macaroni, paper, silks and velvets, soap, oil, jewellery, metal-work,
pottery, ornamental flowers, and other objects are ever increasing; and
_ovrar del Genoes_—Genoese {237} industry—is a marvel now, as it was
in the Middle Ages. San Pier d’Arena (Sampierdarena), to the west, has
become a veritable manufacturing town. Cornigliano, Rivarolo, Sestri
di Ponente with its large ship-yards, Pegli, and Voltri are populous
towns, having spinning-mills and foundries. Savona, whose port was
{238} filled up by the jealous Genoese, occupies the bottom of a vast
bay. It has glass-works and potteries, and is connected by a railway
with Turin. Elsewhere on the Riviera di Ponente the towns are crowded
closely together. Such is the case with the twin cities of Oneglia
and Porto Maurizio, the one built on the beach, the other on a steep
hill close by, and known as the “Fountains of Oil,” because of their
extensive plantations of olives. At San Remo, however, olives are more
plentiful still.[80]
On the Riviera di Levante town joins town like pearls in a necklace.
Albaro, with its charming mansion, Quarto, whence departed the
expedition which took Sicily from the Bourbons, and Nervi, a health
resort for persons suffering from pulmonary diseases, constitute a
long-stretching suburb of Genoa, extending in the direction of Recco
and Camogli, two towns abounding in shipping. The rocky promontory of
Porto Fino, thus named after the dolphins which formerly frequented
it, imposes an insurmountable obstacle to the further extension of
Genoa in this direction. Having traversed the tunnel leading through
this promontory, we reach another group of towns, viz. Rapallo, the
industrious; Chiavari, a great place of trade; Lavagna, with its famous
quarries of grey slates; and Sestri di Levante, a town of fishermen.
The coast beyond Sestri is but sparsely inhabited, for there bold
cliffs approach the sea; but having doubled the superb cape of Porto
Venere, we enter the fine Gulf of Spezia,[81] with its numerous forts,
ship-yards, arsenals, and other buildings. The Italian Government has
been busy ever since 1861 in converting this gulf into a first-rate
naval arsenal, but no sooner has a portion of the work been completed
than the progress made in the arts of destruction compels the engineers
to remodel it—a very costly task. Whatever future may be in store for
Spezia as a military port, it has none as a commercial one, for though
it affords excellent shelter to vessels, no railway connects it with
the fertile countries beyond the Apennines, and its exports are limited
to the produce of the valleys in its immediate vicinity. Spezia is
indebted for its high rank amongst the cities of Italy to its beautiful
gulf, the rival of the Bay of Naples and the roadstead of Palermo. From
the summit of the marble hill above the decayed town of Porto Venere we
look down upon a marvellous succession of bays and promontories, and
far in the distance the mountains of Corsica rise indistinctly above
the blue waters. Looking to the east, we behold the picturesque towns
on the opposite side of the gulf embedded in groves of olive-trees and
cypresses, the Apuanic Alps and the Apennines bounding the horizon.
Right opposite is the charming town of Lerici, and to the south of it
the shore upon which Byron reduced to ashes the body of his friend
Shelley: no spot more appropriate for this mournful holocaust. {239}
IV.—TUSCANY.
