the stomach. On the same day we visited the stables[46]
of the Grand Duke, which are large and arched in the roofs, but no
valuable horses were therein. The Grand Duke is not at present in
residence. We saw there a strange kind of sheep, a camel, some lions
and bears, and an animal as big as a large mastiff, the shape of a
cat, and spotted black and white, which they called a tiger. We went
to the church of Saint Lawrence where those banners of ours which
Marshal Strozzi[47] lost in his Tuscan defeat are still hanging. In
this same church are several specimens of painting on the flat, and
some beautiful statues of excellent workmanship, the work of Michael
Angelo.[48] We next saw the Dome, a very large church, and the bell
tower, covered with black and white marble and one of the fairest and
richest works in the world. M. de Montaigne affirmed that he never saw
a nation so lacking in fair women as the Italian,[49] and the lodgment
he found far less well arranged than in France or Germany; the food,
indeed, was not half so abundant or well served as in Germany. In
neither country is the meat larded, but in Germany it is far better
seasoned, and there is greater variety in sauces and soups. The rooms
themselves in Italy are vastly inferior, no saloons, the windows large,
and all uncovered save by a huge wooden shutter, which would exclude
all daylight if it should be necessary to keep off the sun or the wind,
an inconvenience which M. de Montaigne found still more intolerable
than the lack of curtains in Germany. The chambers are wretched boxes,
meanly curtained, and never more than one set in a room. Under the
hangings is a bed on castors, and any one who is averse to lying hard
will find himself in evil case. There is as great, or greater, want
of linen; and the wines are for the most part inferior, and at this
season undrinkable by all who dislike a mawkish sweetness. The price of
everything is indeed somewhat lower; Florence, however, is reputed to
be one of the dearest towns in Italy. Before my master arrived I made
a bargain at the hostelry of the “Angel”[50] for seven reals a day for
man and horse, and four reals for the servants.
On this same day we inspected one of the duke’s palaces, where certain
men were engaged in counterfeiting eastern jewels, and working in
crystal; for this prince is somewhat given to alchemy and the mechanic
arts, and is above all a great architect. On the morrow M. de Montaigne
went first to the top of the Dome, where he saw the ball of gilded
bronze, which from below seems about the bigness of a bullet, but
which, when one is thereby, proves capable of holding forty men. He
inspected the marble, variegated and carved throughout, with which this
church is encrusted, and found that even the black sort was already
showing signs of decay in many places through the action of the frost
and snow, wherefore he began to doubt whether it was really genuine.
He was minded likewise to visit the palaces of the Strozzi and the
Gondi,[51] which were still occupied by certain members of the said
families, as well as the duke’s palace where Cosimo, the father of
the reigning duke, had caused to be painted the capture of Siena and
scenes in the battle we lost.[52] In divers places in the city, and
notably in the palace aforesaid and on the ancient walls, the _fleur de
lys_ holds the first place of honour. M. d’Estissac and M. de Montaigne
went to dine with the Grand Duke. His wife[53] was seated in the place
of honour, and the duke below her, then the sister-in-law of the
duchess, and then her brother the husband of the aforesaid. According
to the Italian taste the duchess is handsome, with an agreeable and
inspiring face, full bust, and a bosom displaying itself as it may. M.
de Montaigne fully recognised in her the charm by which she has been
able to cajole this prince and to insure his devotion for a long time.
The duke is a big dark man of about my own height,[54] large-limbed,
with a face beaming with courtesy, and always wont to go uncovered
through the crowd of servants, which thing is very seemly. His
appearance is that of a healthy man of forty. On the other side of the
table sat the cardinal[55] and another young man of eighteen, brothers
of the duke. The attendants brought to the duke and the duchess a basin
in which were placed a glass full of wine, uncovered, and a glass
bottle full of water. Having taken the glass of wine, they poured into
the basin as much thereof as they willed, and refilled the glass with
water. Then they replaced the glass in the basin which the attendant
held before them. The duke put into his wine due quantity of water,
the duchess scarcely any. The bad habit of the Germans in using glasses
of an inordinate size is here reversed, seeing that in Italy the wine
glasses are exceedingly small.
I cannot tell why this city should be termed “beautiful,” as it were
by privilege. Beautiful it is, but no more so than Bologna, and little
more than Ferrara, while it falls far short of Venice. You may indeed
discern from the top of the bell tower innumerable houses, which cover
the hills all around for the distance of two or three leagues; and in
the plain, some two leagues in extent, on which the city stands, they
seem to touch, so closely are they built one to another. The city is
paved with flat stones without pattern or regularity. After the dinner
the four gentlemen and a guide took the post to go to visit a place
belonging to the duke which is called _Castello_.[56] There is nothing
of merit in the house, but around it are divers gardens, the entire
place being set on the slope of a hill, so that the main walks are on
the slope, and the cross alleys straight and level; also many arbours,
thickly covered with interwoven twigs of sweet-smelling shrubs, such as
cedar, cypress, orange, citron, and olive, the branches being enlaced
so closely that the sun at his fiercest could not pierce thereinside.
The undergrowth of these cypresses and other trees is so close that
only three or four persons can pass together through it. Amongst the
ponds there is a large one, in the midst of which stands a rock,
imitated from nature, which, by the application of the same material
used by the duke in covering his grottoes at Pratellino, looks as if it
were glazed over; and above it is a large casting of copper worked into
the likeness of a hoary old man seated on his breech with crossed arms.
From his beard, his forehead, and his skin, there is a perpetual drip
of water representing tears and sweat, and indeed this drip is the sole
supply of the basin.