On his way to San Marino Henty found himself at Rimini. This place is
the Ariminium of the Romans. It was enlarged and beautified by Julius
and Augustus Caesar. Here, too, in a.d. 359 the Aryan doctrine was
denounced. As the centuries rolled by, the town fell into the hands of
the Lombards, and was given by the Emperor Otho to Malatesta, whose
family ceded it to the Venetians, from whom it was afterwards wrested by
the Popes, and it remained part of the Papal dominions till 1860.
It has its antiquities, the principal one being an arch erected in
honour of Augustus, and bearing still in perfect preservation the old
Roman carvings, representing on one side Jupiter and Minerva, on the
other, Neptune and Venus.
Another antiquity that took Henty's attention as being well worthy of
notice, from the way in which it brought back to his memory Westminster
School and his studies of the classics, was a short pillar in the
market-place with an inscription stating that Caesar stood upon it to
harangue his soldiers before passing the Rubicon. Caesar, history
informs us, was a short stout man, and Henty's old studies led him to
believe that he could not have looked well upon that short column, upon
which he would probably have been lifted by the officers of his staff;
and somehow or other--perhaps the weather was not very genial--the
column did not impress him with any particular feeling of veneration.
His ideas ought to have been classic and stern; but it is strange, as he
says, what inopportune ideas strike one. He approached the stone with a
thorough belief in it, prepared to picture Caesar aloft, and the
heavy-armed legionaries of the Roman cohorts standing armed, leaning
upon their spears, with the eagles they had carried triumphantly through
so many campaigns erect in their midst. But as he came fully into sight
of the stone, the thought of the difficulty of getting upon it and of
Caesar's ungraceful figure brought to his mind the remembrance of H.K.
Browne's etching representing the immortal Pickwick standing upon a
chair, with one hand under his coat-tails and the other outstretched, as
he harangued the members of his club. And all belief in the legend of
the stone faded away at once. In fact, Henty was not an imaginative
man. Neither was he a great humourist; but when he was in humorous vein
his humour was dry and good.
By the way, legend says that it was at Rimini that Saint Anthony
preached to the fishes when the people refused to hear him, and that San
Marino, who was a native of Dalmatia, across the Adriatic Sea, came over
and settled here. He gave his name afterwards to the little republic
and to the mountain which Henty's driver pointed out to him--rising far
above all the hills in its neighbourhood, nearly fifteen miles away--at
the beginning of a very charming drive in an open carriage drawn by one
of those novelties that are not often let for hire--a very fair horse.
This curious little state is in its own way perfectly unique, and its
existence is the more singular from its being situated in Italy, though
for centuries in the Middle Ages that country was the scene of an
uninterrupted succession of wars. The hand of every country was against
its neighbours. Towns changed owners every few years; states were
swallowed up, conquered, reconquered, but San Marino has remained.
The law of strength was the only law recognised--that law which says he
shall take who has the power, and he shall keep who can; for the weakest
always went to the wall. It is then most singular that this little
territory of about eight thousand inhabitants should have remained
intact for more than fifteen centuries, and that now, while all its
powerful neighbours have become merged into one great state, this tiny
republic should be the sole portion of Italian soil possessing a
separate autonomy.
History tells us that in the old Roman days, soon after the persecution
of the Christians by the Emperor Diocletian commenced, San Marino,
finding that there was no rest for his people in Rimini, led his little
flock out from that city and established a Christian colony at the
summit of the highest and most rugged mountain in that part of the
country, then probably a place surrounded by untrodden forests; and the
little state thus founded has remained separate ever since.
The road to San Marino led across an undulating and very richly
cultivated country, where the peasants were engaged gathering in the
grape harvest, which that year, from the extreme dryness of the early
part of the season, was the worst the people had ever known. They were
also occupied picking the maize, which is so important an item of the
Italian farmer's crop.
Indian corn is a little better known now in connection with its
beautiful growth than when Henty paid his visit, but his description of
what was to him almost a novelty is still pleasant reading. He tells us
how the plants are thinned out as soon as they appear above the ground,
and the blades are left to grow on about a foot apart in a climate where
they spring up to the height of about six feet. The stalks, he says,
"for the first two feet above the ground are about the diameter of a
man's thumb, but towards the top they expand to a considerable extent."