Tuscany, like Liguria, lies on the southern slope of the Apennines, but
is of far greater width, for that back-bone of Italy retreats there
from the Gulf of Genoa, and stretches right across the broadest part of
the peninsula to the Adriatic. Besides this there are several detached
plateaux and mountain ranges to the south of the valley of the Arno.[82]
The Apennines of Tuscany are of very unequal height, and they are
traversed by numerous low passes, which could easily be converted
into carriage roads. Speaking generally, they consist of a series of
elongated and parallel mountain masses, separated from each other by
valleys, through which flow the head-streams of the Serchio and the
Arno. The first important mountain mass of the main chain near the
frontiers of Liguria, which is commanded by the Orsajo and Succiso,
is thus separated by the valley of the Magra from the parallel range
of Lumigiana. The chain of Garfognana, to the north of the plains of
Lucca, has for its pendant the Alps of Apuana. Monte Cimone, farther
east, and the other summits of the _Alpe Apennina_ to the north of
Pistoja and Prato, are attended by the parallel ridges of the Monti
Catini and Monte Albano, on whose slope is the famous grotto of
Monsummano, with a thermal spring. A fourth mountain mass, that which
the direct road from Florence to Bologna crosses in the Pass of Futa,
has likewise its lateral chains, viz. the Monte Mugello, to the south
of the Sieve; the Prato Magno, encircled by the Upper Arno; and the
Alps of Catenaja, between the Arno and the Tiber.[83]
The Apennines of Tuscany in many places attain a height of 5,000 feet,
and are quite Alpine in their aspect, the upper slopes remaining
covered with snow for more than half the year. They owe much of their
grandeur to the precipitous slopes and fantastic profiles of the
calcareous rocks which enter so largely into their composition. The
forests of chestnuts, firs, and beeches which formerly clothed the
whole of the range have not yet been entirely destroyed. The beautiful
woods which cover the slopes of Prato Magno have impressed the mind of
many a poet; and, since Milton sang the delights of Vallombrosa, the
“shaded vale” has become a proverbial name for everything sweet and
touching in the poetry of nature. Farther to the west the monastery of
the Campo di Maldulo (Camaldoli) occupies one of the most beauteous
spots in all Italy, the woods and meadows of which have been celebrated
by Ariosto. From the summit above the convent both the “Tuscan and the
Slavonian Sea” can be seen, as that poet tells us.
The barren escarpments and forests of the Apennines form a charming
contrast to the valleys and rounded hills of Lower Tuscany, where
nearly every height is {240} surmounted by the ruins of a mediæval
castle; graceful villas are scattered over the verdant slopes,
farmhouses stand in the midst of vineyards and pointed cypresses, and
every cultivable spot is made to yield a rich harvest. Historical
associations, the taste of its inhabitants, the fertility of the soil,
an abundance of running water, and the sweetness of the climate all
combine in making Central Tuscany one of the most privileged regions of
Italy. Protected by the rampart of the Apennines against cold northerly
winds, this region faces the Tyrrhenian Sea, whence blow warm and humid
winds of tropical origin. The rains they bring are not excessive,
thanks to the screen formed by the mountains of Corsica and Sardinia,
and the happy disposition of the detached hills near the coast. The
climate of Tuscany is essentially temperate, and to its equability, no
less than to the natural beauty of their abode, the Tuscans owe, no
doubt, much of their gaiety, their good-nature, fine taste, poetical
feeling, and facile imagination.
[Illustration: Fig. 82.—THE GOLFOLINO OF THE ARNO, NEAR SIGNA.]
The valley of the Arno completely separates the hills of Southern
Tuscany, usually known as the “Sub-Apennines,” from the principal
chain of the mountains. This valley, with its defiles and ancient
lake basins, may be likened to a moat {241} bounding the wall of the
Apennines. The vale of Chiana, originally an arm of the sea, and then
a lake, forms the uppermost portion of the zone which separates the
Apennines from the hills of Southern Tuscany. Then follows the Campagna
of Florence, an ancient lake basin, which it would be easy to flood
again by building a dam across the defile of the Golfolina, through
which the river makes its escape, and which was rent asunder by the
“Egyptian Hercules.” Castruccio, the famous commander of the Luccans,
actually proposed to flood the plains of Florence in the fourteenth
century by constructing a dam across this defile; but happily his
engineers pronounced the scheme to be impracticable, for they supposed
the difference of level to amount to 288 feet, whilst in reality it is
only fifty.
[Illustration: Fig. 83.—DEFILES OF THE ARNO.
From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 285,000.]
The Sub-Apennine hills to the south of the Arno are of rounded
contours, of a gloomy grey colour, and devoid of all verdure. Whilst
the Apennines consist exclusively of Jurassic and cretaceous rocks,
the Sub-Apennines are of tertiary formation, their sandstones, clays,
marls, and pudding-stones being pierced here and there by serpentine.
Well-defined ranges can hardly be said to exist. Southern Tuscany,
indeed, may be described as a table-land intersected by rivers in
all directions, surmounted by irregular groups of hills, and pierced
by “sinks,” which swallow up some of the rivers. The cavities of
the Ingolla form one of these sinks, in which several rivulets lose
themselves, to reappear lower down as the source of the Elsa Viva,
one of the principal tributaries of the Arno. The most elevated
hills of this Sub-Apennine region form the water-parting between the
Arno, the Cecina, and the Ombrone, and in the Poggio di Montieri, a
mountain abounding in copper, they attain an elevation of 3,323 feet.
