THE JOURNAL OF
MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS
IN ITALY
[Illustration: _Medal of Pope Gregory XIII._]
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. III
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1903
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
IX. LORETO TO THE BATHS OF
LUCCA 1
X. THE BATHS OF LUCCA 37
XI. FLORENCE 95
XII. PISA 111
XIII. RETURN TO LUCCA 132
XIV. SECOND VISIT TO ROME 151
XV. JOURNEY HOME 172
INDEX 206
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
VOL. III
POPE GREGORY XIII (_Photogravure_) _Frontispiece_
ANCONA _To face page_ 1
URBINO ” 12
FLORENCE ” 94
THE AQUEDUCT OF NERO ” 166
THE BATHS OF DIOCLETIAN ” 168
ROME ” 170
PONTE MOLLE ” 172
[Illustration: ANCONA
_From Civitates Orbis Terrarum_
_To face p. 1_, vol. iii.
]
THE JOURNAL OF MONTAIGNE’S TRAVELS IN ITALY
IX
LORETO TO THE BATHS OF LUCCA
On the Wednesday after dinner I travelled through a fertile open
country of a varied character, and after a journey of fifteen miles
I arrived at Ancona in time for supper. Ancona is the capital of the
Marches, which district was called by the Latins _Picænum_. The city is
populous, swarming especially with Greeks, Turks, and Sclavonians, and
a busy place of traffic. It is well built, flanked on either side by
lofty hills, which project into the sea, one of these being occupied by
a strong fort, by which we entered, and the other by a church. Between
these heights and the slopes thereof the town is built, the main part
being placed in the bottom of the valley and along by the sea, where
there is a very fine port, and near thereto a magnificent arch built in
honour of the Emperor Trajan, his wife, and his sister. The sea passage
over into Sclavonia is often made in eight, ten, or twelve hours, and
I believe that for six crowns, or a little more, I might have hired a
bark to take me to Venice. I paid thirty-three pistoles for the hire
of eight horses as far as Lucca, eight days’ journey, the _vetturino_
agreeing to feed the horses and to give me the use of the same for
four or five days in addition, if necessary, provided I should pay the
outlay on the horses and servants.
I saw many setting dogs in this country, and could have bought one for
six crowns. I never ate so many quails before, albeit they were very
lean. I put off my departure on the 27th until after dinner, in order
to enjoy the beautiful prospect of the town and its situation. At S.
Ciriaco,[1] the church placed on one of the hills before-named, there
are more famous relics than in any other church in the world, but these
were not exhibited. We had it from the people here that the quails
fly over hither in great numbers from Sclavonia, and that nets are
set for them every night on the shore, the hunters luring them on by
imitating their cry and calling them down from their high flight in the
air. It is said, moreover, that in September they return to Sclavonia.
During the night I heard cannon shots in the Abruzzi, which is in the
kingdom of Naples, and from parts yet more remote. All along the coast
towers are built a league distant one from the other, and whenever any
sentinel espies a pirate ship he gives warning by firing a gun to the
tower next to him. So rapidly is intelligence sped by this method that
it has been found that word may be passed from the extreme point of
Italy to Venice in an hour.
The name Ancona is derived from the Greek word[2] describing the corner
which the sea makes in this spot. The two horns of the coast project
and leave between them a deep depression in which the town stands,
protected in the front by these two headlands, and in the rear by a
high ridge where formerly stood a fort. The Greeks still have their
church, over the door of which is an ancient stone inscribed with
certain characters which I take to be Sclavonic.[3] The women here are
for the most part good-looking, and I saw many decent-looking men and
good artisans. After dinner we followed the road by the sea, which
is calmer and less turbulent than our western ocean. The land is
cultivated almost to the water’s edge. After travelling twenty miles we
arrived at Sinigaglia in time for bed.
This is a pretty little town, situated in a fine level country and hard
by the sea, possessed of a good harbour, and washed on one side by a
river which comes down from the mountains. The port is excellently
fitted, the quays on either side being covered with wooden framework,
where the ships lie in safety, and the entrance furnished with chains.
I saw no remains of antiquity. We lodged outside the town in an
excellent inn, the only one in the place, which they say was called
of old _Senogallia_, after our forefathers who settled there in the
days when they were overthrown by Camillus; now it is under the rule
of the Duke of Urbino.[4] At this time I felt somewhat unwell, for on
the day I left Rome when M. d’ Ossat[5] was walking with me, I saluted
a gentleman we met, and I did this in so maladroit a fashion that
I injured the corner of my right eye with my right thumb, so much
so that it bled and remained much inflamed for a long time. When it
healed--_Erat tunc dolor ad unguem sinistrum_. I forgot to mention
that I saw at Ancona in the church of San Ciriaco a tombstone to the
memory of a certain _Antonia Rocamoro, patre: matre, Valletta: Galla,
Aquitana: Paciocco Urbinati, Lusitano nupta_, who was buried ten or
twelve years ago. We quitted Sinigaglia early in the morning, and
followed a very agreeable road running by the sea coast. Near dinner
time we crossed the Metro, _Metaurus_, by a large wooden bridge, and
dined at Fano, fifteen miles on our road.