He had seen maize growing in its early stage during his previous visits
to Italy, but never before having passed the hot season there, this was
the first time he had witnessed the harvest, and it was a matter of
surprise to him that such thin stalks could support the weight of a head
of maize. But now to him the mystery was explained. At about two feet
from the ground, at the time the plant flowers, the stem increases in
size, presently opens, and a thick shoot makes its appearance,
apparently composed of a compressed bunch of leaves. This becomes
larger and larger, the leaves expand, open more and more, and spread out
like broad wavy blades of grass. The head or cob of maize swells out
and forms at its summit a great silky pale golden tassel, while, as the
cob becomes larger and larger, much of the upper part of the stalk in
the process of the ripening dies and falls off. Then the lower leaves
drop away, the grand beauty of the field of maize passes, and from the
time the crop is ripe until the harvest the field seems to be composed
of stumps with bunches of dead leaves at the top. These leaves,
however, enclose the great solid, regularly formed or apparently
built-up head of maize, which is left drying as it stands in the torrid
sunshine, till it is cut off and carted to the farms. At this stage the
Indian corn is taken in hand by the women and children of the family,
and the separate grains are picked off and exposed on cloths to dry
perfectly in the sun.
Passing the cultivated fields and crossing the little stream which forms
its boundary, Henty learned that he was in the Republic of San Marino,
that the circumference of the state was thirty-five miles, and that the
mountain, or crag as it should rather be called, rose almost in its
centre. With the exception of the rock itself, every part was extremely
fertile and well cultivated, and of more value than land in the
surrounding country, on account of the absence of taxation and other
advantages peculiar to the republic, chief among which was the freedom
from military conscription. Every male in San Marino is, it is true, a
soldier, but soldiering involves no fighting or absence from home.
Although all are liable to be called upon to serve in case of necessity,
only those under a certain age are on ordinary occasions called out.
The strength of this regular army of the republic is eight hundred men.
Of these, seven hundred form the National Guard; the remaining hundred
are the body-guard of the president.
They have their uniform of blue, the National Guard having red facings,
the body-guard yellow, the band white. Then they have their national
flag of blue and white; and a police force administered by a chief and
five carbineers, whose uniform is dark blue with white cross-belts and
grey trousers, so that they look on the whole much like the carbineers
of the Italian service. These five are, of course, always on duty, and
are regular salaried police. The army only appears in uniform upon
Sundays and fete days, when the men are drilled; but the troops receive
no pay.
"We arrived," says Henty, "at the village of Serravalle. Here the
carriage stopped, and I had to take my seat in a little pair-wheeled
trap drawn by a good-sized pony. These berruchinos, as they are called,
are by no means comfortable, for instead of being boarded, the floor is
composed of a loose network of cords, which affords little rest for the
feet. They have no dash- or splash-board, and you are consequently in
unpleasant proximity to the horse's heels, if it should take it into its
head to kick. They have, besides, no rail or other rest for the back."
It was an intensely hot day, and at the village from which he made his
fresh start he was glad to accept the loan of an immense blue umbrella.
And now began an adventure.
They had ascended a steep hill, so steep that the driver got down and
walked, and he had not retaken his seat when, without the slightest
previous notice of its intention, and presumably induced thereto by the
bite of a fly in some more than ordinarily tender part, the wretched
little pony started off at full gallop.
At this time Henty was sitting quietly under the umbrella, tranquilly
smoking and chatting to the driver, when there was a sudden jerk. His
feet having no hold and his back no support, the former flew up into the
air and his head went back. Instinctively he made a desperate grasp at
the side rail with his unoccupied hand, but it gave way, and in an
instant he was on his back in the middle of the road with the blue
umbrella perfectly shut up beneath him. Fortunately the trap was not
very high, and his bones were at that period of his life very well
protected, so in a moment he was on his feet again, much more astonished
than hurt. Bearing the relics of the blue umbrella he pursued the trap,
which in spite of the efforts of the driver was going on at full speed,
dragging him after it, and it was three or four hundred yards from the
place where the pony started before the man was able to bring it to a
standstill.
A little scene ensued, for when he came up Henty found the driver
looking pale as death, and so much scared that it was with the greatest
difficulty he could be persuaded that his fare was not seriously hurt.
It was rather a remarkable escape; but Henty states that he was so
little shaken that he did not even suffer with a headache from the
effects. Of course, however, the principal damage was to the blue
umbrella, and on his return to Serravalle he had a very lengthy amount
of talk and argument with the old lady, its owner, as to the amount of
compensation to be paid, for it was irretrievably ruined.