The Labbro (3,815 feet), Cetona (3,650 feet), and Monte Amiata (5,450
feet), to the south of the Ombrone valley, rise to a greater height,
but geologically they belong already to Central Italy. The Cetona is
a Jurassic outlier surrounded by recent formations. Monte Amiata, a
trachytic cone, is the most elevated volcano of continental Italy. It
no longer vomits lava, but numerous hot springs and solfataras prove
that the volcanic forces are not yet quite extinct. The Radicofani
(2,950 feet) is likewise an extinct volcano, whose lava resembles
petrified froth, and can be cut with a hatchet.
Subterranean agencies must indeed be very active in Tuscany, for
metalliferous {242} veins ramify in all directions, and the number
of mineral springs of every description is larger than in any other
part of Italy. Amongst these springs there are several of world-wide
reputation, as, for instance, those of Monte Catini, of San Giuliano,
and of the Bagni di Lucca. The brine springs of Tuscany are very
productive; but the most curious, and at the same time most useful,
springs of all are the famous _lagoni_, in a side valley of the Cecina,
and at the northern foot of the Poggio di Montieri. From a distance
dense clouds of white vapour are seen rolling over the plain, and the
bubbling noise made by gases escaping through the ponds, or _lagoni_,
is heard. These ponds contain various salts, silica, and boracic acid,
which is of great value in the manufacture of china and glass, and
yields a considerable revenue to Tuscany. Nowhere else in Europe,
except, perhaps, in the crater of the Eolian Vulcano, is boracic acid
met with in sufficient quantities to repay the labour of extracting it.
In Tuscany, however, there are several other localities where it might
be won with advantage, as, for instance, near Massa Maritima, to the
south of the Montieri.
The subterranean fermentation of which Tuscany is the scene is no
doubt due in a large measure to the changes which have taken place in
the relative proportions of land and sea. Several isolated hills rise
near the coast like islands from the sea, and these have evidently
been joined to the mainland by the alluvial deposits brought down by
the rivers. The Monti Serra (3,000 feet), to the east of Pisa, between
the Arno and the Serchio, are almost insulated even now, for they are
surrounded by swamps, and the level of the Lake of Bientina, at their
eastern foot, is scarcely thirty feet above that of the Mediterranean.
The heights along the coast to the south of Leghorn are not quite so
isolated, but the lowland which connects them with the table-land of
the interior is only of small elevation. The promontory, however,
whose extremities are occupied by the towns of Populonia and Piombino
(653 feet), is joined to the mainland only by a low plain of sand.
The most perfect type of these ancient islands is presented to us in
the superb Monte Argentaro, at the southern extremity of the Tuscan
littoral, which rises boldly from the sea to a height of 2,085 feet,
and is attached to the mainland by two narrow strips of land covered
with pine-trees, enclosing a lake of regular shape: in the midst of it,
on a fragment of the ancient beach, is built the town of Orbetello.
This lake, which looks almost as if it were the work of a generation
of giants, has been converted into an eel-pond, and millions of fish
are caught in it every year. Towards the west of this mountain, in the
direction of Corsica, lie the islands of Giglio and Monte Cristo (2,062
feet) and the rock of Formica. The island of Elba, farther north, forms
a small world of its own.
The rivers of Tuscany have wrought great changes in the plains through
which they flow, and along the sea-coast. Their labour has been
facilitated by the nature of the soil which they traverse. The least
rain converts the barren hill-slopes into a semi-fluid paste, which is
carried by the rivers down to the sea. The mouth of the Arno has thus
been pushed forward to the extent of seven miles in the course of a
few centuries. In former times the Serchio and the Arno united before
they flowed into the sea, but the Pisans diverted the former river to
the {243} north, in order to rid themselves of its unwelcome deposits.
Pisa, in the time of Strabo, stood at a distance of only twenty
Olympian stadia from the Tyrrhenian Sea, and when the _cascina_ of San
Rossore was built, towards the close of the eleventh century, its walls
were close to the beach, which is now at a distance of three miles.