This is a small town in a fine and fertile plain, and close to the
sea. It is badly built, with narrow, confined streets; but we found
excellent provision of bread and wine and fish, though the rooms were
poor.[6] Fano has an advantage over the other towns of this coast,
such as Sinigaglia, Pesaro, and others, in that it is abundantly
supplied with fresh water, which is laid on to many public and private
fountains, while the people of these other towns must needs fetch their
water from the hills. We saw there a fine ancient arch[7] bearing an
inscription in the name of Augustus, _qui muros dederat_. The town was
known as Fanum Fortunæ. Here, as in other places in Italy, they use a
wheel for boulting flour, wherefore their bakers get through more work
in one hour than ours in four. At almost every inn are to be found
rhymesters, who will reel off on the spur of the moment a string of
doggerel appropriate to their hearers. There is a musical instrument in
every shop, even at the stocking-darner’s at the corner of the street.
Fano is famous beyond all the other towns of Italy for its fair women,
but all those we saw were very ugly indeed. I heard from a goodman of
the town, of whom I made inquiry on this matter, that the days for the
blooming of such beauty were past and gone. On this route the charge
for dinner is about ten soldi, each person paying some twenty soldi
per diem for everything, and thirty soldi per diem for the hire and
maintenance of each horse. This town belongs to the Church.
We failed to see certain towns which lay a little farther along the
sea-coast road: Pesaro, a fine city, and well worth a visit; Rimini,
and the ancient city of Ravenna--Pesaro being especially interesting,
according to report, on account of a fine house which the Duke of
Urbino[8] has recently caused to be erected on a remarkable site. This
same road goes on to Venice. We quitted the sea-coast, and, turning
to the left, we traversed a wide plain watered by the _Metaurus_. On
either hand delightful hillsides came in sight, the aspect of this
country being not unlike that of the plain of Blaignac about Castillon.
On the other side of this river was fought the battle[9] between the
Romans under Salinator and Claudius Nero and Hasdrubal, who was there
slain.
Fossombrone,[10] fifteen miles distant from Fano, and belonging to the
Duke of Urbino, stands at the entrance to the mountains, which close
up towards each other at the end of the flat country. The town stands
close to the mountain slopes, and in its lower parts possesses one or
two fine straight streets, uniform and well built. Nevertheless, report
says, the people are much poorer than those of Fano. In the public
place is a large marble pedestal with a long inscription of the age of
Trajan, written in honour of a certain inhabitant of the place;[11]
and set against the wall is another without any sign to proclaim its
date. This place was formerly called _Forum Sempronii_, and the people
now maintain that the original town stood farther towards the plain,
and that ruins of the same are still to be found on a vastly better
site. Here is a stone bridge which carries the _Via Flaminia_ over the
_Metaurus_. Seeing that I arrived in good time--for the miles are short
ones, and we are seldom in the saddle more than seven or eight hours--I
had plenty of time to talk with the good folk of the place, and to
glean from them information concerning their town and its surroundings.
We visited a garden belonging to the cardinal of Urbino,[12] in which
were many vines grafted upon other stocks, and I had some talk with one
Vincentius Castellani, a worthy man of letters and a citizen of the
place.
On the following morning I departed, and at the third milestone
I turned to the left; and, having crossed the bridge over the
Cardiana,[13] a stream which joins the Metaurus, I went three miles
through the mountains, over a narrow and difficult road, at the end of
which we came upon a passage, fifty good paces in length, which had
been fashioned through a high rock.[14] On account of the magnitude
of the work, Augustus, who had first set his hand thereto, caused an
inscription to be put up in his name. This, however, has perished by
time; but another inscription in honour of Vespasian is still to be
seen at the other end of the pass. Everywhere round about are remains
of vast constructions of great height for the conveyance of water, and
below the road rocks of enormous thickness have been cut through or
levelled. All along this road, the Via Flaminia, which leads to Rome,
are traces of the great stones used for paving, but most of these are
buried; and the road, which was originally forty feet wide, is now
not more than four. I went out of my way to visit this spot, and then
retraced my steps to get once more on my road, which took me at the
foot of a range of fertile, gently sloping hills. Towards the end of
our journey the road ran now up and now down hill, and at the end of
sixteen miles we found ourselves at Urbino.
[Illustration:
URBINO
_Reproduced from Civitates Orbis Terrarum_
_To face p. 12_, vol. iii.