The rest of Henty's journey to the Burgo of San Marino, a village
containing about seven hundred inhabitants, was uneventful. It is
planted at the foot of a precipice, at the top of which the old town,
which is populated to about the same extent, is perched. It is a
remarkable mountain, rising as it does almost perpendicularly, and
therefore being a very suitable spot for the erection of a fortress in
the old dangerous times, for all around there lie nothing but softly
swelling hills, no other so suitable a defensive place occurring until
far back in the Apennines, another twenty-five miles inland.
The rock is about half a mile long, and to the east the face is
absolutely perpendicular, while to the west it has a gradual but still
rapid fall, the land being cultivated up to the very walls of the town
upon its summit.
There is no flat ground upon the top. It is a mere narrow ridge, the
descent beginning from the very edge of the perpendicular east face.
When looking up the rock from the road all that is seen of the town are
three towers perched upon the three highest points, and the church.
None of the houses is visible owing to their position upon the west
slope.
Enquiries brought an introduction to one of the ancients of the place,
who acted as cicerone to strangers visiting San Marino, and during a
walk he was found to be charged with a pretty full description of the
politics and history of the little state.
Everything was in a delightful state of innocency, honour more than
money seeming to be generally the object sought. There were two
captains-regent instead of presidents, who were allowed seventy-five
francs each during their term of office of six months. The home and
foreign ministers were each paid two hundred and fifty francs for office
expenses, postage, etc. The commander-in-chief of the army got honour
alone and not a sou besides, and apparently had to pay for his own
uniform. Then came the highest paid officials of the republic. These
were three, two physicians and one surgeon, who received thirteen
hundred and fifty francs, or fifty-four pounds a year each, and for this
had to be at the call of all the citizens of the state, to whom they
rendered their services gratis. The only patients who had to put their
hands in their pockets were those who lived out of town, and they had
also to provide conveyance.
There was a judge who went on circuit, and he was chosen for a period of
three years, but might be re-elected twice. To meet these stupendous
demands, which meant an expenditure of about three thousand pounds a
year, the government raised a revenue by the profits upon the sale of
tobacco and salt, these being, as in other parts of Italy, state
monopolies.
In addition to this a very small tax was levied on the landed
proprietors, and the Italian government paid a sum of eighteen thousand
francs a year, which was used for making roads, assisting the poor,
giving aid in cases of loss by fire or misfortune, and repairing the
public buildings. This sum was paid by the Italian government for
customs dues.
Following his guide, Henty found the city to be a long narrow village on
and below the crest of the cliff. It was enclosed by a wall some
twenty-five feet high, surmounted by numerous round bastions. It showed
every proof of having been very strong in former times, and even then,
although the walls were very old and crumbling, it was evident that a
thousand men could defend it for some time against a strong force, the
rock falling so steeply away below it that it would be difficult to
bring cannon to bear on it. Within the walls the houses were all
crowded together; the streets, although they all zigzagged upwards, were
so steep that no horse could draw a vehicle up them.
Among the antiquities of the place were the old Assembly Hall and the
building which contained the rooms of the captain regent, displaying the
arms of the republic--three towers with plumes on the tops and the motto
"Libertas." These towers represented the three which stood upon the
highest points of the rocks. The view from the summit of the rock was
superb. A thousand feet below lay the Burgo. Beyond that for miles
upon miles spread a gently undulating country, dotted with innumerable
towns and villages, stretching away to the seashore. To the north lay a
perfectly flat marsh land through which the Po and Adige find their way
into the sea, this--the Adriatic--looking like a blue wall dotted with
white sails. The guide assured the visitor that just before sunrise the
mountains of Dalmatia, a hundred miles distant at least, were plainly
visible.
Away to the west the Apennines shut in the view. Upon one of the spurs
the castle of Saint Leon was visible, where the celebrated Cagliostro
was imprisoned and died.
Henty observed upon his descent to the gate of the tower six strong
posts, four being placed to make a parallelogram with cross pieces at
the top, to one of which was attached a windlass. The remaining two
posts were placed one in front and one behind, the whole suggesting the
possibility that they had been used in former times in the defence of
the tower. On being questioned, however, the guide explained that they
were used for a much more matter-of-fact purpose. When oxen are being
shoved they are not so calm and patient over the operation as a horse,
generally objecting very strongly to the performance. Hence they were
driven in between the posts, ropes were fastened to the cross-bar on one
side, these were attached to the windlass, and when this was turned, the
bullock was swung up into the air, and his feet fastened to the posts in
front and behind.
It proved to be a delightful visit, the visitor ending by dining at a
little auberge in the village at the foot of the hill, where to his
surprise he found that they had an excellent cook.