Extensive plains intersected by dunes, or _tomboli_, and partly covered
with forests of pines, have been added to the land in the course of
centuries. These sandy wastes have become the home of large herds of
horses and half-wild cattle, and the camel has been acclimatised there,
it is said, since the Crusades. These changes in the coast-line may
not, however, be due exclusively to the agency of the rivers, for there
exists evidence of an upheaval of the land. The building stone known at
Leghorn as _panchina_ is clearly of marine origin, and the shells which
enter into its composition are still met with in the Tyrrhenian Sea.
[Illustration: Fig. 84.—MONTE ARGENTARO.
From the French Chart. Scale 1 : 168,000.]
[Illustration: Fig. 85.—VAL DI CHIANA.
From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 218,000.]
Amongst the changes effected by human agency in the basin of the Arno
those referring to the Val di Chiana are, perhaps, the most important.
This depression connects the basins of the Arno and Tiber, and may
possibly have served as an outlet to the former river before it had
opened itself a way through the {244} gorge below Florence. Formerly
the water-parting between the two rivers was close to the Arno. A small
portion of its drainage was carried to the Tuscan river, but by far the
greater portion of the vale was occupied by stagnant pools, extending
to the south as far as the latitude of Montepulciano, a distance of
twenty miles. The whole of this region was a breeding-place of fever.
Dante and other Italian writers speak of it as an accursed place. The
inhabitants made vain attempts at drainage. The illustrious Galileo,
when consulted on the subject, {245} declared that nothing could be
done to mend this evil; and though Torricelli conceived that it would
be possible to drain the valley, he took no steps to put his theories
into practice.
[Illustration: Fig. 86.—THE LAKE OF BIENTINA.
From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 328,000.]
About the middle of the eighteenth century the work of drainage was at
length seriously taken in hand, directed by Fossombroni, the celebrated
engineer. “Warps,” or _colmate_, were thrown up at the outlet of each
lateral ravine between which the débris carried down from the flanks
of the mountains was deposited. The swamps gradually filled up, and
the soil became firm. By constructing a dam (_argine_) across the vale
at the point chosen for the new water-parting, an outfall was created,
and a line of stagnant swamps was thus converted into a pure rivulet.
The valley, at one time a hotbed of fever, has now become one of the
most salubrious districts of Italy. The newly won lands were at once
taken possession of by agriculturists, and 500 square miles were thus
added to the productive area of Tuscany. Villages, formerly inhabited
by fever-stricken wretches, have become wealthy towns, and the success
of this _bonification_, or reclamation, has been thorough. The torrents
are under control now, and have already deposited 17,650 million
cubic feet of alluvium over an area of 50,000 acres, as if they were
intelligent workmen. The same system of drainage has been successfully
applied in other parts of Italy, and particularly near Grosseto, on the
right bank of the Ombrone.
Amongst the great drainage works which will evermore contribute to
the glory of Tuscan engineers, the innumerable canals draining the
plains of Fucecchio, {246} Pontedera, Pisa, Lucca, Leghorn, and
Viareggio, each of which was formerly occupied by its lake, deserve
to be noticed. One of the most difficult of these lakes is that of
Bientina, or Sesto, to the east of the Pisan hills, which is supposed
to have been formed by an overflow of the Serchio. In former times this
lake had two effluents, one running north to the Serchio, the other
south to the Arno. The outfall left nothing to be desired in ordinary
times, but after heavy rains the two effluents were converted into
inflowing rivers, and if the sluices had not been closed, the Arno and
the Serchio would have rejoined each other in this inland sea. The
Bientina, during such freshets, covered six times its ordinary area,
and in order to save the fertile fields of Tuscany it became absolutely
necessary to create a third effluent. The engineers conceived the happy
idea of conveying this new effluent through a tunnel, passing beneath
the Arno, three feet in width, into an ancient bed of that river, now
supplanted by the Colombrone.
In most of these enterprises it was necessary to struggle on in spite
of the miasmatic atmosphere, which hung more particularly over the
littoral zone, where the fresh inland water mingles with the salt
water of the Mediterranean. The blending of the two waters destroyed
the fresh-water plants and animals, and the deleterious gases arising
from their decomposition poisoned the atmosphere. About the middle
of last century an engineer, Zendrini, proposed to construct sluices
separating the fresh from the salt water. This was done, and the fevers
at once disappeared. In 1768, the sluices having been allowed to fall
out of repair, the miasmatic scourge immediately reappeared, and it
was not until they had been repaired that the sanitary condition of
the villages along the coast was improved. Twice since neglect to keep
the sluices in a proper condition has been punished with the same
results; but from 1821 they have been maintained in thorough order,
and the sanitary condition of the country has ever since been most
satisfactory. Viareggio, in the centre of this malarial district,
was up to 1740 hardly more than a hamlet, avoided on account of its
insalubrity, but is now a seaside town, the favourite resort of numbers
of visitors.