]
I could discover no remarkable merit in this place. It is set on the
top of a mountain of moderate height, but the town straggles all
over the acclivities of the site so that there is scarcely a level
foot, and it is up hill or down hill wherever you go. It was Saturday
and a market day. We saw the palace,[15] which is renowned for its
beauty, a huge mass, the foundations of which rest upon the very foot
of the hill. The view extends over a thousand other of the adjacent
mountains, but is not especially beautiful. To make up for the want
of amenity in the palace without and within--there is only one little
garden about twenty-five paces wide--they declare that it contains as
many chambers as there are days in the year. This may well be true,
for the number of rooms is very great, as at Tivoli and other Italian
palaces. Looking through one doorway you may often see twenty other
doors in succession on one side, and twenty or more on the other. Some
portions of the palace are ancient, but the greater part of it was
built in 1476 by Federigo Maria della Rovere, who has set forth therein
the style and dignity of his various offices and his exploits in
war.[16] The palace walls are covered in many places with inscriptions
of this sort, and one of them declares that this is the fairest
dwelling in the world. It is built of brick and vaulted throughout,
with none of the wooden ceilings so common in Italy.
The present duke is grand-nephew of the builder of the palace:[17]
the princes of this family having all been good rulers, and beloved
by their subjects. The love of letters has come down from father to
son, and the library of the palace is a fine one, but the key of it
was not to be found. The duke is all in the Spanish interests, and the
arms of Spain appear everywhere in favoured positions: the order of
England[18] and the Golden Fleece are also displayed, but none of ours.
They showed to us a portrait of the first Duke of Urbino, a young man
who was slain by his subjects for his unjust dealing,[19] but he was
not of this family. The present duke has to wife the sister of the Duke
of Ferrara,[20] who is ten years his senior, but they are on bad terms
and live apart, for no other reason, according to rumour, than the
jealousy of the duchess. Thus, besides the disparity of age--she being
forty-five years of age--there is little hope of children, and if heirs
fail the duchy will revert to the Church, an event which would be very
distasteful to the people.
I saw there the life-size portrait of Picus Mirandula:[21] the face
pale, very handsome, and beardless, of a youth of seventeen or
eighteen, with a long nose, soft eyes, scant of flesh, and with blonde
hair, which came down over the shoulders. The costume he wore was
a strange one. In many places in Italy they are wont to build the
staircases very level, with shallow steps, so that a man on horseback
can easily reach the top. Here the stairs are thus built, and laid with
tiles set on edge. The place is by report very cold, and the duke as a
rule lives here only during the summer; this statement being confirmed
by the fact that in two of the ducal chambers are to be seen other
apartments contrived in a corner, and closed on all sides save by
one window, which lets in light from the chamber aforesaid. In these
apartments the state beds are arranged.
After dinner I again turned aside from my road and went about five
miles to visit a spot which has been known in all ages as the Tomb of
Hasdrubal. It stands on a high abrupt hill called Monte Deci,[22] where
are four or five mean cottages and a little church, and a building of
thick bricks or tiles, about twenty-five paces in circumference and
the same height in feet, and surrounded by seats fashioned of the
same bricks and set at intervals of three feet. I cannot say what name
masons give to these constructions, something like flying buttresses,
which they use as supports. We entered the place from above, there
being no door below, and found within a vaulted chamber and nought
else--no hewn stone, no inscriptions; but the people of the place
affirmed that it formerly contained a marble tablet bearing certain
marks, which tablet had been removed not long ago. How the tower got
the name it bears I cannot say, and I hardly believe it can be what it
claims to be, but it is certain that Hasdrubal was defeated and slain
close to the spot. The road became very hilly and deep with mud for an
hour after a shower of rain which fell. We crossed the Metaurus by a
ford, the stream being here a torrent and too shallow to carry a boat,
indeed we had crossed it once before since dining, and found a good
road to Castel Durante, fifteen miles from Urbino.
This small town, belonging to the Duke of Urbino, is built on level
ground along the Metaurus. The people were firing guns and making
merry over the birth of a son to the Princess of Bisignano, the duke’s
sister.[23] Our _vetturini_ here unsaddled the horses and unbridled
them as well, and then, without any discrimination, let them drink what
water they would. Both here and at Urbino the wine was adulterated.
On the Sunday morning we came to a plain which, as well as the slopes
adjacent, seemed fertile enough, and then passed through Sant’ Angelo,
a pretty little town belonging to the Duke of Urbino, and lying on the
banks of the Metaurus, the approaches thereto being very handsome.
Because it was the eve of May-day they served us some of the little
frogs that were wont to be eaten at Mid-Lent.[24] Continuing our course
along the plain we passed through another village, called Marcatello,
and having travelled ten miles along a road which, after quitting
Marcatello, began to go uphill, we arrived for dinner at Borgo a Pasci,
a small village with a wretched inn at a corner of the mountain. We
took only a sup. Then we followed at first a wild and stony track, and
had to mount for two miles to the top of the pass, after which came
a descent of four miles, the road being stony and wearisome, but not
frightful or dangerous, seeing that there were no precipices so abrupt
that the eye could not find some point whereon to rest. We had followed
the Metaurus to its first home, its source being in these mountains,
and had seen it lose itself in the sea at Sinigaglia. As we descended
from this height there came in sight a broad and lovely plain, through
which ran the Tiber, here some eight miles from its source, and other
mountains beyond; a view not unlike that which presents itself in the
Limaigne of Auvergne to those who may come down from the Puy de Domme
to Clermont. At the top of the pass we emerged from the dominions
of the Duke of Urbino into those of the Duke of Florence, those of
the Pope lying on the left hand. We arrived for supper at Borgo San
Sepolcro, thirteen miles from our last halt.
