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.