Much has been done, no doubt, in draining the land, but there is still
room for many improvements. The Maremma, a track between Piombino and
Orbetello, remains one of the most insalubrious regions of Europe, in
spite of what has been done by sanitary engineers. The inhabitants
never reach a high age, and though they descend to the plain only when
it is absolutely required for cultivating their fields, they frequently
carry away with them the germs of disease. In the two summers of 1840
and 1841 no less than 36,000 persons suffered from fever amongst a
total population of 80,000 souls, most of whom reside in villages built
on hills, and only rarely visit the pestilential plain. In order to
escape the pernicious influence of the poisonous air, it is necessary
to reside constantly at an elevation of 325 feet above the sea, and
even that does not always suffice, for the episcopal city of Sovana
is notoriously unhealthy, though built at that height. Fevers occur
frequently at a distance from the swamps, and Salvagnoli Marchetti is
of opinion that they are due to the nature of the soil. The malaria is
said to creep up clayey hills permeated by empyreumatic substances;
it likewise {247} poisons the air of districts abounding in saline
springs, and still more that near deposits of alum. Southerly winds are
likewise most pernicious, and fevers rise highest in the valleys which
are exposed to them. Places, on the other hand, which are fully open to
the sea breeze are quite free from malaria, even if swamps are near, as
at Orbetello and Piombino.
[Illustration: Fig. 87.—THE MALARIAL REGIONS.
From the Austrian Staff Map. Scale 1 : 2,700,00.]
It is generally admitted that the coasts of Etruria did not suffer
from malaria whilst the ancient Tyrrhenian cities were prosperous. The
excavations made recently in connection with the railways have revealed
a complete system of subterranean canals, which formerly drained the
whole of the Maremmas. Populonia and other large cities, of which only
a few ruins are found now, could certainly not have existed if the
climate had been as unhealthy as at present. The ancient Etruscans were
famous as hydraulic engineers. They embanked torrents, drained swamps,
and rendered the country cultivable, but their engineering works were
allowed to decay soon after they had been subjected, and the country
returned to its primitive savageness. On the other hand, there are many
towns {248} which were considered healthy during the Middle Ages, but
are now desolated by fever. Massa Maritima, to the south-west of the
Moutieri mountain, was rich and populous as long as it maintained its
republican liberties; but no sooner had it been enslaved by Pisans and
Sienese than its drainage works were allowed to fall into decay, and
in the end it found itself reduced to the “shadow of a town.” Sanitary
works carried out recently have brought back some of its ancient
prosperity.
Amongst the causes which have contributed most materially towards a
deterioration of the climate may be mentioned the destruction of the
mountain forests and the rapid increase of alluvial lands resulting
from it. The monasteries of Tuscany, which until quite recently were
the owners of the fish-ponds in the Maremmas, energetically protested
against the construction of embankments or other drainage works,
which they conceived would interfere with their cherished Lenten
food. Several of the inland towns rejoiced in the possession of some
unhealthy swampy tract, to which obnoxious persons might be banished
with a certainty of their dying. Even the Kings of Spain established a
penal establishment at one of the most deadly spots on this coast, and
banishment to Talamone, at one time a flourishing port of the Republic
of Siena, was tantamount to a sentence of death.
Many attempts were made to reclaim these lands. Macchiavelli and other
statesmen of Tuscany thought that the former salubrity of the climate
could be restored by merely repeopling the country. Colonists were
sent for from other parts of Italy, and even from Greece and Germany,
but they soon succumbed to the climate. Since that time considerable
progress has been made in rendering these marshy districts more
salubrious. Trees have been planted, and, in combination with proper
drainage, they have rendered many districts habitable which were not
so formerly. Populonia is a case in point. Follonica, where there
are furnaces in which the iron ores of Elba are smelted, is likewise
looking up, though its inhabitants still fly the place on the approach
of the fever season.
* * * * *