This little town belongs to the Duke of Florence, and contains nought
worth notice. We left it on the first of May, and a mile from the town
we passed by a stone bridge over the Tiber, which is here a clear and
beautiful stream, a proof that the dirty tawny hue which it bears at
Rome--Flavum Tiberini--is caused by the admixture of some other stream.
We went for four miles over this plain and came upon a little town on
the top of the first hill we ascended. Here, as elsewhere along the
road, divers young girls came to meet us, and took hold of our horses’
bridles, singing and begging a gift for the feast of the day. From this
hill we descended into a deep stony valley which we followed for some
time, riding beside the bed of a torrent, and then we had to mount
another barren, stony hill, from the top of which we caught sight of
a wide plain. In traversing this we crossed the Chiasso and the Arno
by stone bridges, the bridge over the last-named stream being very
fine and large; and, having ridden eighteen miles, we put up for the
night at Ponte Boriano, where there was but one small house in which we
were very badly lodged, as on the three previous nights, and indeed at
well-nigh every halting-place on this route.
It would be the height of folly to bring good horses into these parts,
seeing that no hay is to be got. After dinner we travelled over a
long level track which was full of horrible gaping cracks made by the
water in very strange fashion; a vile place to traverse in the winter,
I can well imagine, but they are now repairing the road. After this
we passed, about two miles to our left, the town of Arezzo, which
stands in this same plain on a site which seemed somewhat higher than
the surrounding country. We crossed the Ambra by a very high and
handsome stone bridge, and supped at Levanella after a journey of
ten miles. The inn stands a mile outside the village and has a great
reputation, being reckoned--and with reason--to be the best in Tuscany,
and indeed, judged by the Italian standard, it is one of the best
anywhere. So excellent is the cheer that the neighbouring gentry--so
we were told--often meet there, as at Le More’s[25] in Paris or at
Guillot’s[26] at Amiens. They served us on pewter plates, a luxury
very rare in these parts. The inn stands by itself, finely situated
on level ground, out of which rises a spring of water. We left in the
morning and travelled over the plain by a fine straight road, passing
through four little walled towns, Montevarchi, S. Giovanni, Figline,
and Ancisa,[27] and reached Pian della Fonte in time for dinner, after
riding twelve miles.
The inn here is indifferent: near by is a spring, a little above
Ancisa in the Val d’Arno, which is celebrated by Petrarch; indeed, it
is held by some that Ancisa was his birthplace. Certainly they claim
this honour for a house some mile distant, of which now only a few
paltry fragments remain: in any case they point out the place.[28]
Here they were planting melons amongst others which had been planted
some time before, in the expectation of gathering the same in August.
This morning I felt my head heavy and my sight troubled, these being
symptoms of those headaches with which I have been affected for the
last ten years. This valley was formerly a morass, and Livy relates how
Hannibal was forced to ride an elephant when he traversed it, and lost
one of his eyes on account of the severity of the season:[29] it is
assuredly a flat and low-lying country and greatly at the mercy of the
floods of the Arno. I refused to eat at dinner, but I repented of this,
for had I eaten I might have vomited, and I always find the speediest
remedy thereby. Otherwise I am troubled by my head for a day or two,
as was now the case. The road was crowded with country-folk taking
provisions to Florence, where we arrived after crossing one of the four
stone bridges over the Arno, having ridden twelve miles.
On the morrow, after we had heard mass, we set forth and turned a
little from our direct route to go visit Castello,[30] of which I
have spoken in another place; but it chanced that, when we arrived
there, the duke’s daughters, who were in residence, were just passing
through the garden to hear mass, wherefore we were requested to wait a
while, but this I was not disposed to do. On this road we met several
processions. First came the banner, then the women, most of whom are
very good-looking, and all wearing straw hats, which they make better
here than anywhere else;[31] these moreover were very well clad for
villagers, some wearing heeled shoes and some white slippers. After the
women the priest walked, and after him the men. The day before we had
met a procession of monks, almost every one of them wearing a straw hat.
Our road led us through a plain very fair and wide, and here, in
sooth, I was bound to admit that neither Orleans, nor Tours, nor even
Paris, can boast of environs so richly set with villages and houses as
Florence; which, with regard to fine houses and palaces, comes first
without a doubt. Continuing our way, we came, after riding ten miles,
to Prato in time for dinner. This small town, belonging to the Duke
of Florence, is situated on the river Bisenzio, which we crossed by
a stone bridge at the entry to the town. In no other country are the
bridges so numerous or so well maintained; moreover, along the highways
we frequently saw large stone pillars inscribed with notices as to
what State was responsible for the repair of the roads. At Prato, in
the palace, we saw the name and the arms of the Legate Du Prat,[32]
who was, as they told us, a native of this place. Over the door of
the palace is a large statue, crowned and holding an orb in the hand,
and at the feet thereof is written _Rex Robertus_.[33] The people here
affirm that the town once belonged to us, and, certes, the _fleurs de
lys_ are everywhere to be seen, and the arms of the town are fleurs
de lys _or_ on a field _gules_. The cathedral here is a fine one, and
adorned with a quantity of black and white marble.
On leaving Prato we again went off our road and journeyed some four
miles to visit Poggio,[34] a house belonging to the duke, situated on
the Ombrone, of which they make great boast. It is built on the plan
of Pratolino, and what is remarkable about it is that the builders
were able to find room for a hundred fair chambers in so small a
space. Amongst other things I saw there many sets of very beautiful
bed furniture, albeit of no great value, seeing that they were of that
light variegated stuff made entirely of fine wool, interwoven with a
fourfold thread of taffetas of the same shade. We saw there also the
laboratory of the duke, and his work-room fitted with a lathe and other
instruments, this prince being a great mechanician. Thence we went
fourteen miles by a direct road running through an exceedingly fertile
country, the road being fenced in by a hedge formed by the vines
attached to the trees, a very beautiful sight, and arrived at Pistoia
in time for supper.
This is a large town on the Ombrone, with broad streets, paved,
like those of Florence, Prato, Lucca, and other places, with large,
wide slabs of stone. I forgot to say that, from the apartments at
Poggio, Florence, Prato, and Pistoia may be seen when sitting at
table. While we were there the duke was at Pratolino. At Pistoia we
saw very few people about the streets; but the churches are fine, as
well as many of the houses. I inquired concerning the sale of the
straw hats, which they make at fifteen soldi apiece, and which, in
my opinion, would be well worth as many francs in France. In ancient
times Catiline was overthrown in a battle close to the town.[35] In
one of the rooms at Poggio is some tapestry representing hunting of
all sorts, and I remarked that one of these was an ostrich chase, the
birds being followed by men on horseback and pierced with javelins.
The Latins called Pistoia _Pistorium_,[36] and it now belongs to the
Duke of Florence. Legend records that the ancient feuds of the houses
of Cancellieri[37] and Panciatici reduced its population greatly, so
that now it does not contain more than eight thousand people, while
Lucca, which is no bigger as a city, numbers twenty-five thousand or
more. Messer Taddeo Rospigliosi, who had received from Rome a letter
written in my favour by Giovanni Franchini, invited me and all those
of my company to dine at his house on the morrow. His palace was
full of ornament, but the service at table was somewhat rough, and
the supply of meat and of attendants was scanty. Additional wine was
served after dinner as in Germany. We went to the principal church, and
remarked that the elevation of the Host was accompanied by the sound of
trumpets, while amongst the boys in the choir were several priests who
played upon sackbuts. This poor city pretends to make up for its lost
liberties by maintaining a vain semblance of its ancient state. There
are nine priors and a Gonfalonier, who are elected every two months,
and have the charge of public order. They are maintained by the duke,
as they were formerly by the Republic, and lodged in the palace, which
they scarcely ever quit, save when they go out all together, being
kept continually under restraint.[38] The Gonfalonier walks in front
of the Podestà, the ducal officer who possesses all the real power,
and returns no salutation made to him, simulating a dignity which is
altogether imaginary. I felt pity at the sight of men thus satisfied
with these apish tricks; moreover, the Grand Duke now wrings from them
a tax tenfold greater than what was paid formerly.
In most of the large gardens of Italy the principal alleys are laid
down with grass, which is kept mown. Just at this season the cherries
began to ripen, and on our way from Pistoia to Lucca we met divers
villagers, who offered baskets of strawberries for sale. We set out on
Ascension Day after dinner, and for a time kept to the plain; then the
road became somewhat mountainous, but we soon emerged upon another fine
wide stretch of level country. All about the corn-fields are rows of
trees, each tree being attached to its neighbour by vines, wherefore
these fields have all the appearance of gardens. The mountains on each
side of this road are thickly wooded, chiefly with olives, chestnuts,
and mulberries for silkworms. At the end of twenty miles we came upon
Lucca, situated in the plain aforesaid, a town about one-third smaller
than Bordeaux, and free, except that by reason of its weakness it
has put itself under the protection of the Emperor and the house of
Austria.[39] It is well walled and strengthened with bastions, but the
ditches are shallow, and only a scant stream of water flows through
the same. Moreover, at the bottom they are full of green plants with
wide flat leaves. All round the walls, on the level ground within, are
planted two or three rows of trees which afford shade, and would serve,
according to what I heard, for fascines in case of need. Viewed from
without the place looks like a wood, for the houses are concealed by
the trees aforesaid. A guard of three hundred foreign[40] soldiers is
always kept.
The town is well peopled, principally by silk workers;[41] the streets
are narrow but handsome, with fine lofty mansions on all sides. They
were then constructing a small canal whereby to bring into the city
the water of the Serchio, and building a public palace, at a cost of a
hundred and thirty thousand crowns, which is almost completed. Besides
the townsfolk they claim a population of a hundred and twenty thousand
subjects, several small villages, but no other town lying within their
jurisdiction. The gentle-folk and warriors of the place are all of the
merchant class, the Buonvisi being the most wealthy, and strangers
are allowed to enter only by one gate, where there is always a strong
guard. I never saw a town in a more pleasant site, surrounded as it is
by a most beautiful plain two leagues in extent, and beyond this the
lovely mountains and hills, which for the most part are cultivated to
the tops. The wines are only passable, and living costs about twenty
soldi per diem, the inns being, after the manner of the country,
indifferent. Many gentlemen of the city paid me courteous attentions,
sending me wine and fruit, and even offering to accommodate me with
money.
I tarried in Lucca the Friday and Saturday and left it on Sunday after
dinner, of which I did not partake, as I was fasting. The hills nearest
to the town are thickly set with pleasant houses. Our way for the most
part lay along a low-lying road, fairly level, and running between the
mountains, which are well wooded and peopled throughout, the river
Serchio flowing beside us. We passed several villages and two strong
towns, Reci and Borgo, and we crossed likewise the river aforesaid,
which was on our right hand, by a bridge of unwonted height, which
spans almost the entire width of the stream with a single arch. We saw
several other bridges of this kind on our way, and arrived at Bagni
della Villa,[42] sixteen miles distant, two hours after noon.
X
THE BATHS OF LUCCA
All the country round this place is hilly. In front of the bath and
along the river the ground is level for some three or four hundred
feet, and above this the bath-house is built upon the side of a hill
of moderate height, at somewhat the same elevation as the spring at
Banieres, where the patients drink the water close to the town. The
bath itself stands on a level site and includes thirty or forty houses,
excellently appointed for the purpose, with beautiful rooms, which are
all private and entirely at the disposition of the hirer, and with an
inner cabinet. Each apartment has two doors, one for communication with
other chambers, and the other for separate use. I inspected almost
every house before I made my bargain, and fixed ultimately on the one
which commanded the fairest view, that is, with regard to the chamber I
selected. From this I could look over the whole of the little valley,
the course of the Lima,[43] and the mountains, which enclose the valley
aforesaid, all beautifully cultivated and green to the summit, thick
set with chestnuts and olives, and in some places with vines, which
they plant all round the mountains, letting the circles rise one above
the other in terraces. The outside edge of each terrace is varied
somewhat and is planted with vines, while the lower portion of the
same is under corn. In my chamber I could hear all night long the soft
ripple of the river below.
Near to the houses a space is set apart for promenade, open on one
side, and built terrace fashion, with a trellis constructed at the
public cost. From here may be discerned, lying two hundred feet below
on the bank of the stream, a pretty little village, where also
baths may be had when the crowd of visitors is great. Most of the
houses therein are new, a fine road leads to it, and it possesses
a handsome public place. Nearly all the inhabitants congregate in
this village during the winter, and keep shop there, notably the
apothecaries, to which calling they almost all belong. My host was a
Captain Paulini, who was also an apothecary, and he agreed to let me
have a sitting-room, three bed-chambers, a kitchen, and a penthouse
for the servants; and in addition to provide eight beds, two of them
with hangings, salt, clean napkins every day, and a clean tablecloth
every third day, all cooking utensils and candlesticks, for eleven
crowns--which sum is a few soldi more than ten demipistoles--for
fifteen days. All earthen pots, dishes, and plates, as well as glasses
and knives, we had to buy. We were able to get as much meat as we
wanted, but were usually obliged to content ourselves with veal or
goats flesh. At all the lodging-houses they offer to provide you with
what you may require; and I imagine that by this method it would cost
about twenty soldi a head per diem. Any one wishing to adopt this
system would find in every house some man or woman capable of acting as
cook. The wine is mostly bad, but visitors who may be so minded may get
other wine brought from Pescia or Lucca.
I was the first to arrive at the baths except two gentlemen of Bologna,
who came with no large following; so I had free choice of quarters;
and, from what these gentlemen said, I judged I made a much better
bargain than would have been possible in the full season when the crowd
was wont to be great. Here the season does not begin till June and
ends in September.[44] In October every one goes away. People often
meet for conversation as the sole amusement. This indeed was the case
in the early part of the season, according to our experience. It is a
most unusual thing for visitors who have already passed a month at the
baths to return thereto, or to visit them at all in October. One of the
lodging-houses, called the “Palace,” is vastly more luxurious than the
others; it is certainly very fine, and belongs to the Signori Buonvisi.
There is a beautiful fountain playing in the hall and divers other
conveniences. They offered to give me in it an apartment of four rooms
or the whole house if I wanted it. The price for the four furnished
rooms for fifteen days was twenty crowns of the country, but I was not
inclined to give more than a crown per diem considering the season of
the year. My landlord is not bound by his bargain beyond the month of
May, and if I stay longer I must make a fresh one.
The water here is used for drinking and for bathing also. There is a
covered bath, which is vaulted, somewhat dark, and half the width of my
hall at Montaigne. They use a certain appliance called a _Doccia_,[45]
which is composed of a number of tubes, through which hot water is
turned on to various parts of the body and notably the head. These
streams, by striking continually on one particular part, stimulate
warmth in it, and then the water runs away by a wooden trough like that
used by washerwomen. There is another bath, vaulted and just as dark,
used by women, all the water being brought from the fountain where the
patients drink, which is somewhat awkwardly situated in a corner, as to
reach it, it is necessary to descend several steps.
On Monday, May the 8th, in the morning, I took with great reluctance
some cassia which my host gave me. He was assuredly lacking in
intelligence, compared with my apothecary at Rome, for I could not
finish my dinner three hours later, and the drug brought on a fit of
vomiting. I suffered also from great pain in the stomach and from
flatulence for well-nigh four-and-twenty hours, and made a vow to take
no more of this stuff. I would rather suffer from colic than have my
stomach thus upset, my taste ruined, and my general health deranged by
cassia. When I arrived here I was in excellent condition; so much so
that on the Sunday after supper (the only meal I took) I set out with
light heart to visit the bath of Corsena, a good half mile distant,
and situated on the other side of this same mountain, wherefore I was
forced first to go uphill and then to descend to the level of these
baths, or thereabout. This place is famed for the use of the bath
and of the _doccia_. At our bath the only course of treatment which
has received the approbation of the faculty or of custom is that of
drinking the water; they say, moreover, that the fame of Corsena goes
back to a much earlier date. However, no trace of this antiquity,
which we may suppose goes back to the times of the Romans, is visible
at either bath. At Corsena there are three or four large baths, with
arched roofs, unseemly and dark, save for one aperture in the middle of
the vaulting, which serves as a ventilator. Two or three hundred paces
away, and on somewhat higher ground, is another hot spring called after
Saint John, where they have built a house with three covered baths.
There is no lodging to be had near, but you may contrive to spread a
mattress whereon to rest awhile. At Corsena the waters are not drunk
at all, but in other respects there is considerable variety in the
treatment. Some take the cold baths, others the hot; some undergo the
cure for this malady, others for that; and a thousand wonderful stories
are told; in short, the legend is that at Corsena relief may be found
for every illness under the sun. There is one fine establishment with
many chambers, and a score of others with little to recommend them.
The advantages of this bath cannot be compared with those of the other,
nor is the prospect so fine though the same river flows close by, and
the view down the valley is more extensive. The charges are vastly
higher, and many of the patients who drink at Bagno della Villa go
there for the bathing. For the moment Corsena is all the fashion.
On Tuesday, May 9, 1581, I went early in the morning before sunrise to
drink at the hot spring itself, and took seven glasses one after the
other, the water weighing about three pounds and a half, as they reckon
it here. The water is lukewarm, like that at Aigues Caudes or Barbotan,
with less taste than any water I have ever drunk. All I could remark
was its warmth and a slight sweetness, and I found it very tardy in
taking effect; but some of the visitors told me I had taken too little,
seeing that the physicians often prescribe a whole _fiasco_, sixteen or
seventeen of our glasses or eight pounds’ weight. My opinion is that
the water, finding my stomach empty on account of my recent purge,
assimilated itself to nutriment. The same day I received a visit from
a Bolognese gentleman, a colonel commanding two hundred foot in the
pay of the State, stationed four miles distant. He made divers offers
to serve me, and stayed with me about two hours, having directed my
landlord and all others in the place to use all their efforts to make
me comfortable. This government makes a practice of employing strangers
as officers, and puts a colonel in command. One will have a larger,
another a smaller troop under his charge. The colonels are paid, but
the captains, who are people of the country, only get pay during war,
when they take command of their own companies as occasion may demand.
This colonel had for pay sixteen crowns a month, and had no other duty
than to be always in readiness.
People live more by rule at these baths than at our own, and abstain
rigorously, especially from drinks. At no other bath, except at
Banieres, have I ever been so well lodged, and Banieres equals it in
beauty of situation, but is the only bathing-place that does.
I am of opinion that this water is very mild and has little strength,
wherefore it is safe and free from danger for those unaccustomed to
such treatment, or for the delicate. It is taken for the strengthening
of the liver and for the removal of eruptions on the face; a fact of
which I made careful note as a service I would fain render to a most
estimable French lady. The water of Saint John’s spring is largely used
in making cosmetics, as it is impregnated with oil. I remarked that
much of it was sent away in casks, and still more of the water which
I was drinking. It is carried on mules’ and asses’ backs to be drunk
in Reggio, Modena, and Lombardy. Some take it in bed, the physicians
giving special directions to keep the stomach and the feet warm, and
to avoid all fatigue. People of the neighbourhood have it conveyed to
their houses three or four miles distant. As a proof that this water
is not strongly aperient it may be noted that the apothecaries here
keep a certain water brought from a spring near Pistoia, sharp on
the palate and very hot when drawn from the well, which they give to
patients before taking the native water, alleging that quicker and more
efficient result is thereby induced.
I heard the following remarkable story when I was at these baths. A
man of the place, a soldier named Giuseppe, who is still alive and
engaged on one of the penal galleys of Genoa, was captured by the Turks
in a sea-fight. To gain his liberty he became a Turk himself, a step
which has been taken by divers of the people of these mountains who
are still living, was circumcised, and married a wife. Being engaged
in a predatory raid on this coast he advanced so far one day that
his retreat was cut off, and, together with several other Turks, was
captured by the people, who had risen in defence. He at once determined
to declare that he had come there in good faith, and that he was a
Christian, wherefore a few days later he was set at liberty, and he
came to this place to the house in front of my lodgings, where he met
his mother. She asked him roughly who he was, and what he wanted, for
he was still wearing his sailor’s garb and was a strange object in such
a place. Then he made himself known to her, and, after having been as
it were lost ten or twelve years, kissed his mother, who shrieked aloud
and fell senseless and showed no sign of life until the next day, the
physicians being in despair of her. She came round at last, but she
died soon afterwards, every one being of the opinion that this shock
shortened her life. Giuseppe was made much of by the neighbours, went
to church to abjure his errors, received the sacrament from the bishop
of Lucca, and took part in divers other ceremonies, but all this was
hypocrisy. His heart was still with the Turks, and, in order to rejoin
them, he left this place for Venice, whence he gained some Turkish
port and once more took to the seas. He was again captured by the
Genoese, and, because he was a man of unusual strength and well versed
in seafaring, they have kept him ever since in their service, securely
fettered on one of their galleys.
In this country they keep registered a large number of soldiers taken
from the inhabitants for the service of the State. The colonels of
this force have no other duties than to drill the men under them
frequently, to teach them the use of firearms, and how to skirmish,
and other similar exercises. The rank and file are all of this country
and receive no pay, but they are allowed to wear armour and to carry
arquebuses and whatsoever arms they like: moreover, they are exempt
from arrest for debt, and in the time of war are paid. For other duties
there are captains, ensigns, and sergeants: only the colonels are paid
permanently, and these must needs be men of some other State. Colonel
del Borgo, who had visited me the day before, sent to me from his
station some four miles distant sixteen lemons and sixteen artichokes.
Again I will remark that I found here very pleasant and convenient
lodging, and was fully as comfortable as in Rome, what though my
chamber had neither chimney nor glass windows nor even linen shutters,
a fact which shows how much less stormy this climate must be than our
own. In France, indeed, it would be deemed an intolerable nuisance
to find nothing wherewith to close the window openings but wooden
shutters. With this one exception my bed-chamber was well found, though
their beds are wretched little trestles, upon which they place pieces
of wood, fashioned according to the length and breadth of the bed, a
palliasse being laid on these, and a mattress over all. Then you may
sleep well enough if only you have hangings. To keep the trestles and
woodwork out of sight you may adopt three courses: you may use narrow
pieces of stuff, the same fabric as the hangings--this I did in Rome;
you may have your hangings made long enough to cover the whole, and
this is the best plan; or you may have a coverlet of light stuff,
such as white fustian, fastened at the corners with buttons, and made
long enough to reach the floor, the bed being furnished with another
coverlet underneath for warmth. At least I learnt to adopt this fashion
in a general way for the people in my service, having nought to provide
but the truckle-beds. They are comfortable to lie in, and you are safe
from bugs.
On this same day I dined and then took a bath, thus running contrary
to all the rules of the place, which maintain that the one function
stands in the way of the other, and that they should never happen close
together, a course of drinking and a course of bathing being the usual
practice. For eight days patients drink the water, then take thirty
baths, drinking at one bath and bathing in the other. To-day I found
the bath very soothing and pleasant. I remained in it half-an-hour,
and felt no effect save a slight perspiration about supper-time. I
went to bed after my bath, and afterwards supped off a sweetened lemon
salad without drink of any kind. If I may give an opinion concerning
these waters I would say they can do little harm or good; that they
are ineffectual and feeble, and the fear is that they may inflame the
kidneys rather than purge them. On the Thursday morning I took five
pounds’ weight, being somewhat apprehensive that the effect might not
be favourable, and indeed so it turned out. While I was writing that
same morning to M. Ossat, I fell thinking of M. de la Boetie,[46] and
I remained in this mood so long that I sank into the saddest humour.
The bed of the stream from which the drinking water comes is red and
coated with rust, wherefore, seeing that it was likewise very insipid,
I concluded that it contained much iron and would be binding in its
effect; indeed little came of what I took on this Thursday. Medicine,
after all, is a poor affair. I said casually a little time ago that I
repented having taken so strong a purge inasmuch as this water, finding
vacancy within, acted as nutriment.